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Welcome to my travel log! You will find here a lot more than in the travel reports, stripped from political correctness. Enjoy! 
Mar 23, 2006 07:00 PM Accra - first steps in Ghana
I landed in Accra about one hour after sunset. The formalities at the airport went very smoothly. Finding the correct way was a challenge, though. I could not believe that I actually found it funny that I had absolutely no idea, which way to go. I also stopped one of the airport personnel to tell me the right way, and they did not know either. I actually pointed them the totally contradicting signs. There were two signs, about five metres apart. Both were directing to car rental offices, but they were showing exactly opposite ways. I followed each of the directions and none of them actually led to the car rental offices. They were leading nowhere, or to be specific, to cul-de-sacs.
I eventually left the airport through the main door telling every single taxi driver that I had rented a car and that instead of going to town, I was going to find it.
I called Avis who told me that they did not have my reservation. Nevertheless, and since I insisted, they said they were coming to the airport to pick me up and discuss. When they came I showed them my reservation printed out.
Well, they took me to my hotel in Adabraka, and we had a little discussion. The problem was that they did not want to accept the rate that the central Avis reservation gave me. They also argued that I would need to pay cash, which I categorically opted out. I expressed my options and asked them to think about them over night and come back to me in the morning with their offer.
My grotty and poor hotel quickly established the level of my expectations. I kept repeating in my head that I was in Africa (again) and that this was going to be the standard of my accommodation, so I had to accept that. It was not a big deal anyway.
The hotel wanted me to pay for the room up front, and since I had no local currency, the bell boy took me to exchange office at Novotel in the city centre. I then took him to a restaurant back in Adabraka.
He selected a terraced restaurant, which proved a rather good spot to bring a date for a drink. Many guys did. They came, had one drink, sat down for about twenty minutes and left. A few couples did that!
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Jan 16, 2006 07:00 PM Aruba - a famous lighthouse
Now, after I had visited al the other islands of my itinerary, I have to say that Aruba might just have been my favourite. The beaches were most definitely the best of all I saw (with perhaps one at Dominica, which could be on par), bars and restaurants were probably the best of all and the variety of cuisine was superb. Public transport was most comfortable and easiest to understand. It was clean, organised and safe. How civilised! I should have hated that!
No, when one speaks about the Caribbean, you picture the scenes from the utterly unrealistic films about rich people having a break, or worse, getting married on one of the islands. The Caribbean are not like that at all. They are generally underdeveloped and disorderly. Whatever one might tell you. Well, not Aruba!
Uh, before I close this chapter, let me tell you the last episode of the trip, since it happened on the Arashi beach.
After I landed on Aruba again, I only had a few hours, well almost all day actually, to kill time and see something I had not managed to see when I was on the island for the first time. It was obviously the lovely beach Arashi and the famous California Lighthouse at the northern end of the island.
I took a taxi from the airport to Oranjestad and had lunch there. I opted for a lobster dinner at one of the restaurants near the cinema, and the place where all the iguanas were taking advantage of sunny day.
Then, I took a taxi to the lighthouse. I had some of the local currency left. The lighthouse did not occupy me very long, because I could not climb to the top and, apart from a nice restaurant on the hill (bearing in mind that I had just eaten), there was absolutely nothing around.
A group of tourists were taking a few pictures of the lighthouse as well, and they gave a short lift to the Arashi beach, since the walk down the hill to the beach was very tricky. There was no walkway, or path.
I stayed about an hour and a half on the beach absorbing the sunrays until the sunset. Four local guys came to take a sunset dip in the ocean. They were really enjoying it and it was the first time that I saw any local people on the beach. The trick was that the beach was slightly away from all the classy hotels and it was pretty empty. I could see very clearly why locals would prefer coming all the way to the end of the island to take a swim.
I asked them if they could give me a lift to the town, and they were very happy to do so. They actually made a few extra miles to take me to the central bus terminal. They were very funny and talkative. And they were driving, what I can only call, a dilapidated van, which was most definitely on its last legs. The side door could not be closed properly and the seats were loose. I truly loved that ride.
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Jan 15, 2006 07:00 PM Puerto Rico - colours, forts, Hispanic architecture, etc
I was supposed to just pass through Puerto Rico, colonised by the USA, in transit between flights. However, having read about old San Juan, and spoken to a Puertorican flight attendant, I changed my ticket and stayed one day.
My ticket change did not cost me anything at all. I did mention to the lady that I wanted to see San Juan, and since she was Puertorican, she might have fooled the system. My ticket was not flexible! And I was very happy.
First, I needed to find a hotel. I spoke to the taxi driver (first in English, then in Spanish) what I needed and he took me to a slightly overpriced hotel, right outside one of San Juan's forts. My room was not ready so I immediately took off for some exploring and wandering.
