Flying home.

Another one in the books: After a little walk around the OTHER side of Port-Louis, we stuff all of our things - backpacks, extra purchases, much too much rum, etc. - AND two tall Germans(who politely requested a lift to the rental car office) into our too-small Picanto and practically waddle our way to the airport. We stop to wash and vacuum the car, while the Germans buy wine for dinner at the compound. Surprisingly, we arrive in one piece and unfold ourselves out of the vehicle and off to our flight.




A nice lunch of what's left of our food is complimented by rum punch from the airport bar, because what else would you want to drink before leaving Guadeloupe, the island group known for its rum? And with that, we are on a plane, then up in the sky, detouring smoking Monserrat and flight north, to the cold white north that is Montreal. And with that, we are already thinking of ways to escape the winter, to explore more corners of the world. With that, we are already planning the next adventure - won't you come along?






Until next time.

Shopping and mud-slinging

So the great thing about travelling on a small island is that the distances are also small, and that you are never really that far away from anything. While in Saint-François, I had spotted a lot of nice things I wanted to purchase to bring back home, However, we still had our time on Marie-Galante to look forward to then, and I didn't want to over-fill the bags at that point, so I didn't get them. Now, finding ourselves back on Grande-Terre, with a car at our disposal, it became an increasingly more feasible option. Today, we decided to hop in the car and drive back out to Saint-François, to do some
shopping and revisit some old favorites.

The drive across the peninsula was a fast one, slowed only by a larger-than average volume of cars on the road. It being Saturday, everyone was going to the beach. We made a quick stop at the Damoiseau distillery, the biggest one on the island, but being the biggest, it was also the least quaint, and busiest. We got to tour through the factory, which was functioning at 100%, so truck after truck full of sugar cane was pulling up and unloading its cargo to be crushed and juiced. We watched as the squeezed cane fibers passed overhead to a field nearby, to be used as fuel, while the juice flowed through pipes and into large steel tanks, to be filtered and fermented. Steam escaped from pipes above, and sometimes from grates below, and the whole place smelled of sweet, sweet sugar cane. Already over-full on our rum allowance, we skipped the tastings, and continued on to Saint-François.

We cruised through the town towards the Pointe des Chateaux, because I had remembered seeing a place for cheap t-shirts, and the café on the beach had the best codfish accras I had tasted on this trip, so why not accomplish both? Sadly, the t-shirt vendor was not on site(must be his day off, or maybe siesta...), and the beach-side café was not open for lunch yet, so we failed both missions. Back to the car, we headed to Saint-François to grab a bite while walking along the waterfront, and finally sitting down at a shack we had not previously noticed(must've been their day off, or maybe siesta...). We ate the tastiest grilled parrot fish, caught fresh that morning, with a side of breadfruit, and an incredible flan coco for dessert. Believe me when I say that if anything will bring me back to Guadeloupe, that flan coco will!
Maybe not Mario, though.

Following the shopping adventure, we crossed the peninsula in search of mud baths. Noted as a local hangout, the Bain de Boue is a beach lined with sea plants growing in a thick layer of volcanic mud. To benefit from the whole experience, you jump in the water, dig down into the seaweed and grab a big handful, and rub yourself down, using the seaweed as a sort of natural loofa sponge. You can either rinse off the gunk while still in the water, or climb out onto the bank, lay in the sun and let the mud bake onto your skin. Either way, the mud is chock full of minerals while soften the skin, and are suppose to help with a number of ailments, including rheumatism. Honestly, the stuff stinks of sulfur, and so did we after our soak on the "healing" mud. And maybe it was just because we visited later in the day when the sun was dipping low in the sky, but the bay was filled with little bitey flies, and and so not only did we smell, but we were all bitten and itchy afterwards. So much for feeling relaxed!

We stopped at the Plage du Souffleur to watch the spectacular sunset again, taking advantage of the salty waters to rinse away the stink(which was only somewhat successful). I combed the shore for even more shells, while Mario laid in the sand. Behind us, travelers gathered their things, vendors gathered their wares, or tables and chairs, and families gathered in the park. Around us, the air filled with smoke, from the candles in the cemetery, from the barbecues warming up to prepare the evening's meal, and maybe even a little from the steaming volcano offshore, on the island on Monserrat, which was looking a little more active today.

After a long shower to get the remaining stink off(almost worked, too!), we headed out on the town, wandering down to the waterfront and a little place called the Poisson d'Or, where the tables are practically in the water, they're so close to the beach, and the views of Basse-Terre spectacular. Not only that, the food was stupendous! Dishes with creole inspiration, like the famous accras we've been eating all over the islands, these ones studded with tiny little fish instead. We also tried blood pudding, plump and tender and wonderfully spiced, and ouassous, the famous local crayfish, simmered in a garlicky herb broth, served with rice, and finger-licking good. The meal was, obviously, lubricated with a good amount of rum, and the staff was so excited to hear that I would give them a positive review and post pictures online. They were positively giggly!

Walking home, we passed one of the carnaval organizations practicing their drumming and dancing in the square facing the church, so we joined the handful of people sitting on benches and steps and planters, and watched the show. What a great way to spend our last night in paradise.

No more hiking. Please.

