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Provided by the compucert It was recommended to us by several people that we should check out Oistin. We were ambiguously told that there's lots of food, people, tourists, and things to do at Oistin. We weren't sure what an Oistin was exactly, or even where it was.
After getting some info we found out that we could take a taxi-cab for over US$20 or the local route-taxis for US$.75. We took the route-taxi.
I mentioned the route-taxi or the buses in another post. They take a mini-van, jam it with seat and call it a route-taxi or a bus. They squeeze as many people as they can into those things. I estimate that about 10 can actually sit in there comfortably, but they regularly squeezed in 14 or more. People are squeezed in like sardines.
So we lucked out. A driver noticed a bunch of people waiting for a lift to Oistin in front of our hotel, Stacey and I included and he swung his empty van around to score the fares. Before long the van was full. A couple dudes got on and immediately lit up some hash and stunk up the place before being told to put it out.
We arrive at Oistin. Oistin appears to be a small town or village or something. There's rows of little makeshift shops along the shore. The vast majority are all food oriented. We chose one and placed out order. They seated us near the beach and we chilled waiting for the food. What a wait! It was likely close to an hour before the food arrived. The fish with rice and peas and salad was tasty and fresh.
After having our meal we wandered around the area. They had a DJ pumping out the tunes. Scores of tourists and locals were all over the place. We went scouting for some ice cream. We walk by one booth and a gent suggests we try the food they have to offer.
"Sorry, we just ate," I responded.
"Oh, then how about some hash?" he asked.
"Sorry, that's not my thing," I answered.
"Charity?" he asked.
At this point I must've had a perplexed look on my face. I was trying to figure out what he meant. Since I said no to his other two offers, was he resorting to panhandling for some scratch?
"Charity!" he repeated then made a quick snorting sound with his nose.
It sank in quick that time, "Oh no, sorry, not my thing," I responded, realizing he's trying to sell me cocaine.
"How about the lady?" he continued.
"Nah, it's definitely not her thing. Sorry. Thanks. Have a good night!" I said while putting my arm around my wife and guided her away from this scene.
At that point I didn't want to be around Oistin any longer. The place was getting more and more full, and who knows what other criminal element will show up next. So we hopped the next route taxi out. Of course he drives one block and pulls over in a gas station. While at the station another guy steps into the minivan and sits in the row behind us. He was close to seven feet tall with his dreads stuffed into his hat and very thin. This was when our harrowing return back to the hotel started.
*click*
*click*
The driver finished fueling up. He and his assistant get in. I saw the assistant, whose job is to collect the fares, wince then put on a stern expression on his face. He started gesturing to the tall guy to pay up.
*click*
*click*
What was that sound? I started to become worried. The assistant was still glaring at the guy behind me. The tall guy paid up. More people piled into the route taxi.
*click*
*click*
I see a glint of silver in the corner of my eye and a huge wad of cash in that guy's hand. I decided that it'd be in my best interest to mind my own business and keep my eyes on the road ahead.
Two guys got on the bus and sat next to the tall guy. I heard some nervous chatter from them the rest of the way.
*click*
*click*
Our stop! Let us out. The minivan barely stopped before we hopped off. Immediately Stacey and I compared notes. Those clicking sounds and the flash from metal was a BIG KNIFE that this big guy was playing with the entire trip.
If that was our biggest, scariest adventure of the trip, then I suppose it wasn't a bad trip. ;)
After getting some info we found out that we could take a taxi-cab for over US$20 or the local route-taxis for US$.75. We took the route-taxi.
I mentioned the route-taxi or the buses in another post. They take a mini-van, jam it with seat and call it a route-taxi or a bus. They squeeze as many people as they can into those things. I estimate that about 10 can actually sit in there comfortably, but they regularly squeezed in 14 or more. People are squeezed in like sardines.
So we lucked out. A driver noticed a bunch of people waiting for a lift to Oistin in front of our hotel, Stacey and I included and he swung his empty van around to score the fares. Before long the van was full. A couple dudes got on and immediately lit up some hash and stunk up the place before being told to put it out.
We arrive at Oistin. Oistin appears to be a small town or village or something. There's rows of little makeshift shops along the shore. The vast majority are all food oriented. We chose one and placed out order. They seated us near the beach and we chilled waiting for the food. What a wait! It was likely close to an hour before the food arrived. The fish with rice and peas and salad was tasty and fresh.
After having our meal we wandered around the area. They had a DJ pumping out the tunes. Scores of tourists and locals were all over the place. We went scouting for some ice cream. We walk by one booth and a gent suggests we try the food they have to offer.
"Sorry, we just ate," I responded.
"Oh, then how about some hash?" he asked.
"Sorry, that's not my thing," I answered.
"Charity?" he asked.
At this point I must've had a perplexed look on my face. I was trying to figure out what he meant. Since I said no to his other two offers, was he resorting to panhandling for some scratch?
"Charity!" he repeated then made a quick snorting sound with his nose.
It sank in quick that time, "Oh no, sorry, not my thing," I responded, realizing he's trying to sell me cocaine.
"How about the lady?" he continued.
"Nah, it's definitely not her thing. Sorry. Thanks. Have a good night!" I said while putting my arm around my wife and guided her away from this scene.
At that point I didn't want to be around Oistin any longer. The place was getting more and more full, and who knows what other criminal element will show up next. So we hopped the next route taxi out. Of course he drives one block and pulls over in a gas station. While at the station another guy steps into the minivan and sits in the row behind us. He was close to seven feet tall with his dreads stuffed into his hat and very thin. This was when our harrowing return back to the hotel started.
*click*
*click*
The driver finished fueling up. He and his assistant get in. I saw the assistant, whose job is to collect the fares, wince then put on a stern expression on his face. He started gesturing to the tall guy to pay up.
*click*
*click*
What was that sound? I started to become worried. The assistant was still glaring at the guy behind me. The tall guy paid up. More people piled into the route taxi.
*click*
*click*
I see a glint of silver in the corner of my eye and a huge wad of cash in that guy's hand. I decided that it'd be in my best interest to mind my own business and keep my eyes on the road ahead.
Two guys got on the bus and sat next to the tall guy. I heard some nervous chatter from them the rest of the way.
*click*
*click*
Our stop! Let us out. The minivan barely stopped before we hopped off. Immediately Stacey and I compared notes. Those clicking sounds and the flash from metal was a BIG KNIFE that this big guy was playing with the entire trip.
If that was our biggest, scariest adventure of the trip, then I suppose it wasn't a bad trip. ;)
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