About 30 minutes out from the hotel on my daily fitness stint, when I started to hear this almighty racket. It sounded a bit as I imagine the Notting Hill Carnival to sound. Louder and louder still grew the noise. And then a Barbadian Police 4 x 4 came into view, all lights flashing. Following was a lorry, loaded up with a steel band and dancing girls. For a minute I thought it was my new mate Freddie out on tour. Then there was another lorry, piled high with more Barbados folk, colourfully dressed, chanting and laughing joyously, all waving posters. Then there were about 30 highly decorated vehicles, horns blowing and posters on the roof. Posters everywhere. The whole thing was followed by a troupe of dancers on foot, with people joining in for a short period as the cavalcade passed by.
Standing on the second lorry was a tall West Indian man with a microphone, and a voice about two octaves lower than the soon-to-be-ennobled Dafydd Wigley. It could easily have been 'Ol' Whispering Death' himself. . "Peter Phillips 'All Da Way', he spoke/sang. "Da Barbados Labour Party". "Keep Owen In Da House". 'Keep Da House Tidy". ' Peter Phillips All Da Way". Over and over again. I was spellbound. All I do is put a titchy little loud speaker on the roof of my car to announce that I'm in the area. A rethink needed. I don't know whether this Owen Arthur is any use as a Prime Minister - but his supporters sure know how to have fun. I've never seen so much joy being had by a group connected with politics. I've no idea why, but I'd be tempted to vote for Peter Phillips if I lived here. I've said so often to my supporters, "Never underestimate the power of name recognition".