If Mario ever says that I didn't let him hike to his heart's content this vacation, please correct him. It almost did me in today. Ouf.

Today, we began our exploration of this end of Grand-Terre, very similar in layout and topography as Marie-Galante was, though with a significantly faster pace about it. There are windmills to hunt down, but we occupied our time differently today. Today, we explored the wicked cliffs and erosion of the west coast.

We began by navigating our way through the town of Anse-Bertrand, which was easy to find, but difficult to exit. Towns here have one-way streets through their centres, to facilitate traffic flow in the busiest areas, but you can easily get stuck in a loop if you're not careful. And oddly enough, though every road is very well-marked on this island, the roads leading out of Anse-Bertrand are not. We drive around the town centre 3 or 4 times before choosing a path, only to find out it was not the one we wanted in the first place. Regardless, we ended up making it out of town, and finding our way!

We made a first stop at Pointe de la Grande Vigie, northern-most point of the island, and a great viewing area of the neighboring islands of Monserrat and Antigua. A little hiking trail provides some great vistas, leading all the way to the furthest end of the point, but is very rocky, and NOT to be followed in flip-flops, like I did. In my defense, the visible first part of the trail, like most places here, is wide and paved and flat, so instills a false sense of security. I now know - always wear shoes.

As we continued along the coast, we passed a number of wonderful viewpoints, looking out at the dramatic coast and turquoise waters below. We continued on until we reached our destination, la Porte de l'Enfer, Hell's gate, which is actually a very nice secluded inlet. Super deep, it breaks the violent waves coming into shore, providing a very safe and calm swimming environment. And, of course, it is a very popular place. On top of that, there are some great hiking trails leaving from the Porte d'Enfer and running all along the coast, so of course, that's where we were heading!



Just a little ways down the trail, where most of the beach-goer walk to, is the Trou du Man Coco, an eroded cave in the seacliffs. It's not easy to see, you almost have to walk past it to get a good look inside, and the waves are always crashing up inside. Legend has it, this place was once a gathering spot for sorcerers. I think they would all get washed away now!


As everyone was turning back around and heading back to the beach with its calm waters, we headed onwards, up and over the sea cliffs, through the blazing sun and arid environment devoid of shade or shelter, making our way to the Point du Souffleur. Here, the waves crash up through perforated rocks, creating geysers that, when the waves are strong enough, can rise 10-15 metres in the air. It can be quite dramatic. However, with the combine heat and exertion, I had to stop short of the goal, and seek shelter under a tree, feeling way too overwhelmed
by the sun to continue. While I rested, Mario walked on to the geyser, capturing the show on film.

We high-tailed it back to the beach and jumped in the water to re-hydrate through osmosis. With the calm waves and salt water to soothe away the fatigue, we floated in the bay and explore small outcropping of rocks for tropical fish. Mario's camera is fantastic for underwater photography, you just have to be fast enough to capture the fish! We spent a good several hours relaxing before taking off again. At this point, I turned to Mario, very seriously, and told him I wanted no more hiking this vacation, having had my fill somewhere on the slopes of La Soufrière. He conceded.

With the sun beginning to set, we headed back to Pointe de la Grande Vigie to catch the show. Being the northern-most point, we should have had a fantastic unobstructed view. For some reason, there is a weird geographical phenomenom happening that the point is not actually pointing north, but east-ish, and so the sun sets behind the trees leading up to it...Basically, it was not good. We sped off to
find a better spot, wanting at least ONE magical sunset from this island.

We got held up in Anse-Bertrand again, but this time not by the roads, but by Carnaval Monkeys, out looking for donations for their festivities happening this weekend. They were good sports, and even posed for a picture or two, and we helped to fill their coffers. Finally, we headed back to Port-Louis, and the super-popular Plage du Souffleur. The sorbet coco vendors were packing up for the evening, and the beach-goers slowly folding up their towels and chairs. Behind them, the most spectacular, unobstructed view of the sun setting over Basse-Terre, reflecting on the water like a painting, offering a rainbow of colours and reflections. And, if it couldn't possibly get any better, a lone kayaker paddled his way through the scene, casting a gorgeous silhouette on every shot I took. Magic.

The evening played out to be rowdy and exciting - we were again called on for 'ti-punch with the family, this time joined by several other couples staying in the complex. I was even asked to help with the preparations, frying bananas and bread fruit into snacks in the kitchen! We enjoyed glasses of Planter's punch and Shrubb(a homemade orange-flavoured rum) and lively conversation with a couple from Germany, a couple from Switzerland, and the family at the residence, talking of weather and food and Guadeloupe and politics. It was a fun time.

Another busy travel day

Goodness me, how many thing can we possibly pack into one day? A lot, apparently, as I don't think we could've possibly done more running around on our way to Port-Louis! We packed up, cleaned up and closed up our heavenly little bungalow on the shore of the rivière des Sources. We said our heartfelt goodbyes to Helena and her other guest, Aniesse, both of whom we had had wonderful and passionate conversations with over dinner last night. We piled everything into the car and waved goodbye to the pig in the mud, the cows in the field, the goat forever stuck on his rock, and away we went.

