Tuesday 16th March (Lini’s Journal)
Brindabella's Web Diary
Simon Williams
Thu 18 Mar 2010 11:52
options to do today, when Andrew stopped by and asked if we wanted to
join an island tour that was just leaving. A frantic two minutes of
dressing and chucking stuff into a rucksack commenced while Andrew
waited alongside in Sea Bird. Four Germans, our companions for the day
waited on the dock where we were handed over to Winstone, our taxi
driver for the day. All Dominican taxi drivers now have to take exams
in history and first aid and are fully qualified tour guides and
Winstone was excellent.
It was a windless day without a whiff of a breeze to cool the
baking sun, so it was wonderful to be on the move with the windows
open in the aging minibus. As we drove along the north coast I
instantly fell deeper in love with this beautiful island, the jewel in
the crown of Caribbean islands so far. In contrast to other islands
even the tiniest of houses had flowers growing in their gardens with
many vegetable plots too. The island was a blaze of colour with the
bright pink, and yellow, green and orange variegated shrubs planted
alongside the roads. These grew in most gardens too together with
hibiscus and bougainvilleas adding a riot of colour. We soon came to
the village of Calibishe which had won prizes for the prettiest on the
island and a delight to drive through. Just before Wesley, named after
the founder of the Methodist church, Winstone pointed out a tiny
building which used to be his school and then church until Wesley
funded the building of a new one a few miles away.
The Chinese have just funded a sports stadium in Roseau the capital
and also an extension to the airport runway. The road circled the end
of the new section on reclaimed land into a bay where workmen erecting
the fencing and setting the curb stones looked up to wave. The one jet
plane that arrives daily sat in solitude on the runway. I hoped the
extension wouldn’t open the floodgates once there are direct flights
from Europe and the island become ruined by tourism as we’ve seen so
much this trip. With tourists giving the economy such a boost it must
be hard for the locals not to focus on what they can make most money
from. Certainly the area around the university accommodation for a
thousand American students looked nothing like the rest of the island.
EU money had been spent on a new fishing port in Marigot where
everything looked squeaky new and a little out of place.
Winstone gave us a great commentary, taking us to his village
en-route as requested and showing us a favourite picnic spot on a
river where apparently it is wonderful to take your goat to barbecue
in the shade under the road bridge! Locals waved and Winstone beeped
the horn and called out to friends every minute or so, occasionally
stopping to taxi a young lady to the next village. We stopped to taste
some lotus nuts/ fruits which David was apparently to have eaten with
honey in the bible. We also picked lemongrass and bayleaves. Down the
stunning east coast we stopped for fantastic views over the coast and
walked down to the Red Rocks, which seemed to be made of compacted
sand. Just before Uncle Sam’s grocery plaza Winstone called out to a
kiosk and bought water, then late morning we bought cassava bread
being baked on a fire beside the road on a sheet of metal. We snacked
as we continued our journey.
The Carib territory was quite interesting with the true descendants
easily recognisable with their high cheek bones and almost Asian eyes.
We stopped where stalls sold fruit, basketware, carved wood and
jewellery then drove onto Castle Bruce where we stopped for lunch. No
doubt the taxi drivers receive a cut for bringing tourists every day
but it was a great location looking over crops out to a beautiful bay.
Hummingbirds hovered in the flowers close by and lizards scurried
along the balustrades. We sat with our German travel companions and
chose between steamed fish or chicken stew, the two meals on offer
today. While waiting we sipped chilled, freshly made mango juice and
admired the view: A tough life! Lunch came with a tasty plateful of
local vegetables some of which we had to ask Winstone to identify
later. That he did; not only explaining but stopping beside the crops
and sometimes picking things off plants and trees for us. He explained
that all of the planting there produced crops of some sort and wasn’t
just forest. Avocadoes, mangoes, coconuts, bananas, pineapples,
grapefruit, coffee, cocoa, breadfruit, cashew nuts, cinnamon, dasheen
and passion fruit were brought to our attention, the former five being
the major exports from the country.
As we headed inland I wondered how many houses we’d seen had
running water as standpipes/pumps were frequently being used beside
the road. One lady was doing the dishes, another the laundry; some
were filling buckets. I had to giggle at some of the outside loos made
of rusting corrugated metal and odd pieces of wood and frequently
nudged Simon with a, “Streuth Mate! Look at the state of that dunny!”
The bus shelters were also entertaining and many a work of art: I lost
count of the number of paintings of waterfalls on the inside walls and
others offered top tips about avoiding drugs, loving everyone and
staying happy in ‘60s style flower power artwork. Brightly painted
bins along the road also encouraged all to keep the island clean.
We did little more than turn into the car park at Emerald Falls
before seeing coaches lined up and a mass of tourists. Winstone did a
u turn and took us to nearby Spanni Falls which although are not so
spectacular were certainly more appealing away from the crowds. He
stopped for an afternoon snooze while we walked into the forest
through a tangled mass of tree roots and came to the first waterfalls.
The cold fresh water was guaranteed to wake us up for the Tarzan trail
to the next waterfall. We clambered over rocks to a steep bank with a
rope to help haul oneself up. The narrow trail skirted a drop into the
next valley where we dropped down another bank into more cooling
water. It was very reminiscent of the levadas in Madeira only on a
smaller scale. One of the German girls badly fell on a knee and after
cooling it with chilly water had to struggle on one leg back to the
path where her hunky crewmates could then carry her. Simon and I went
on ahead and asked Winstone to reverse the minibus as far up the track
as he could which was most appreciated by the German guys. Like so
many of the islands the west coast wasn’t half as stunning as the east
but there was still fab mountains and gorges, views out to sea and
villages tucked into the valleys to entertain.
What a brilliant day and back in Portsmouth we thanked Winstone
with a nice tip. A fruit order awaited the Germans by the dock and a
whole branch of bananas, grapefruit and mangoes were loaded into the
water taxi. We waited while fruit, crew and the patient were returned
to their boat, then Cobra brought us home to Brindabella with his mate
Bogart. Seeing my bay leaves he said he’d drop me some more by. A
short while later we skipped dinner in favour of an evening drinking
rum with our new friend while listening to stories of his travels
between his flying trip to help a boat pick up a mooring buoy. It was
a shame that a restful night didn’t follow with Brindabella rolling
terribly in the westerly swell and both of us becoming more and more
agitated as we were unable to sleep.