Why are all the vans honking so much?

That’s what I wondered, that first day in Grenada. With winding roads and roadside drainage ditches the depth of a  small canal, I had elected not to rent a car.  Buses into St. Georges from Grand Anse beach were plentiful, I read.

But where were they? The receptionist at my hotel told me to look for a bus with a 1 on it. As I walked to the roundabout, I saw plenty of trucks, cars and vans speeding by – but nothing that looked like a traditional bus.

Then a van slowed down, beeping furiously as a man inside leaned out the window. He waved his hand toward town. “Need ride?” Realizing that this was the bus, I nodded and hopped in.

Soca music assaulted my ears. I grabbed a seat between an older woman carrying a duffel bag full of fruit and a uniformed schoolgirl. As we rode, I noticed that the vans – which seem to have negotiated a contract with the same airbrush vendor – all had numbers on the front.

Or at least they did in Grenada. Similar van buses in smaller St. Vincent and Bequia had no markings and were recognizable only by their passengers, the inevitable ”gangsta” or “cash money” spraypainted on the side and the ubiquitous reggae music spilling from the windows (not to mention their breakneck style of driving).

What makes it all worthwhile is the cost. While taxis around Bequia cost 20 EC, you can catch the bus for just 1.50. And I enjoyed seeing the stops on the way into St. Georges, even if everyone laughed when I inadvertantly hit the off button just a block from the end of the line.