Re-acquaintance with Port-Louis

 I sit here and absentmindedly scratch at one of several mosquito bites on my arm. They are bad, here in Port-Louis, but also in Guadeloupe in general - tiny, practically invisible, and they don't bite for blood. I am pretty convinced they bite just to inject extra-potent, extra-itchy venom, and they come back multiple times, too. So I am covered in tiny bumps of super-itchy, bitey venom, and I still have not squashed a single one of them. I think that I am losing the battle. But I digress - 

Mario and I arrived here 2 days ago, having traveled over from the opposite side of Basse-Terre. It's almost as far as you can travel in Guadeloupe by car. As a result, we had to organize our transit here to avoid a couple of fresh road blocks erected during the early morning hours on Friday. The population is getting impatient, and as the promise of restrictions lifting is all the news in France, they are waiting for the news to travel over to the powers that be here in the overseas departments, and all we are getting is more restrictions. But it makes sense - the Covid-19 numbers are still too high, the vaccination rates are still much too low, and the people are going about their daily business as though nothing has changed. On top of that, the teachers are striking, the health workers against the vaccine passports are striking, and with all good demonstrations comes the trouble makers, the looters, the violent few who make a bad name for the peaceful masses. So now the government has lowered the curfew to 6 pm in Pointe-à-Pitre, likely as an attempt to subdue the population, but it's being seeing only as a punishment, like putting a child in their room, only to have them come out even more upset in the end. We're just watching it play out.

So up and over the line of mountains in the middle of Basse-Terre, fresh and green and full of rain, with its cooling temperatures, and back down and out into the lush agricultural fields in the north, across the bridge and through Pointe-à-Pitre as fast as the highway will take us, and to the southern coast of Grande-Terre, with its turquoise waters, white sand beach, and tons of tourists. This is where the masses travel to for their holidays - it's where all the big resorts and fancy hotels are, the boutiques and casinos, the golf course. We drive through Gosier and Sainte-Anne as fast as possible - too many people for us.

One of our first loves in Guadeloupe was the codfish fritters, accras, that we seek out wherever we go.  And we have yet to taste any as good as the ones we ate 5 years at a little wooden shack with hand-painted signs on the side of the hiking trail that loops around Pointe des Chateaux. Every trip to Guadeloupe must include at least one trip out there to indulge in the arguably the best accras on the island, and this trip is no exception, so our obvious destination on the south coast of Grande-Terre is Pointe des Chateaux, the little wooden shack on the side of the hiking trail, and a platter of the tastiest, crispy fried dumplings, just a little bit spicy, with their amazing tomatoey sauce chien dipping sauce. And yes, they were just as good as I remember them. The bokit sandwich wasn't bad, either.

We stay in the area for a little, finding what we think is a private beach that no one knows about, only to be joined by 3 young men with their music and case of Heineken beer, and a septuagenarian couple that sat down right beside and promptly removed all of their clothing. After whiling away the afternoon on that beach, attempting to avert our eyes, we packed up and headed back across the top of Grande-Terre, to Port-Louis, our home for the week.

We've been to Port-Louis before, 5 years ago, where we stayed at a compound-like residence where the family in charge were lovely and welcoming, but a little too clinging. We felt we had to sneak around any time we wanted to leave the place, and were held somewhat hostage for all evening meals, leaving us no real time to walk around and explore the town. This year, we opted for a beautifully decorated studio apartment on the opposite side of town, about a 10-minute walk from the beach. After dropping our bags and absolutely falling in love with the place, we drove around all the streets in an attempt to find food. We had moderate success, managing to get some groceries, fruits and vegetables, and baguettes for breakfast and lunch, but missing out on the elusive grilled chicken stalls that seem to always be well-hidden. Oh well, there is always pasta to be had, and we will continue the hunt for tasty meats until we are successful.

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Saturday was a bit more of the same-old, same-old. Delicious, fruit-filled granola for breakfast, packed baguette sandwiches for lunch. We donned our still-muddy hiking boots and headed towards Anse du Souffleur beach, about 10 minutes away, and continued our walk past the cemetery to the hiking trail that runs the length of the coast all the way to th next town over. It passes beside a whole bunch of little hidden beaches, some lovely coral lagoons that we will check out another time, and dips into a mangrove forest on a really beautiful boardwalk trail. It almost feels as though, if you stand still for too long, the leggy roots of the mangroves will walk right over and encircle you, and if that doesn't work, the aerial roots will ensnare you. It's the stuff of childhood nightmares.

We hike about halfway to Anse-Bertrand, but the heat and repetitive nature of the trail at this point turns us back around towards the cool waves. We find a opening to the beach that is not occupied by a local family having their weekly picnic, and float in the the calm, cool waters. Always a great way to end a hike in Guadeloupe!

Once back at the rental, showered and changed, we head out to explore the town on foot, and properly this time. Dinner is our goal, but reconnaissance is our mission. We're here for a week, we should at least figure out where things are! We walk from the studio all the way to the waterfront, where all the well-dressed ladies of Port-Louis are filing into the church the evening's service. We pass the pizza take-out, the only place we really noticed last night. We take note of grocery stores, fruits markets, pharmacies - we notice they are all small but frequent in this town, with varying amounts of inventory. Some places are well-stocked, others only have drinks, diapers and toilet paper. But no food stalls, no take-out joints, and the one open restaurant we spot is one we've been to before, and it's a little too fancy to be eating at every night.