The morning and early afternoon weather was glorious. The old town of San Juan was not large but after three hours trekking I was sweating like some fur animal. Say, guinea pig.
The town was seriously photogenic. It was very Hispanic. The majority of the streets were cobbled, narrow and full of colonial houses painted in vivid, almost diabolical colours, like the one on the picture above.
Right at the Castillo de San Felipe del Morro, on the green, about a hundred of people flew kites. They had many different shapes and colours, from plain paper plane shapes to very colourful butterflies and four-winged dragonflies. I have never seen so many kites flying in one spot. That was quite surreal because an historical cemetery was just few feet away.
The fort was impressive. It was sophisticated and quite large, and perfectly embedded in the city walls. A real masterpiece! It was unusual, I think.
Uh, also, one other peculiar things of Puerto Rico is that motor vehicles do not front registration plates. They had only the back ones.
Many of the grand mansions in the old town were neatly decorated with various plants, some of them with colourful flowers. I am not sure how to describe the atmosphere of San Juan. It was heavily Americanised by large, oversize motor vehicles, overweight citizens and little green pieces of paper circulating everywhere, called dollars. Yet, there was this Latino magic in the air.
The air actually shivered. It was so hot. One would imagine that in the town like San Juan, there would be plenty of cafes, restaurants and bars so one could stop and have a drink. I was walking around, first looking for a place to drink something, and then, to grab a bite. In vain!
I kept looking and looking. It was so bad, that I had step into a little shop, buy a bottle of Snapple and drink it standing by the counter! There were few places serving food and most of them were closed during the day. I could not believe it.
Then, in the evening, I enquired about a Thai restaurant. It was bound to be somewhere! Puerto Rico was almost America.. I know, I am sorry. So, I found two of Thai restaurants, one in the old town and the other in the adjacent modern and over touristy town of Isla Verde. By the time I found out about them, it was raining very badly. And I did not have an umbrella. I would not matter, because one of the restaurants was close to the hotel, so I could quickly walk there. I could not take a taxi there, because it was simply too close. Yet, I had to wait for the rain to stop a little, because it was literally bucketing.
The hotel did not have a spare umbrella, so the front desk guy lent me his. He said he would get another one from somewhere.
Happy and totally focused, I went on tracking the restaurant. The helpful front desk guy had no idea, in which direction I should head although I gave him the exact address. I had a slight dejá vu, as I was again wandering around the town looking for a restaurant. I could not believe that I could not find it!
I lost my patience after an hour and grabbed a taxi. The taxi driver had no idea what I was talking about and then I just told him to take to the other restaurant in Isla Verde. There they told me that the first restaurant in the old town did not exist, and that it had been moved to where I was sitting at that very moment. It did not matter to anyone that it changed the name, and the relevant books simply added it one without taking the old one out.
So, I decided to be cheeky and make it up to myself and told the restaurant that it was my birthday. I got a free ice-cream desert! It was good.
In the morning, weather was better and before my mid-day flight, I took off to visit one of the forts. After that I went on wandering again, and all over sudden I found places from certain colourful postcards that I had not managed to see before. One of them was this super-colour little street by the city’s museum and a monastery. This is what I meant when I mentioned the vividly painted colonial houses. These were on the extreme end of vividness.
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Jan 14, 2006 07:00 PM Grenada - hills, a perfect beach, and friendly locals
My first impression of the next independent island on my holiday schedule, Grenada, was the quality of La Sagesse Natural Reserve, at which I was staying, and its surroundings: almost a perfect beach!
I arrived to Grenada during the hours of darkness and was slightly annoyed with the taxi driver, who was flirting with a lady while I was waiting with my entire luggage to board the car. He was stopping on the way to deal with his business and overcharged me! Well, I know how the taxi drivers were around the world, so I did not let this get in the way of what l thought about the island.
What I wanted to say was that since I came at night, I did not see much on the way from the airport, which would be my first glance of the island.
The beach at La Sagesse was excellent. It was a little narrow at high tide but the sand was soft and hundreds of palmtrees provided shade if necessary. I could not believe that the place had been a complete ruin after one of the hurricanes, which devastated the island a few years back. It was fully restored and superb!
I took a local minibus to the capital town, St. George's. It was completely packed with fifty percent more people than there were seats. However it was twenty times cheaper than taking a taxi. And I could experience the local way of travelling. The trip was short so why not? It did not hurt at all.
As I saw the picturesque towns of Grenada, Nicaragua and Granada, Spain, I expected St. George's of Grenada to be photogenic, too. And it was.