We made a stop at the Distillery Bielle again this morning, not for more tasting, but to stock up on supplies, as we had not yet filled our duty-free quota. We calculated and recalculated our allowances, picked out our bottle of the best rum on the island, and even bought more of the tasty pastries made by the women on the side of the road - something to snack on later in the day. We took one last wander about the area, and away we went.

We filled up the gas on our funny little Fiat Panda, both more powerful and less elegant than the Picanto had been, and parked next to the Port. We walked a few laps about Grand-Bourg, picking up a baguette for sandwiches, purchasing a flowery cover-up from the market, and dropping another postcard in the mailbox, but basically just trying to waste time. We met up with the Magaloc renter to return the car. We pulled on our packs, slung bags over our shoulders, and made our way to the ferry crossing back to Guadeloupe. We handed over our tickets, climbed to the top deck, and watched as the quiet island of Marie-Galante disappeared behind the boat - and away we went.

Back on the main island, we picked up what looked like our Picanto from Basse-Terre - all looks but no power - and high-tailed it our of busy, bustling Pointe-à-Pitre. We hit the highway and missed our exit, heading further out of town that we had wanted, but with my navigating and Mario's skilled driving, we found another way and made it to the right road to get us to Port-Louis. We drove along roads through rolling hills and sugar cane and windmills, much like Marie-Galante, and not, at the same time. We cruised in and out of small towns, adjusting course to follow the highway, and finally making it to Port-Louis, and the Résidence Madelia, and its curious arrangement of rooms and cottages, and even more curious residents! Whatever had we gotten ourselves into, renting in a place like this! So while several incoherent, crazy ladies continued to fuss over our room, Mario and I dropped our bags and decided to go for our walk through the town, and away we went.

Again finding ourselves out and about when everyone else is in for the afternoon, we walked the length of Port-Louis, past city hall and the main church, past houses closed up against the midday heat, shops closed for siesta, and us, crazy people out in the sun. Further along, we found the boardwalk leading to la plage du Souffleur, a big attraction in this area. Turns out we are not the only crazy people out in the sun, as the beach is covered with tanning tourists. We stop for a sorbet coco to cool off a bit, marveling that this is where everyone is during siesta time. We reach the end of the board walk, turn back towards to town, and decide it should be time to return to the room - and away
we went.

Finally settled and showered and relaxing for the night, we are invited to dinner by the family running the curious apartment complex. We are delighted with freshly-made accras, chicken brochettes with banana, and crostini topped with ham and a tomato-peanut sauce, and copious amounts of ti-punch and planter's punch and straight rum. We were regaled with stories and tales and jokes, and had discussions of all manners, but the day had been long, and hot and sunny, and sleep was creeping in. In the end, we excused ourselves from the good company and good conversation, and away we went.

The search for perfection

Another early start to go and get some rum! It seems that that's what you do on Marie-Galante - you get up early, you have a good breakfast, then you go taste rum. So we did. This morning's stop was at the next best rum on Marie-Galante, at Père Labat Distillery. Here, we were able to tour the entire area where the sugar cane is crushed to collect its juice, then cooked down and fermented to obtain the rum foud in stores. And I mean we were walking through the factory, right over the conveyor where sugar cane was being fed into a grinder, then up to a second level where we could peer into the tanks as they filled with cane juice...We were in the heart of the action! Sadly, we've learned in the past that when an operation puts more focus on the tourist aspect of their enterprise, they put less focus on the quality of their product. This seemed to be the case at Père Labat - great tour, great facilities, more installations being created as we toured(seriously. they were pouring the cement as we walked around!), but the product was a little more harsh on the palate than we expected. Don't get me wrong - the rum is probably 10 times better than a shot of Bacardi, but compared to Bielle, that we tried yesterday, I found the 59 proof white rum more harsh, tasting more of alcohol, and certainly less smooth. I guess that's what happens when you start with the very best, nothing can compare.



We headed to the Habitation Roussel-Trianon, an old sugar refinery and plantation, that had been maintained for the purpose of teaching about slavery on the island. The site reminded me a lot of Sepino (in Italy) in the fact that is was preserved and informative, but free-range in respect to visiting the area. Some locations here were more fenced off, due to the fact that vegetation had since grown over the old tanks in the factory, obstructing them from sight, but remaining very dangerous as you could fall into one. It didn't deter Mario, though, as you can probably imagine. The group of school children visiting nearby did that, otherwise I might still be fishing him out from one of those tanks!

Next we headed into Grand-Bourg, to see what the town was like during daylight, when everyone was awake and out of their houses. BIG difference - at 10 in the morning, Grand-Bourg is a happening place! The market, though small, is in full swing, selling all manners of fruits and vegetables, clothing and straw hats, and bottle upon bottle of the sirop de batterie so popular here on Marie-Galante. It is a bi-product of the rum-making process, and has a taste similar to molasses. Though we didn't buy any, we did get the next best thing - a local specialty made with the syrup call gateau siwo, or syrup cake. Dense and tender, it is sold in large slabs that can easily be separated into pieces for snacking, and it is delicious. So much, in fact, that after we split a large piece with fruit juices, we went back to the same bakery and bought 2 more pieces to take away!

