It’s OK to Travel with a Bathrobe #11: Friday Night Jump Out – St. Lucia

Friday Night Jump Out

There’s where you spend your Friday evening in St. Lucia. The main street on Gros Islet, close to the marina at Rodney Bay, is the place to be. Lots of stalls serving grilled chicken, the best I’ve tasted so far. The music blasts from the speakers set everywhere and everybody drinks and dances until late.

I don’t know how to explain it, it’s a bizarre mix of Saint Lucians and tourists, almost all from the boats, the blacks dancing veeeery well and the whites, well, giving it a go, some of them, most don’t really try to compete. And it’s also a bit dangerous to leave THE street, once out of it you don’t see many people, and, actually, better if you don’t because it’s kinda stressing having a group of guys whispering behind you and calling you to offer any kind of drug.

You hear stories about people being mugged and molested on the streets around the party or on the beach at the end. I usually don’t pay much attention to the people that like to alarm you and scare you or simply get some attention by telling frightening stories, but, just in case, we took a taxi back to the marina.

So, girls, if you go, prepare yourselves for dances that last about 30 seconds and then stopping because the partner seems to have extra hands coming out from everywhere. I think I changed dancing couples 20 times before I actually fell into a guy that looked out of an asylum but didn’t try to check my complexion. It was nice to dance instead of fighting for a while.

But the best part of the night was still when one of the guys, a rasta from Rodney Bay, probably a fake one (they abound, the dreadlocked fake rastas), and I had a conversation such as this:

Fake Rasta – Do you like my dancing?
Me – Oh, sure, I love it, you all dance really good here…
FR – How much do you think for my …dancing… all night?
M – WHAT?
FR – It was a joke
M – Yeah, sure…..

So, end of the conversation. Can you believe it? Never before had I had a guy asking me to pay to spend the night with him. My friend Olga said not to be angry, he was planning on making me a special price, not the regular tourist tariff, because “we are friends and all”…Ah, ok, well, that helps…

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