The town was situated on several hills and at a natural sea harbour. It exhibited fine examples of Georgian architecture (see below) as well as more 'tropical' buildings. However, a few buildings, including at least three churches, required fundamental repair. I was not sure as a result of what aftermath.
I thought I found myself lucky to be in St. George's on Saturday, a day of fruit market. The town square was crammed with vendors selling not only fruit and produce but also spices, clothing, and illegal CDs and DVDs. There were also a few booths providing beer-based refreshments - and those were equally popular. I found a liquor shop where I got my Angostura 1824 rum.
Two mid-size cruise ships moored in the port and taxi drivers were going mad. I later realised that passengers from the cruise ships normally went to the beach at Grand Anse, south of the capital. So, I went there, too. To check it out.
The Grand Anse beach was fine with nice sands and plenty of room. However, much of the space was taken. I mean the place was busy. Not only it was a place for tourists staying at the nearby hotels, but also the cruise ships unloaded their human cargo there.
Two or three hotels directly on the beach, with beach bar facilities provided the necessary snacks and drinks. In addition there was a cheap-shit craft market, of course, where one could also get drinks and simple food.
Local guys tried to make some money by offering a provisional waiting service. They cruised around deck chairs on the beach with a list of items they could fetch on a tray from the bars. I think it was quite clever. I saw many people used this service happily and frequently.
I got myself a drink and sat down near the craft market by three guys who smoked, what was smelling like, marijuana. We chatted a little. They were very friendly. They asked me how my day had been and what they could do to make it better. I think they meant the smoke...
Anyway, the beach at La Sagesse was much, much better so I decided to go back to my hotel. The only transport option directly from the beach was a taxi. Actually many taxi drivers kept asking me when I was going back to my ship. They could not believe that I had not come on a cruiser. The competition was fierce and had no problem negotiating a good deal. In fact, it was so good that I decided to give the man, named Matthew, a job to take me to the airport the next morning. He was very happy. He gave me his mobile number and said that I should not worry, because he lived nearby.
My hotel was not thrilled that I made this arrangement. They claimed that local taxi drivers were unreliable and that I was going to miss my plane. They obviously would prefer that I took their overpriced taxi service. I told them how much more they were charging and they pretended that they did not believe me.
The evening at my beach was great. A few boys played football on the beach and swam in the sea. A pretty girl was posing for a lady photographer who was taking her job very seriously and got wet by huge waves flooding the beach at random. I thought it was a little too much with this posing. I might not understand the idea of professional photographing, but taking hundreds of shots of the same pose in the course of two hours was ridiculous.
Later, hordes of people arrived to shoot Gigabytes of photographs of the beach. I had to wait a longer while before my frame was free of people. And it was significantly darker than I wanted it to be, because the crowds came for the sunset.
I lingered on the beach for a longer while and took a few photographs of the late sunset. I missed a great shot of low flying line of birds, but I guess it was already too dark to take it anyway.
I met a young, very good looking couple there, Allan and Likesha (pictured on the right), who tried to escape everyone and spend some time together as the lad had a day off. The evening was perfect for it, whatever they were up to, hi hi.
Allan was working as a customer relations representative at one of the major international chain of stores, and Likesha was still at school.
They later joined me for dinner during which I found that Likesha somehow lost her earrings... :)
We spoke a little about life, the universe and everything. They were good people, although Likesha was a little infantile and sounded somewhat immaturely arrogant. She was very young indeed.
Eventually the restaurant closed down and we were faced with a challenge to get Allan and Likesha home. Buses did not run anymore and neither the taxi drivers, whom the hotel or I knew, were available. I had to ask the hotel security guard to drive my guests home. All worked fine. It was a good evening.
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Jan 13, 2006 07:00 PM Barbados - windmills and beaches
As soon as I arrived, I kept hearing that the Harrison's Cave was a must-see attraction, that it was superb and unique. Many locals guaranteed (including the owner of the villa I rented) that I had never before seen a more beautiful cave. I told them that I had been to ninety countries before and seen many caves. They remained confident nevertheless.
Well, the cave was well below average, in the terms of attractiveness. I had seen much more spectacular caves in Poland, Majorca, Slovenia, Madagascar, and Vietnam. I was cheeky enough to tell the Barbadians that. They were surprised to hear it.
I think the cave on Barbados, although quite special for the Caribbean, was over commercialised. The entry to the cave was artificially and horribly enlarged to fit a tourist train! The number of halls and the stalactite forms was insignificant. I heard that the authorities were planning a more adventurous routes in the cave system, which in my opinion would increase the attractiveness of the venue.
