Early one day as I pored over a map on the side of the road, a haunting, rhythmic sound wafted in through the closed windows of my car. My first thought was that of a horn from a distant ship. But the tone had an ancient, ethereal quality — it reminded me of a Tibetan monk signaling the start of meditative practice. The fact that the sound disappeared before I could place its origin only made it all the more haunting. Only later did I learn its everyday origin: a fishmonger blowing a conch shell as he made his rounds of the villages in his truck, announcing the day's catch for sale.
Mornings in Tobago often presented unexpected moments. While strolling along Buccoo Beach, I ran into a man tugging on frayed ropes, coaxing two of his protesting goats into the water for a swim. This startling sight turned out to be a decades-long island tradition. The farmer was giving his animals a workout, hoping their paddling would produce improvements in endurance and strength for the ever-popular Goat Races held around Easter and several other times each year.
Low-key Tobago stands in contrast to its massive, more boisterous neighbor that helps make up the Republic of Trinidad and Tobago. As you cruise down twisting roads that wind along the coast and through the lush interior, the differences between these two islands become evident. Tobago's barely 120-square-mile island holds just over a dozen traffic lights. Sheep regularly wander into the middle of roads, including the route to King's Bay Beach, a peaceful swimming spot. In Charlotteville, one of several sleepy villages, the only activity seems to center on Man O' War Bay, where fishermen are tending their boats, or cleaning and cutting up the day's catch. I felt myself drawn into this chill vibe, put my Type A, frenetic energy on a back burner, and sought out tranquil pursuits.
I looked beyond the usual sun-, sand- and surf-centered activities that are so abundant on Tobago, and found plenty to explore.
Bucolic biking
I booked an afternoon of cycling with Tobago Mountain Bike Tours. Its dreadlocked owner, Eamon Healy-Singh, greeted me near Stonehaven Bay, one of the loveliest stretches of golden sand on the island. Since I design jewelry, I eyed his pendant necklace. "It's an original stone ax tool," said Eamon. "From the native Carib Indians, the island's original inhabitants." Not your typical mountain biking guide accessory, that's for sure.
We pedaled along quiet, narrow lanes between pastel-painted houses where backyards bloomed with bougainvillea. Eamon rolled to a stop, bending down to pick up several of what locals call golden apples that were strewn on the ground. "It's for our snack," he declared, along with several papayas he soon purchased at a nearby fruit stand. The peace was broken by a cacophonous steel band practicing for the weekly Sunday School, a festival where dozens of street vendors sell food and crafts in Buccoo, and when the island's usual calm transforms to raucous.
Heading south, Eamon led me down a serene, forested dirt road, slicing through the expansive Latour Family Estate. Once a major coconut plantation that supplied oil, the grounds are littered with coconuts. Here, I got a botany lesson, as Eamon pointed out tamarind, soaring samaan trees from Africa, and white mangrove, one of four types found in Tobago, and one that prefers interior swamps.
Never far from the water, we stopped at a wetland where a fantastical wall of intertwined aerial roots (growing from red mangrove) lent an air of magic to a narrow pier. "This lagoon, Bon Accord, is healthy," said Eamon as he reflected on the density of this plant species that's key in the local ecology, including as a fish nursery. Numerous fish species were swimming about, including several small barracuda and a brilliant yellow butterflyfish.