Crumbling buses, endless waits, and unexpected detours — for residents in northern Barbados, a simple journey can turn into an all-day test of patience and luck. As the country debates public transport, Barbados TODAY’s Lourianne Graham’s day spent chasing elusive buses and hitching rides with resourceful ZR drivers shows just how challenging life can be for those without a vehicle.
It was the perfect day for a spontaneous road trip — clear skies, sunny, and breezy.
The trip kicked off at a bus stop in Black Rock, with the experimental destination of Pie Corner/Date Tree Hill. The intention was to catch the 10.30am 1B bus, but it soon became clear that I was not going to be the exception today: the bus was late. So I waited.
ZRs and big yellow buses zoomed past, drivers honking in hope they’d entice us aboard. Speightstown buses and vans came and went in droves, but my elusive 1B was nowhere to be seen.
Later, one resident summed it up best: “They does send them but you can’t always say they gon come at such and such a time.”
Finally, at about 11:40 a.m., an older Marcopolo Transport Board bus creaked to a stop in front of us — and to my surprise, it was my 1B. I hopped on, fully prepared to stand the entire trip, but to my relief there were plenty of empty seats. From Black Rock to Speightstown, passengers hopped on and off, except for a steady crew of 11 of us clearly in for the long haul.
At the Speightstown bus terminal, just two more passengers joined us — and then the real adventure began. Aside from the twisty roads and gentle hills, it was a smooth ride.
After we passed the “Welcome to St Lucy” sign, I could not help but wonder how often the grass gets cut along these winding roads, barely wide enough for the bus, which kept up a chorus of honks to warn oncoming vehicles.
We hit our first bit of turbulence at Chance Hall Road — bumpy enough to make me grateful for the bus’s steady horn. Even in residential areas, the driver kept on honking — probably for good reason.
Every twist and turn had the bus creaking and groaning like an old machine nearing the end of its life. Near the end of the line, the trip slowed further — the front door refused to shut properly, so at every stop the driver had to hop out and fix it by hand.
I finally arrived at Date Tree Hill around 1:15 p.m. and decided to chat with a few residents about life with these buses.
One shopkeeper told me the bus “comes when it comes but at no set time.” Another resident explained the ZRs were the real heroes — the only dependable rides, since the buses mostly stick to their 5 a.m., 6 a.m. and 8 a.m. runs. After that, you’re on your own until maybe 11 a.m.
Two hours later, still waiting for a bus to Bridgetown, I gave up and took a ZR headed to Speightstown. Near Ignatius Byer Primary School, the driver — out of the kindness of his heart — turned the bus around to drop two stranded folks back up the hill. The passenger behind me let out a long stupse, but with no other choice, we all just settled in for the extra detour.
But the adventure did not stop there. The van acted up, too. The driver pulled over and unloaded all of us by the St Lucy Parish Church, leaving two men, a woman with two suitcases, and me to wait again for any ride going south.
The woman said she was travelling out of the island in the morning, and with the unreliable bus system, she could not risk waiting until the next day to make her way out of the north and find accommodation for the night closer to the airport.
Eventually, another ZR rolled up — packed tight like sardines — but at that point we were just grateful to move. We tumbled out at the Speightstown terminal, and I crossed my fingers for a bus to Bridgetown. By now it was 4pm.
At 4:23 p.m., the only electric bus I had seen all day finally glided in, with plenty of space for the weary — destination: Bridgetown. My day wrapped up at 5.17 pm when the bus dropped us off in The City — a stark reminder of what it is like for people in the north who do not own a car and are forced to depend on public transport.
St Lucy is stunning and the ride was worth it — but as for moving to the north as a daily bus commuter? I think I’ll pass. (LG)
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