Volcano and vanilla, sort of.

Exactly 2 years ago, we took a flight south to the Caribbean islands of Guadeloupe. Today, we return to a former haunt, the Soufrière Volcano, for more more hiking and exploration, and hopefully more sunny skies and less fog messing up the views of the coastal towns below. We head off relatively early in terms of Guadeloupe time, but still manage to grab the very last spot in the parking when we make it to the top of mountain. Others will be forced to line the road and walk from there - lucky us!

This early, the hikers arriving at La Soufrière are the more serious ones, the properly shoed and well-prepared, those who are in it for the long haul. Later in the day is when the day-trippers arrive: bright white sneakers, colourful short-shorts, dragging their purse or their travel bag, mostly looking for the easy way up, the phenomenal viewpoint, and the chance to go swimming afterwards. More on that later. We are prepared. We are sporting hiking boots and backpack, have packed our raincoats - because it WILL rain on La Soufrière - and a baguette sandwich for lunch. We make our way up the easy Pas du Roy trail, smooth and lined with stones, then turn off on the Galion par l'Armistice trail. Here we will be climbing up to a dormant volcano-turned-crater lake, and looping our way back down to the relaxing Bains Jaunes, sulfurous hot springs(which are great for soothing sore hiking muscles).
Now this trail is not an easy one. First we slowly descend into the valley of the Galion waterfalls, the large part being more rock scramble than hike. The trails are slippery with mud, which catches us off-guard more than once with its indistinguishable depth, and the rocks are slick and covered with moss. All around us, the rain forest soars upwards - giant trees are covered in moss, covered in vines, covered in air plants. Each one is its own ecosystem. Birds swoop a little too close, and the chirping of frogs is the soundtrack to our wandering through the brush.

We stop for a moment at the falls. This is the lowest altitude we with reach on this hike - after now, everything is uphill - my favorite. The falls are serene, splashing quietly over several levels of rock, falling in straight streams into the pools below. We pass an older French couple also doing the Galion-Armistice loop, and chat a little. They recognize the Canadian accent - they have a son who lives in Verdun. They have a daughter who lives in Guadeloupe. They have hiked these trails many times before, and are suitably prepared, judging by their backpacks and the size of the first aid kit the woman pulls out to treats some scrapes on her husband's knee. We cross paths several more times on the climb up, exchanging conversation and encouraging words as the trail gets steeper and more challenging.

When I looked at the trail elevation profile while planning this adventure, the portion leading up to the crater mouth climbed almost 400 m over a distance of 1000 m. Ask anyone who climbs mountains - that is steep. We didn't realize how much until we are presented with ladder-like root structures to scramble up, or muddy canyons that run vertical rather than horizontal. Even better - we realize that we are ascending through the bed of one of the run-off streams, so every step, every footfall is in water. Then it begins to rain. The overhead branches seems to fall, drooping closer and closer to our heads, the walls of the canyon squeezing in tighter and tighter, with just enough room to pass, but sideways...And suddenly, the plant life drops away, the trail opens up, and we emerge into the fog that covers the top of the Citerne crater. Success! From here, the trail is mostly a slow downhill along the service road, so we grab our sandwiches and munch as we ramble along, stretching our legs and hoping for a break in the clouds.

Back at the bottoms, we do a quick change in the car and make our way to the hot springs to relax. Those day-hikers I mentioned earlier are here, dipping their feet in the water, some having made the drive up here just for this. Jumping in the basin,  I feel as thought I am on display - one of the few who climbed, one of the few in the water - but I don't care. I EARNED this. I worked my butt off to soak in these soothing waters - I'm going to enjoy it.

Not satisfied with calling it a day at only 2 in the afternoon, Mario and I drive a little further from Saint-Claude, to the Habitation Vanibel, known for their vanilla production. Another day, another tour of the goings-on at a plantation, and we get the run-down of coffee bean growth, cacao bean cultivation, vanilla orchid pollination and on and on and on. What we do learn, as we did yesterday with Laurent the banana man, is that hurricanes Irma and Maria dealt a devastating blow to the crops here too, stunting the coffee production, and all but halting the vanilla beans. Vanilla beans come from orchids, which are pollinated by hand. The orchid stem, more of a vine, winds its way around neighboring trees, trained there by gentle caretakers. It takes a lot of work to produce the vanilla, and as we are told, the only ones replanted on the grounds are there for OUR benefit, as the time investment to properly produce crops is now too much for the plantation to undertake financially. They have no more vanilla, and the same goes for many places on this side of the island, some of whom have simply shut their doors permanently. When it comes to Guadeloupe, we heard little on the news of the ravages of the storms, as though they had been spared. Turns out the island was hit on a very different level.

This evening finds us sitting down to our favorite chicken dinner again, this time with a side of cucumbers and tomatoes bought at the fruit market down the road.  While there, the owner's son serves us with pride, bagging every single item with care, all while asking us if there are good schools in Canada, hoping they speak french as he is no good with English. Later, I poke at my hiking bruises while Mario watches a documentary on Hitler and Lenin, and the occupation of Poland just before WWII. I fall asleep several times before finally heading off to bed.