Last day on Marie-Galante

Sometimes, your well-laid plans get detoured, and you have to pivot to profit from every moment of a day. Our plan for this last full day on Marie-Galante was to follow the Hauts de Capesterre trail, a loop that hikes up, around and down through the town of Capesterre. We've not had much of a chance to visit the third largest town on this petite island, so the hiking trail was going to be a good introduction to the town. It seems that part of the trail runs through private property, and for whatever reason, the owner no longer wants to provide access and has blocked the trail with a large metal gate. 

So we pivot, and choose to go out to the east side of the island to Les Galeries, a short but technically difficult hike over sharp volcanic rocks to an eroded cave. The pointy rocks of the trail feel like they might stab right through your foot if you are not careful, and it's tough to find somewhere to place your hands that doesn't hurt - I even suggests that this might be a hike that requires some sort of gloves to navigate comfortably. 

The volcanic rock stage is very short, and over a bit too quickly, and we find refuge from the pounding of the sun underneath the "roof" of the Galeries, a rock structure that has eroded naturally to form a large cave. It's cool, and quiet, even being right next to the rough waves of the ocean crashing into the shoreline. We take a moment to enjoy a cool drink of water, and continue back up the hill from the coast.

Last time, I remember it being a great trail with a confusing end, where the trail markers disappear in the middle of a grassy field, and we ended up crossing through possibly someone's yard to regain the roadway. Though equally confusing, this time around we follow a gravel driveway back, still searching for those mysteriously missing trail markers. Maybe next time!

Back to Capesterre, we head to the beach for a quick picnic, then a walk around town. Capesterre seems like a sad little town that tried too hard to attract new residents with brand new cookie-cutter homes along the waterfront and fishing port, but instead succeeded in doing the opposite. The new homes were too new, and had none of the creole architecture nor charm, and it scared people away. Now, the line of homes sit empty, having never been lived in, doors permanently left open, windows crack, breaker box striped clean. We pass a sign in town mentioning something about the revitalisation of this area, so we'll just have to see in two years' time whether anything comes of it.

We head back along the coastal road, all the way to Plage Moustique again, to try our hand at some more snorkeling : I find entire schools of fish hidden in the cracks between limestone boulders, and a little white fish with black tail tips seems to follow my every move under the water. Mario spot a little ray in the sand! And in the cool breeze coming off the ocean, we relax and nap on the sand.

The evening is taken up mostly by packing, that act of trying to cram all of our belongings, some still very wet, back into out suitcases to move on to our next location. We do take the time to head back to Kreyol Fish for another delicious dinner, though the place is much more happening this time around, and somewhere after the main course, the waitress forgets about us until I approach her to pay, so we miss out on desserts. Instead, we split the last cookie and share our coffee(and milk) with the very present, and vocal, Blep cat.