A trying day

Today was the most trying day of the vacation. Now I want you take that as lightly as possible, because we did some awesome stuff, and ultimately finished with a rum punch in our hand and a smile on our faces, but there were definitely moments that were harder to overcome today than most up to this point in the vacation. Ok, here goes:

We left our bungalow(perched much too high in the hills outside of Deshaies) comfortably late this morning, not needing to pack, just throwing all our bags into the trunk of the Picanto. Our goal for the day was to acquire some of the manioc flour galettes we had read about(only available on Sundays), but that involved wasting time until around noon,  when we would be sure to get some. What better place to waste time than a gorgeously soft, sandy beach with turquoise waters and lots of sun, right? Ok, off we go to soak up some rays on Plage de Grande-Anse, THE beach where everyone goes around Deshaies.


We arrive early enough that there should still be empty spots on the beach, set up our towels, and I head for the water(I love swimming in the ocean, and clearly don't get to do it enough) as Mario settles in with his book. The sand line here is steep, so when the rather violent waves crash into shore, they crash out with just as much force. You have to swim  quite far out to get to the calmer waters and float - so I do.  After, we lounge in the shade, relaxing, reading, people-watching(which is always fun), then sometime around noon, we head over to the Plage de la Perle and hopefully manioc galettes!

In a shack not far from the beach, a man grinds manioc root into a flour, that his wife then cooks into large round pancakes, stuffed with ham, cheese and spice, or coconut mixed with cinnamon. She fills large ring molds with the flour, topping, then more flour, and through the heating process, the manioc releases its very sticky starches and binds together into a chewy white cake. Called kassavs, they are warm, chewy and delicious - so much so that, after finishing the first round, we returned for seconds!

En route to our next airbnb, we decide to spend a few hours hiking an easy circular trail I found, which begins and ends at a natural sulfur hot spring, its water channeled into a sort-of shower. We drive up to the top of the mountain, head to the trail that departs right off the parking lot...and immediately find ourselves stuck in sloppy, gloopy mud. And lots of it. All over the trail. No way to get around it, no way to avoid it. We trek down the switchbacks and hills that should descend to the base of the Saut des Trois Cornes waterfall. In fact, we can hear it getting closer and closer with every sticky step. We turn off to continue along what we think is the right trail, and are presented with an even steeper, even muddier climb back up, and realize than the sound of falling water is getting further away the higher we go. At this point, I am fed up - scaling steep slopes is one thing, scaling them through slippery, sticky goo is another, and it is definitely not MY kind of thing. Mario ventures ahead to check out the terrain, as I inquire as to our whereabouts with other hikers. Turns out, we took the wrong turn for the falls, heading straight for the parking lot instead. Fine by me, I am DONE with this trail anyway. We finish the rest of the ascent, and walk through every puddle in the parking lot to wash our boots.

We take a quick splash through the stinky sulfuric hot springs shower, just to get the mud off, then away we go, practically running from this place. Mario admits having loved every hike that we have gone on this trip, but would NOT recommend this last trail to anyone. It was not fun, it was not enjoyable AND it was supposed to be ranked EASY!

From here, we head straight through Sainte-Rose, stopping for gas and carnaval monkeys, then through Pointe-à-Pitre to the other side of Guadeloupe, the flat side. Our stop for the night is on the east coast, in Le Moule, and so off we go to meet Cécile, our host. However, the directions she gave were not quite clear, nor were the maps she sent, which indicated more of a region rather than a specific house. We try to get closer using the GPS coordinates, but with no luck. Up one lane, down another we drive, looking for a white portal where we are supposed to turn right, and we should be right here!...Admitting defeat, we call up Cécile, who meets us at a nearby supermarket and leads us in the complete opposite direction! Down a dark gravel laneway we turn, into what looks like someone's driveway, and further still until we pull up in front of the house. Ouf. We NEVER would've found this place ourselves!

All is not lost, on this beach day-turned bad. After a really great shower, we venture back out into town, pull into a gravel parking lot with filled with colourful picnic tables and old men playing boules. A brightly-lit food truck pushes its wares to just about eveyone in town, or so it seems, so we join the crowd. We order 2 bokit sandwiches, fried dough stuffed with meat, lettuce and spicy sauce, take a seat in a green patio chair, and enjoy the warm alizé breezes blowing in from the ocean as we watch the town happen around us.

Sleep will come easy tonight, I think.

(on a lighter note, turns out that tropical frogs sound like Yoshi. Discuss.)