The trip to Marie-Galante

 Mario once said, "Home is where the wifi connects automatically". We've been to a few places in the world now, and some repeats, so this statement is especially true for some of our more preferred stops. This evening, once we unpacked and settled in at the Ti-Punch guesthouse on Marie-Galante for the 2nd time, I opened up my computer and, sure enough, I was already online. And it felt like coming home, though it was quite the trip to get here - let me rewind a bit.

This morning, back in Sainte-Rose, we were joined by a whole chorus of birds for breakfast, flitting around the hibiscus, coming in the kitchen window. I tried feeding them some of my granola, but they were having none of it.  I tossed all of my clothing down from the loft bedroom down to the living area to making packing easier. It was quite the mess. Needless to say, around 11, Mario and I were all packed and ready to head out. We said a final goodbye to Yves and Martine, our hosts, who had been lovely and welcoming the entire time, even inviting us back before we fly home, to taste the cacoa pods ripening on the tree! Then we booted along the rain-soaked roads into Sainte-Rose, to waste a few hours before the ferry to Marie-Galante.

First, we chose to while away the hours at the CreoleArt Museum, a very well put together museum by a local man who wanted to share his Guadeloupean heritage and upbringing with the world. We drank Kako peyi, a local "brut" hot chocolate drink, while we learned about medicinal plants of the country, some even having scientific studies to back up their claims. We waited out a short rainstorm under the protection of a sun shelter, and watched as a line of manioc ants decimated a nearby flowering plant.

We walked past 32 displays of Guadeloupe culture, representing each of the 32 municipalities on the island, then admired the tools shed of the founder, passed down to him from his grandfather. All of the creole culture on display in this museum comes from the founder's youth, learned through his upbringing living with his grandparents. 

There were some life-sized dioramas of the discovery of the Guadeloupe islands, as well as some depicting day-to-day life. This including such common tasks as coffee picking and roasting, cocoa bean picking and roasting, manioc grating and cooking, washing dishes or laundry with specific leaves, even the soft cotton-y ones once used as a natural toilet paper! These are all practices that still exist on the island, but as all old methods and traditions go, they are slowly losing ground to modern conveniences. This was the ultimate goal of the creation of this museum - creating a sort of time capsule of a day-to-day life in Guadeloupe that doesn't exist anymore. Mario and I really enjoyed it.

With still more time to waste before our delayed ferry(we got pushed to the late departure), we headed along the coast to Plage de la Perle, one of our favorite spots, and really not that far away at all. We packed our lunch, left our shoes in the car, and just strolled up and down the smooth sandy beach. We passed a group of military cadets likely on a practice mission on the beach, hammocks tied between the supports of gazebos, socks hanging everywhere. The entire group was in the water, splashing and frolicking in some particularly rough waves. We found a log under a tree, and sat down for lunch just as another band of rain rolled through. We'd been having short burst of rain all morning, so really, it was a good day to be travelling. 

We left the beach behind, the cadets and the kassav vendor. We left the cows with their bodyguard birds ,and the sugar can fields in bloom, and made our way to the big city of Pointe-à-Pitre. We exchanged the rental car for place on a big ferry, and, packed in like sardines, we crossed some rather rough seas to the sleepy island of Marie-Galante. 

This will be our home for the next week - in a guesthouse on the hillside above Grandbourg, with an outdoor living room and great view of the ocean. We breathed a sigh of relief when we finally arrived and tore off our masks after the long trek. No sooner did we dump our bags and we were back out again, down the hill into town, to Henry's Grill, to pick up our favorite poulet boucané with fries for dinner. His place is still happening 3 years on, though he is no longer cooking in the massive fireplace in the back, opting instead for 2 large smokers on the side of his shack. And the stream of people stopping for their chicken was constant. I am glad that some things don't change - it was nice coming home.