We visited another former refinery near Grand-Bourg, the Chateau Murat, which had not only the factory and windmill, but also the master's house in very good condition, housing a museum containing artifacts from life on Marie-Galante. From the second storey windows, you could see all the way back to Guadeloupe, les Saintes, and beyond to Dominica - no wonder they build such a prestigious house here! We also got the chance to see a great audio-visual art installation, les Échos de la Mémoire, on slavery by a local artist who had toured his show to Paris and all the big cities on the main island, and was now setting up at Murat. As luck would have it, he was on site, finalizing the details of the project, and introducing himself to the staff - we thought it was a conference, so we listened in, and learned all about his artistic process and inspiration for such a large body of work on a difficult topic.

Back on the road, we continued our goal of driving every road on the island, and hunting all the windmills, which took us along the coast to Capesterre, and some of the most idyllic beaches ever. Living postcard, really. Sadly, the surf was rough on this side of the island, and the water cooler today, so swimming was difficult at best. Having a picnic lunch in the sand, and taking some fantastic shots of the perfect beach, though, that was do-able. We watched the kite-surfers battle over the waves and crash into the surf, then shook the sand from our shoes and traveled all the way to the other side of the island, in Saint-Louis.

Here, we drove past some swamp lands where the excavation of the artifacts at Murat had been done, but we were headed for another beach, with calmer waters. We did find it, but the beach was less pretty. I guess you can't have it all. Mario laid in the sand and read, while I walked the length of the beach, all the way to Saint-Louis, looking for shells. If I bring back even half of what I've been collecting, I'll never have room for my clothes in my pack!

Satisfied with our coverage of the island, we made our way back to our little bungalow along the lazy river. Tonight, the sunset was particular pretty, though none have been spectacular. Maybe at the next place, our last stop on this trip, the sunsets will be out of this world, but nothing will compare to sitting on our big back balcony, watching the rain fall on the fields as the cows graze in the distance, or the menagerie of animals that visit in the cool evening air. It has been fun.

Chasing Windmills

The day started with a map and a car and a good amount of rum, and went on from there. Because in the islands, what better way to start your day that with a glass or two of arguably the best rum in the world? Away we went, map in hand, rum distillery our goal, and nothing but time to drive around this beautiful little island.

Marie-Galante reminds me of driving in the Montérégie area of Québec - short distances, rolling hills, great views, lots of agriculture. Here it is the same, except the plants are tropical, and the views dotted with defunct windmills, leftover from the time of slavery, when they were used to press the sugar cane. And the rolling hills are covered in sugar cane, just about ready for the harvest come February, when rum production begins for the year.

Of 3 distilleries on the island, Bielle is the most popular, but for good reason - their rums have been winning honors since the mid-nineties. Theirs is also one of the most potent, clocking in a whopping 59 proof, but you wouldn't know it -this stuff is smooth. We briefly toured around the grounds, checking out the machinery using in the processing and distilling of the cane syrup, but really, we're here for the rum, so we wandered over to the tasting counter just in time for a big rain shower to hit. Under the wide canopy, we were perfectly dry and perfectly happy to be sampling our rums. We went through the whole range, white and dark, aged and oaked, flavoured and fruity. We knew we liked the basic white, since we had tried it in our ti-punch last night, but we also really enjoyed a 40th anniversary aged dark rum, which was smooth and rich, and I had a soft spot for the Shrubb, an orange peel-flavoured rum liqueur, specialty of Guadeloupe and great for around the holidays. We filled up the trunk with bottles, ready for the drive to continue, but not before picking up some snacks from the vendors in the parking lot, some fish-filled pastries and more of the molasses-spice cacaboeuf cookies(because they look like cacaboeuf).

Continuing along, we detoured inland to visit one of the only restored windmills on the island, le Moulin de Bézard. Unfortunately, it seems that the upkeep of the facilities has been lacking since my guidebook was printed(in 2014), and thought the moulin is still in good shape, the rest of the area is in complete shambles! The shops, ticket book and washrooms are now all skeletons of their former selves, the walkway crumbling and broken. A fence had been erected to protect the site, but it, too, is now in pieces and falling over, basically allowing anyone free access to the grounds. But the windmill is still cool!

At this point, the drive because somewhat of a hunting trip, searching the countryside for errant windmills. Sadly, most are in such a state of disrepair and neglect that they are virtually invisible from the road, resembling more a cluster of trees if you don't know any better. We spotted a second large windmill, le Moulin d'Agapy, lacking its roof and blades but with stone structure still intact. Inside, trees and vines were taking over where gears and turn shafts once stood. Across the street, the ruins of the old farmhouse, shape still discernible, but trapped in the roots of an old tree. The wooden window frame had even remained intact under the force of nature taking hold, and as we explored, large hermit crabs crawled for cover.

We stopped our hunt briefly for a visit to Gueule Grande Gouffre, a large eroded hole in the coastline where the turquoise blue ocean could crash through. The wind was fierce, and so we didn't stay for very long. Onwards we continued, still searching for the elusive windmills. We caught sight of another large one on the map, and the end of a short hiking trail. We should've know when it took 3 tries just to find the hiking trail that this would not be an easy catch. Moulin Merlet offered fantastic views of the coastline and turquoise waters below, so up the trail we climbed, first through a vine-filled tropical forest, then onto flat stone roads through fields, cresting finally on a paved road in front of a rather large - and new - house with a magnificent view of the valley below. Though we continued along this road for a while, avoid poison trees and barking dogs, we found no windmill, nor sign that a windmill had ever even been there. We believe that the nice big house, seemingly new construction, may have possibly taken its place. Disheartened, we returned to the car.

