On winding two-lane roads, we pass the polo fields at Apes Hill and enter rolling seas of sugar cane that bow in the wind. Back in the 17th century, drinking chocolate became all the rage, and the British carpeted the island with the 12-foot-high grass. By 1650, "the brightest jewel in the crown" was the wealthiest and most powerful English-speaking colony in the Americas. As we climb higher, forests overtake the fields, and troops of African green monkeys scamper across the road. At the crest of a ridge, we turn into Hunte's Gardens. A footpath leads us past rusting molasses tanks and over a 1917 sugar-cart scale to the converted horse stables of Castle Grant Plantation. There, 67-year-old Anthony Hunte greets us with a wide smile. He's dressed in gray shorts and a plaid shirt, and his voice, like all Bajans', has a musical Gaelic inflection you'd swear was from Limerick, Ireland.
"I want you to meet my wife," he says as we sit on a breezy patio strung with orchids. Below us is the gully he's planted with hundreds of ornate trees, flowering bushes and whimsical sculptures. "I married her after she was 
dead, but I live here with her spirit." Softly, like dripping molasses, then rising in a bel canto crescendo, the crystal voice of diva Maria Callas wakes the sleeping garden. A wind hushes through, and mop-headed cabbage palms sway in unison. Belts of red and yellow heliconia twist like wind chimes. Between the opera and the dancing forest, I'm entranced.
"My whole family was in the sugar business," Anthony says, with eyes half-closed. "When I was old enough, I sold everything and moved up here. I've always loved plants." After rum punches and a tour of the gully (which he's recently opened to tourists), Anthony walks us back to the car. The air smells like a freshly mown lawn. "That's the most magical thing about this island," Anthony sighs. "In Barbados, it's summer for the rest of your life."
Barbados Essentials: Where to stay and what to do...
George echoes his words a half-hour later as we leave the cloud-dappled hills and skirt the sun-burnished windward coast. "Days have a way of slipping into years here," he says. "Ask a Bajan what time it is, and he might say, 'It's September.'" While George waxes poetic about time, I'm scrutinizing roadside cattle. "There," George says, pointing. "You told me it was black."
"Things change," he says, shrugging as we pass a white cow and bounce down a rutted two-track. We wave at a Rastafarian with a bunch of coconuts balanced on his head and cut through a sea grape thicket. Suddenly the 
coast opens before us in a bright, empty desert that drops into the blue Atlantic. The ruins of the rum shop are still there. We walk out past the dunes and face the sea. "The air you're breathing," George says, inhaling, "is straight from Africa." The next day, I meet Jenene Archer, a pretty young masseuse at Sandy Lane. It's the island's most expensive resort, and I've elected the sugar-cane scrub at the spa because it sounded authentically Bajan, albeit in the midst of five-star luxury. Like 90 percent of islanders, Jenene is a descendant of the original 400,000 African slaves shipped to Barbados between 1627 and 1807. Most were from Ghana. When I ask her if, along with their Asante and Ewe songs and dances, the Africans brought healing traditions like this massage, she giggles.
"The only thing Bajan about this treatment," she says, smoothing damp handfuls of raw muscovado on my back, "is the sugar and me." Jenene is chatty, which is great because I feel a bit silly being smothered in sugar. She asks if I experienced Crop Over, and when I tell her I went to Grand Kadooment she whistles. "That's the craziest time. Everybody is limin' away with their friends from sunrise to sunrise. And now," she chuckles, "they're all calling in sick to work." As Jenene turns me into a confection, I drift into a reverie of recollections culled from the last few days...
Online Editor's Note: To read the rest of Barbados: Pursuit of Happiness, check out the digital version on our Scribd page, or download the full December 2009 issue on Zinio.
Go back to the start of Pursuit of Happiness...
Related Content
The 92 miles of Barbados’ coastline is trimmed with 80 beaches, from tranquil to tempestuous. Here's a list of our 6 favorites.
Riding is as much a part of the region as rum and reggae, and the islands abound with excellent equestrian outfitters. Here's a list of five first-rate island stables.
From snorkeling to lounging on the sand, here are our five favorite beach activities—and the best places to do them.
The Caribbean isn't Bavaria, and though the region's many indigenous brews (this roundup is hardly comprehensive) may not necessarily rank as great beers by great-beer standards, ice-cold, each one surely is the best possible companion to the iconic island foods of its homeland.
We've picked the best Caribbean rums from around the islands. How many of our favorite rum brands have you tried? Explore our Top 10 rums gallery, then vote for your favorite rum in this year's Best of the Caribbean Readers' Choice Awards!
