Hiking close to home

Ouf, what a hot day! It's not even 8 am and we are toasting! Windows open, fan on while we eat breakfast, and a little walk around the garden in the shade to keep cool, but the world outside our 4 walls becons, and so we must answer that call. In the car, swimsuits in tow, off we go around the town, down the road to the marina, turning off early and heading towards Anse Duquery instead. As we pull into the parking area, we note that there is a school group here, gathered around a few picnic tables, girls checking their phones, boys joking in groups. Mario and I prepare our bags, pull on our boots, slather on sunscreen and head out. Luckily, we head down the opposite end of the trail from the students - their loud talking and laughter would likely scare off the wildlife!

We are following a trail that runs along the shoreline, but also along a historical route, with stops along the way. We get notions of archaeological explorations, start humming the soundtrack to Indiana Jones as we traipse through the jungle. We scramble over rocks to cross rivers. We hop from log to log to avoid mucky puddles. We discover ancient carvings left by the Arawaks, almost 2000 years ago, but we are in the same forest, and the rocks are like any other in the river, you just have to know where to look, and we can TOUCH them. It's a little surreal.

Further afield, we cross a old plantation, where the remaining walls of the mill house, the water wheel and other equipment, stand hidden under layers of vines, long ago lost to the forest, but not forgotten. Piles of rocks indicate where walls once enclosed a village, houses for the slaves, sectioned off from the main house. From a distance, we would not know these sights from the trees and vines that surround us - thank goodness for good signage! The one sight we CAN pick clearly out of all the green is the old windmill, last one standing on all of Basse-Terre, and recently saved from dangerous Figuier Maudit trees, whose roots overtake and destroy buildings. In fact, the seedling of one of these destructive trees has rooted itself in between the rocks of the upper wall. Nature taking over once again.

We reach the mid-point of the trail at an old battery, where cannons have be pulled from the ground and restored to their former glory, perched atop wooden bases, while still others lie half-buried under our feet. At this point, we choose to turn back around, since the heat is brutal, and the trail is not circular, so we will have to return on the same track anyway. On the return trip, we pass by some clear lagoons surrounded by palm trees. Mario decides to become a wild man of the jungle, and get a coconut fresh from the tree. Through a mixture of javelin launches, pole poking and rock throwing, he manages to dislodge not one but two yellow fruits, which we crack open back at the bungalow, and drain the refreshing liquid into our Ti'Punch. Mario is quite proud of himself....even though he doesn't like coconut.


We stop for a moment at the Anse Duquery to get refreshed in the water, but find a beach littered with plastic crumbs, driftwood bits, scraps of fishing nets. The tide is rough, not encouraging for swimming, so instead we walk the beach, gathering tiny pearls of polished beach glass. As our last evening in Trois Rivières slowly comes to a close, we walk along streets we have not yet explored,  ultimately making our way back to Kaz à Manjé for our chicken boucané with spicy sauce chien, and opt to dine alfresco.