To refresh our spirits and relax our minds, we stopped for lunch at a gorgeous beach, Anse du Vieux Fort, where our picnic table overlooked a small deserted island floating in the middle of the sea, and where a sand-coloured dog shared our sandwiches with us, feasting on chunks of baguette. We took a little walk in a wild and crazy mangrove forest, again avoiding poison trees - I even changed my shoes! Then we followed the road until we turned at the sign for Siblet, continued until the house with the red roof, and turned left into the driveway that led to our little yellow and green bungalow. Time for a ti-punch.

*************************************

 This evening, we headed back into Grand-Bourg, where we first landed, to stroll about town and find somewhere to eat. Turns out, everything closes after lunch, and doesn't actually reopen again until the next morning. Sure, some place are open tonight, since the last ferries are coming in, but you can really only get something to drink there, and no food is being served. We ask on gentleman where we can grab a bite, and he points out a pizza place, the only restaurant in town serving food, He also gestures to the marina parking lot, filled with a line of food trucks - or lolos, as he calls them - and says we can always try there. Between the smell of pizza baking and a scooter rental shack being moved, we found ourselves a table and snacked on agoulou sandwiches and crepes, and watched the world go by. We mused at how the scooter shack was going to fit on the back of the crane truck at all, and when it did, sideways, we wondered how it would get through the narrow city streets! We returned home to find our bungalow covered in a blanket of stars, and basked in the cool breezes of Marie-Galante.

Travel days and lazy river bungalows

Another day, another departure, this time leaving our gorgeous open-air bungalow over-looking the sea(even more so now that the banana palms have been cut down) and heading back to the big city. Saint-Francois has been a great base for visiting the islands and the coast, but I am ever-so-happy that I rented a place outside the town! It was private, super quiet - and it didn't feel like we were staying in the Guadeloupe equivalent of Florida. Fair warning to anyone wanting to travel here: Saint-Francois is the snow-bird home of Parisians looking to get away from the cold weather back home, with its gold course, marina, villa rentals, and boules club on the beach(think petanques).

We got our first experience of REAL traffic on the island, heading into Pointe-à-Pitre, and for no other reason than the sheer volume of cars on smaller-than-required roadways. No worries, it only delayed us dropping off the rental car about 10 minutes. We also lucked out that one of the vendors offered a luggage drop service(read: 2 euros and the bags are kept behind the counter), so we were able to explore the city for a few hours before boarding the boat for Marie-Galante.

Originally, my plans included a 3-day stay here instead of Port-Louis, but I am glad that changed somewhere in the planning stages. Pointe-à-Pitre is a city, with narrow laneways, taller buildings and lots of people and cars. It sounds like a city, and even smells like one(I'll let you figure that one out on your own). Whereas other European cities we have been to have a feel of beautiful decay, here I can only really call it dinginess. Most of the historic and pertinent sights are clustered around the main square, so easily reachable in one day, and several are closed for renovations - I think we would have been grasping at ideas on how to spent our time here for 3 days! Instead, we find ourselves with just 3 hours to wander the streets and get a feel for life in the city.

We made our way from the Port to the main square, passing through several markets, some destined for cruise traffic, some destined for locals. We picked up a street map of the city and the information centre in the middle of Place de la Victoire, then made our to the highest point in town to see the church with the see-through steeple, and the views of the town below. Back down the hill, we crossed back through the square to see the prettiest church in town, the church of St-Peter and St-Paul. Its columns and framework that remind me of the work of a certain Gustave Eiffel, which makes sense since the church was build around the same time as a certain tower in Paris, and everyone was imitating the architectural style.

After that, it was all just a maze of streets lined with shops and restaurants and apartments, music screaming out from inside, brightly coloured wigs and costumes for Carnaval filling the windows. We looked for somewhere to grab a bite, and ended up in the parking lot of the bus terminus, where several food trucks were parked, and people crowded round to get their lunch orders in. We joined the mass at one particularly busy place, and walked away with 2 bokit sandwiches, dough warm and tender but crunchy on the outside, filled to the brim with codfish and lettuce and carrot and tomato, perfectly spiced with local chilies. Forget the restaurants in town - this is the way to eat!

After lunch, we recovered our bags and headed to the Port for another eventful crossing into the Atlantic, though time time on a much larger ship, and a catamaran at that, so really not as bad as the small boat to La Désirade. Just as wet, though, as I watched the entire other half of the boat get soaked by a particularly large and violent wave! I laughed.

Disembarking on Marie-Galante felt just like entering any of the other seaside towns we've been to - it was upon collecting our rental car and driving out of Grand-Bourg that we realized the difference. Marie-Galante is an agricultural island, based on livestock and sugarcane, and the terrain reflects that. Basically a big flat pancake, the rolling hills are dotted with houses and lined with tropical fruit trees, and everything seems more peaceful and quiet. Following the very descriptive directions provided by our host, we managed to find the quaint little green and yellow bungalow that would be our home for the next little while, overlooking the only river on the island, la rivière des Sources. We were warmly greeting by Helena and her husband, who showed us the house, the land, and the wonders of a ti-punch made with the best rum on Marie-Galante. And we chatted of travel and culture, and the appreciation of something that comes from the earth and has soul to it, be it Guadeloupian rum or Canadian maple syrup. The whole conversation made our small gift to our hosts even more symbolic.

