I spent at about an hour just sitting on the balcony and watching the town wake up. The mini-buses started arriving from about 7 and the flow was constant by around 8. Vendors were coming to market, school children in day-glo blue uniforms were coming to the Linden School of Excellence, trash men came hauling garbage behind a trailer, and nurses in white dresses boarded other mini-buses to go to their hospitals.
Linden is a world away from Georgetown; it was founded after colonialism and shows little in the way of British influence. The central business district lies on opposite sides of the Demerara River, and we had a good time exploring the market stalls and buying hot sauce. The market is covered and so its dark among the stalls and the passages narrow, but the people were very friendly. The town is town and it feels especially tiny in comparison with the Bauxite mining operations that surround it: enormous piles of grayish dirt, multiple levels of conveyor belts and waterfalls, and firestacks that spew smoke so thick it looks like whipped cream.
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