Rained out? Time for rum!

So it rained all night. Lots of rain, sometimes heavy, sometimes light. This morning, upon waking up, the sun is peaking through the clouds, as it always does, but there are little showers, too. We have come to expect this weather - on this side of Basse-Terre, one year of rain can bring up to 10 000 mm of precipitation. You read that right - TEN THOUSAND. So needless to say, there's gonna be a little bit of rain falling every single day. Except today, the rain continued to fall, sometimes heavy, sometimes light, but ever present. Not good for hiking, as we've seen on a previous episode. So what do you do on a tropical island when it rains? You go rum-tasting! Off we go!

We head for the far side of Basse-Terre, the capital city of this side of the island, also called Basse-Terre(oh, they are very original with their names here, let me tell you!). Just outside the city is the distillery de Bologne, third largest by size, but most impressive visually, from what I've seen so far. We enter on a long road, winding through the sugar can fields, slowly approaching the plantation. The factory is large, the tasting room well-designed, the boutique bright and elegant. You can tell this place had the foresight to design for the tourism opportunities it could seize. Up until now, we have only done self-guided tours of distilleries, reading our information on signs that are sometimes worn-away, sometimes missing some altogether, so we decide to go for broke and follow along with the guided tour.



Run making, particularly the agricole variety based on sugar cane, is a very self-sufficient process. During the production period of the year, the stills are heated by burning the fiber left behind during the juice extraction process. The machinery is run either on solar power, or methane power gathered during the juice fermentation. The remainder of the juice from the boiling process, called sirop de batterie(like a grassier-tasting molasses), is sold as a sweetener, and used in everything from cakes to the Ti'Punch we enjoy every evening. Any other vegetal residue is left behind in the fields after harvest, keeping the weeds down and fertilizing next year's crop. So really, we should all be drinking the rhum agricole, to support such a low-waste product!

As we follow the tour, heading in and out of the processing shed, and the bottling shed, and the aging shed, the rain slowed, then stopped, then started again. When we finally exit with our purchases in hand, the rain starts up. So what ELSE to do when it's raining on a tropical island? You wander through town, apparently. Now, this is not for everyone, but we hardened travelers don't care about a little rain! We have our trusty raincoats in tow!



First we head to the market, to ignore the hawkers, admire the variety of tropical fruits for sale, and smell the sweet air, perfumed with cinnamon and vanilla. Next, we happen upon some food trucks in a parking lot, and slide up to the first one for a bite. Salted cod sandwiches, bokits to be exact, dressed with spicy creole sauce, and stuffed inside fried bread. The rain picks up, so we hide out under the truck's canopy for a little, lunch in hand, then run across the street to the bandstand next to the ocean when the deluge slows. We enjoy the tender buns, the spicy and savory filling, while gazing out at the water all around. Beside us, several cats compete for a bite of bread someone discarded. Satisfied with our street food repast, we again try our luck with the weather and wander through town, down a quiet narrow lane, and past 2 boys trying to fix their bicycle, to the Fort Delgrès.

This is THE historical monument in town, once occupied by the inhabitants of the area, trying to fight off the reinstatement of slavery(unsuccessfully) by Napoleon, then taken easily by the English, who all died of yellow fever and other tropical diseases. It is very well preserved, very informative, but also very wet and spongy in the rain. We hop from powder shed to jail cell to barracks, taking our time exploring the areas with a roof and solid floor. We examine an exhibition on the Soufrière volcano and its unexpected 1976 eruption. We notice how the displays are state-of-the-art multimedia presentation, some brand-spanking-new, but often out of order. Further along, at the entrance, another display on the revitalization of the fort explains how the city received government grants to update the facilities. After much discussion on the matter, Mario and I believe all the money was sunk into a major upgrading of the fort's infrastructure, displays, offices, services, and all at once. Everything was made as new as it could be made. Once that money was used up, there was none left for servicing or maintenance, so as things broke, they were left broken. It is very sad, because it is so VERY new inside the museums, and yet so very broken.

The sun finally makes its appearance as we are weaving our way through the mountains on the drive home. The mist rises, the clouds thin, and from up here, we can see everything clearly, all the way to Dominica. It's a beautiful way to cap off a challenging, but ultimately enjoyable, day in the rain, here on a tropical island.