We spent the evening enjoying the peace and quiet of a blissfully large and breezy back deck overlooking the river, and contemplating how wonderful life would be if this was what you came home to every day. Mario mused that this must be where great writers comes to compose their life's work. Now I am calling him Hemmingway.

Until tomorrow.

Day trip to La Désirade!

Another fun excursion off the island - to ANOTHER island - because you can never have enough islands on one vacation. This brings us up to four, so far. It was an early start again this morning, so we could catch the ferry in Saint-Francois. Be warned, this is not a ride for the faint of heart. Severe roller-coaster enthusiasts should line up for this crossing because, holy cow, it was ROUGH. As we sailed past the Pointes des Châteaux, and head-first into the violent waters we had seen yesterday, the ferry began to fly over the waves, and crash into the surf below. And HARD - we watched as the horizon soared and plummeted beyond the boat, and La Désirade never seemed to get any closer. Behind me, a woman would scream every time the boat bounced and water sprayed inside the cabin, which freaked me out worse than the waves did. Of course, we didn't crash, or sink, and we did eventually arrive at La Désirade, but boy, was it a scary ride! I was glad to get my feet on solid ground again.

Speaking of solid ground, we decided to go it on foot again, walking the island rather than opting for easier methods, like scooters of 4x4s that were being renter in front of the pier. The main - and only - road stretches from one end of the island to the other, so its easy to explore and not get lost. We walked to Point à Galets, know for its colony of Antilles iguanas, a protected species. They come out at the hot times of the day to sun themselves, so if you are lucky, you can catch a glimpse of them nearby. So we headed out in the heat, baking ourselves in the sun, to explore the point and see the iguanas, and did we ever! But they were perched in bushes and trees, not lying on rocks like I thought they would be! And all over the place! We watched them climb up into the branches, or scurry away to hide - we even saw some bright green babyguanas! (Note: this became a sort of game as we hunted - trying to make up the most ridiculous, and relevant, words using "iguana", like treeguana, three-treeguana, seaguana...you get the picture.)

We watched car after car of people from our ferry crossing pass by, as most opt to rent a vehicle, and tour the island that way. We puzzled that they often drove round the point, barely stopping for photos, before driving on, and completely missing the iguanas! They must have thought us crazy to be photographing the bushes, but they were the ones who, later on, we overheard complaining that they had only spotted one measly iguanas, while we have captured a good dozen or so in the trees! It's amazing the little things you see while walking around.

Next, Mario had the great idea to hike to the chapel of Notre-Dame-du-Calvaire, hidden up on the plateau at the centre of the island. It didn't seem to be too difficult a climb, as the end we were on seemed to slope more gently upwards, so away we went. We admired the farmers who had located themselves on the slopes, and had random stand-offs with the wandering goats who crossed our path. We smelled the fragrant blooms that lined our path, as they warmed up in the sun and scent the air with their perfumes, and zig-zagged from shade patch to shade patch to avoid getting too burned. Turns out, it was tougher than expected, and it was still the hottest time of the day, so the going was slow, the road very rough, and I was not wearing good shoes for the climb. We never made it up to the chapel. Just past a little picnic area, where we stopped for lunch and a much-needed break, the road split ways, one side going up, up, up into the mountain, the other descending all the way back down into town. We took the easy way out, I'm afraid, and instead spent the afternoon lying on the beach, cooling off in the ocean, and sipping fruits juices in the shade. But we did have a marvelous morning of little wonders and discoveries from our walk across the island.

I spent the rest of the afternoon psyching myself up for the inevitable ferry ride back to Guadeloupe. Turns out, the return trip is ten times smoother. Thank goodness for that - I was able to breath a sigh of relief and just enjoy the ride.

Sunny days

A day communing with the sun - that's what I'll call today. That's certainly how my skin feels! We drove along the coast, lined with long, thin, sandy beaches, heading towards Pointes aux Châteaux. The point is known for a breath-taking line of rocks eroded by the pounding of the very violent ocean, and happens to be the eastern-most point of the big island of Guadeloupe. There is also a climb up to a great panorama, with a cross on top, though we don't know why - someone just thought that would be a good place for a pilgrimage, I guess!

We stopped first at the main vista, the one everyone goes to to see the power of the crashing waves, trying to capture the biggest, strongest one in the background of their photos, before beginning the walk up the point. The path was well-marked, sandy and climbed slowly until it reached a stairway that led straight to the cross. This part was a little more difficult for me than it should've been, given that my knees were still recovering from previously-mentioned treks, and I had something amiss with my left ankle. Not to be deterred by a little pain, as we were in Guadeloupe, after all, I just worked my way more slowly up the stairs to the top. The view extended all the way to La Désirade, but was not as awe-inspiring as it could've been. We were looking across the tops of the rocks, all in a line, and it gave the impression that we were looking down our nose at the ocean beyond. Nice, but it could be better. We followed the trail over the crest of the hill, to the volcanic outcropping just beyond, being pummeled by the waves. This allowed us to move past the rocks, and look back on them from the side. Much better! Here, we could see all the towered points, the rough surf below, and La Désirade, with the added bonus of a spectacular composition. This is stuff of brochures, people.

We continued walking, following the trail further along the volcanic outcropping, reminiscent us of the limestone caves of the Yucatan in Mexico. As the waves crashed along the coast, the water would fill up tidal pools that would drain either into bigger pools, or underground. The water was crystal clear, and warm, so we stopped to dunk our feet into one of them, while appreciating the power of the waves crashing below. Further along, we happened upon a beach, littered with big hunks of water-blasted coral, tiny little hermit crabs running around beneath them, and giant conch shells, battered by the surf. Sure, these shells weren't all polished up and sparkly like the ones in the shops, or sold on the side of the road, but we have found them, and they were FREE. Even better - and HEAVY! I hope my luggage gets loaded on the plane with these in it!

We returned to the trail head as grey clouds began threatening rain, so we stopped at a very ramshackled lunch shop, with hand-painted and illustrated menus, and a very colourful covered dining area, and the most delicious-looking food possible for what was essentially a food truck! Mario ordered a chicken platter, with salad and rice and vegetables, while I chose a basket of codfish fritters - accras - accompanied with loads of that yummy sauce chien. The chicken was smokey, meaty, the accras nicely spiced and hot from the fryer. We even got freshly-made fruit juices and a flambeed banana dessert included - keep in mind that this is all on the side of the road, at the trail head for Pointes aux Châteaux, and right next to the beach! Also, it did rain, lots, so we lucked out, eating our lunch under the shelter of the covered dining area!

Next, to work off all of that delicious food, Mario and I took a walk down the long beach, picked a good spot and went for a swim in the ocean. Yes, I got Mario in the water, but it was warm, and he didn't stay THAT long. I did. I love swimming in the ocean, the taste of the salt water, bobbing over the waves, feeling the sand under my feet. Afterwards, we lay on the sand for a little, drying off in the sun, then it was back in the car to head home for a shower and ti-punch, and a bit of relaxing.

This evening, we headed back into Saint-François to enjoy the nightlife and relative openess of a town after sunset. This morning, while buying tickets for the ferry to La Désirade, a young man approached us with a restaurant flyer, pointing the way, and insisting it was good because it was his mother in the kitchen. How can you refuse an offer like that?! We headed for Les Pieds dans l'Eau, which really did have its feet in the water, and though we didn't have a reservation, they welcomed us in and offered us the meals they could prepare. Here, you reserve at a restaurant to book your meal, not your table, since they don't keep everything on hand just in case - that would be wasteful. We started with a REAL ti-punch, lime and cane sugar, muddled in a small glass, then topped with as much rum as you like, they leave the bottle on the table. With a plate of accras and a simple green salad, we enjoy grilled red snapper, which we most likely saw at the market fresh this morning, and chicken colombo, with a heavy turmeric-curry sauce, and white rice. Both dishes were excellent, and radiated with that touch of home-cooked-meal.

We finished the evening with a walk around the marina in the cool sea air, which was very 

helpful in clearing our heads after that yummy ti-punch. Potent stuff!

Coffee and chocolate and travel days

It's a funny thing to realize, as you depart from location to the next on vacation, how quickly you can become attached to a place. This morning felt like that, as we were sloppily packing all our gear into the car and exchanging pleasantries with our hosts, Annie et Daniel, who had finally arrived from La Métropole (Paris, to the non-French amongst you) to escape winter. I could have spent our entire time here in Guadeloupe basing ourselves out of Trois-Rivières, but alas, it was time to move on to the next wonderous destination, and see what it held in store for us.


One last visit before we left the rolling mountains and volcanic ridges of Basse-Terre - a tour of the Habitation La Grivilière, to learn the hows and whys of coffee and cocoa bean production. Situated on the most intense road you have ever seen, it was a harrowing experience just to make it to the site. Barely one lane in places, riddled with steep inclines and blind corners, it required much straining just to see the road on the other side of hills, and lots of honking to warn oncoming traffic of our presence. I have never experience more white-knuckled driving than today, and I wasn't even the one driving! But thanks to Mario's patience with the car - and me - we made it in one piece.


We lucked out, catching up with a tour group just beginning their rounds about the garden, and joined just in time to taste what a fresh cacao bean tastes like, eaten straight from the pod. First, you suck on the slimey white exterior, which is soft, and tastes a bit like red grapes. Next, you bite into the bean, which tastes a little almondy, but basically like eating a raw bean. Our guide told us it is supposed to be great for the skin, making you look younger with every bite, which is why she eats them everyday. Next, we wandered past different fuit trees, grown in companionship with the coffee and cacao trees. The plantation is located in the middle of the National Park, so the trees cannot be treated in any way. Therefore, they have to use other methods to deter predators, or prevent disease. We saw more vanilla bean orchids, as well as banana, papaya , mango and jackfruit trees. We saw the different stages of growth and cultivation of coffee beans. We toured the historical houses of the plantation owner and workers, as this is the oldest plantation still in use on all of Guadeloupe. Finally, we finished up the tour with a tasting of Guadeloupe's finest coffee, classified fourth best in the world and only produced in small quantities. Well, Mario did - I had a cup of their "Chocolat de Pays", homemade hot chocolate, made with sweetened condensed milk and a handful of spices, and oh so delicious. You can bet that we stopped by the gift shop to stock up on both before heading back down the treacherously narrow road!


  Eventually, we made our way back to the highway, then to the route de la Traversée, which crosses through the mountain to the other side of Basse-Terre, heading back towards Pointe-à-Pitre. We made a brief stop at Morne Saint-Louis, which was supposed to have panoramic views, but it ended up being a cellphone tower service station, with one broken bench, and trees in serious need of trimming. We stayed and ate out lunch anyway, taking in what we could of the view of Guadeloupe sprawling before us, clouds hanging in the sky, threatening rain.


Down and down and down we went, finally exiting all those mountains(much to Mario's disappointment), and re-entering the more flat section of the island, crossing through Pointe-à-Pitre on our way to Saint-François. We had made arrangements to meet with Sebastien, who was renting us a place nearby, to meet at the tourist centre in town. We arrived in Saint-François with time to spare, so we wandered around a bit to check out the Marina, grab a glass for freshly-made juice, and do some small groceries. Once we met up with Sebastien, he led us back out of town to his rental place, a great little bungalow with a huge outdoor dining area, located a 5-minute walk from Anse de la Barque. He mentioned how, if we were lucky, we might come across a sea turtle digging its nest here. So far, though, we've seen 2 lizards, 2 frogs, 2 cats, a centipede, fruit-eating birds and super-speedy bats around this place, but no turtles - yet.

Welcome to the Jungle

Another day in Guadeloupe, another great adventure into the unknown. Again following a page from Mario's guidebook, we found ourselves en route the Chutes de Carbet, the tallest waterfall in the French Antilles. Consisting of 3 separate waterfalls, the water flowing downstream falls a total of 245 m, and the climb to reach the base of the first waterfall, the most spectacular, is 350 m. Another fun day of climbing, so away we went!

The site is very well constructed, with room for bus parking(amazing, given the climb on the access road, and we followed a giant tour bus all the way up!), and wheelchair access right up until the main viewing platform. At this point, the trail breaks away, though is still very well paved, to descend into the valley, where the viewpoint of the second waterfall is located. However, due to torrential rains and the 2004 earthquake, the viewing platform has become unstable, and is no longer accessible. Therefore, you can really only see the falls by straining to look around the corner of the forest. So, of course, we needed a better view. Off to the first falls!

At first, it began quite easily, with smalls climbs up rocks, or slopes, the trail gradually getting narrower. We crossed a few run-off streams, which makes sense since we were following the source uphill, and sometime a river overruns its banks. The trail got progressively steeper and steeper, turning into well-built stairs at one point which begs the question: who is in charge of the construction of said stairs, and how do they get the materials all the way up there?! Keep in mind that this section of stairs lasted a good 15-20 minutes!

Upon cresting the stairs, we began to descend towards the riverbed, to follow the falls to their source. This section was a lot more challenging, with the rocks being wet or muddy, and very steep. Some places had ropes to help us out. Often time I though how going down was easy, but coming back up would be hard, or the reverse. It was all very challenging. At one point, I sent Mario ahead to scout for falls, because it seemed we would be climbing forever to get there...it took him 2 seconds to discover that we were only only last climb away from that "aha" moment. You know, that moment when you crest the hill, and suddenly, that great sight you were searching for just spreads out in front of you? Yeah, just like that - poof - and we were facing all 115 m of magnificent waterfall.

Laid out like lizards on a sunny flat rock, we ate baguette sandwiches while watching all that water just fall. We could've stayed all day. In fact, we made last-minute changes to our plans for the day for just that reason, so we could just lay there and enjoy the moment. After all, what else would you want to do after hiking all the way out there in the first place?! Sadly, other people began showing up, and the place started to get a little crowded, so we began the long, arduous trek back, over the same rock faces, through the same riverbed runoffs, down the same long staircase in the middle of the rain forest.

Eventually we came upon the same trail head signs that led up back to the second falls, and finally the viewing platform just before the parking lot, and I was so happy to be back down that difficult trail that I kissed the marker. It was slimy, but so was most of the rest of the forest! We washed off the yellow mud from the falls(sulfur runoff from the volcano), changed into drier clothes, and returned down into Trois-Rivières.





The evening went much like the rest of evenings here, as we have fallen into a wonderful local routine: we shower off the dust of the day, then head to the bakery for coffee and our daily baguette. Returning home, we have a ti-punch while looking over the day's offering of photos, which can sometimes take awhile! Then we return down the street to Kaz A Manjé, the BBQ place where half the town gets in line to pick up grilled meats for dinner. We browse the options, often choosing the chicken drowned in Sauce Chien, with fries or accras(fried codfish dumplings). Back home, we pour everything out onto plates, pair it with a glass of wine or another ti-punch, and dig in.

That's it from Trois-Rivières - tomorrow we are moving on to the other side of the island. More on that later!