I also went to see the oldest and only fully operational and actually working sugar windmill in the Caribbean - the Morgan Lewis Mill (pictured on the left). This one I liked. It was positioned on the Cherry Hill close to the island's highest point and offered great views. It did look authentic and old.
Barbados also had a few very interesting churches and plantation houses. I went to see a few of them. They definitely followed the Anglo-Saxon styles of architecture with an interesting tropical touch.
I particularly liked the St. John's Church - apparently Barbados's number one tourist attraction. I liked a grave there from the year of 1666 with old English inscription.
In Bridgetown, the capital of Barbados, I liked the bustle and animation of the streets. The pavements were packed with traders and shoppers, boy scouts and girl brownies, and school kids wearing specific school uniforms. Each school had its own uniform, to allow for quick identification of potential trouble makers or truants, apparently.
I spent almost three quarters of an hour pursuing the purchase of postal stamps. People kept directing me to places, which supposed to sell stamps but they did not. I almost lost my patience running from one street to another, from one shopping mall to another! I eventually got what I needed, and with a smile.
I was quite impressed with the Parliament and the Free Library buildings. I also went to see the synagogue, allegedly the oldest one in the western hemisphere - the title claimed by the synagogue in Willemstad of Curacao, which was much prettier, I have to say.
When my short tour around the island was nearing the end, I started thinking if I would come back to Barbados for a longer holiday. And I am not quite sure I would, actually. I did love the nightlife of the St. Lawrence Gap and the beaches of the Crane Bay and the Bottom Bay, though. However, would this be enough not get bored?
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Jan 12, 2006 07:00 PM Barbados - pretty but dull?
Now fully independent, Little England, as Barbados had been known in the past, was one of the Caribbean islands with best tourist infrastructure, beaches and nightlife. If not the best! It was also the safest and with friendliest people.
Well, the locals must have understood some time ago that tourism should be the island's largest income-generating industry and with no production required. Nature and climate were to be the raw materials. So, the people just added friendliness as the key component! And when I visited, the island was nearing perfection as a holiday destination.
I was picked up at the airport by the owner of the property I booked to stay at. I was preparing myself for hardship, like at the other two I booked through the same website, and there it was - a great surprise. The owner told me that he had checked the bookings and decided to collect me from the airport, although I did not ask for it. He knew my name and just waited for me with a sign. He did not know, with which airline I was travelling or where from I was arriving. The only information he had was the estimated time of arrival.
Although my plane was late, he decided to stay at the airport and wait for some more air planes to land, hoping that I could be on one of them. This is what I call quality of service! And exceeding expectations!
Then the guy took me to Oistins village for dinner - an incredibly delicious grilled marlin fish. Then he took me for an after dinner tour in the area, showing me the vicinity and explaining a little about the island. And finally to a supermarket so I could stock up on whatever I needed. What an amazing welcome!
Then, I was shocked even more. I had an entire villa at my disposal complete with patio, fully equipped kitchen, laundry room and satellite television with countless channels from a large television set in the dining-sitting room.
Outside the house I had some local action to observe - overdressed girls flirting with boys, half-naked guys playing domino and poker and low hanging pants lads cruising on small bicycles with tiny wheels. All happening until late at night. It was great!
The island was formed approximately 80 thousand years ago by tectonic uplifts of various coral sediments. It is the only Windward Island of the Caribbean of not volcanic origin. It therefore has only coral-sand beaches, which are almost white.
Bottom Bay was a perfect beach, for example (pictured on the previous page). It was on the Atlantic coast, on the eastern side of the country and hidden from the interior of the island by a giant cliff. When I came, the beach was completely empty and for about half an hour I had the cliff, the pale golden sand, the graceful tall coconut palmtrees, and the refreshing spray from the somewhat angry waves to myself!
Only later, a couple of local guys came with a few seashells and related products for sale. I was surprised that at that time, which was late morning, the beach was almost abandoned. I expected beaches like this be worshipped by white tourists, hungry of sun and lazing on the sand.
Per several guidebooks, the west coast was supposed to have the best beaches, however I liked the Atlantic coast ones much better. They were more secluded, often hidden in a bay, palm-fringed and cosy. Yes, the ocean was a little rougher, but beaching is not swimming, right?
The Caribbean Sea coast had calmer waters but the beachlife was hectic. There were too many people and too many hotels. The beaches had little natural shade (no palm trees) and they often were very narrow. The level of commercialism was excessive and focused only on primitive water sports like water-ski jets, banana rides, etc. Of course, one may prefer that to a more relaxed beaching. I am not a beach person per say, and if I wanted to stay on a beach, I would definitely chose the latter.
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Jan 11, 2006 07:00 PM Martinique - French department with a twist
The island of Martinique remains a colony of France, and is in fact a Department of the republic. Martinique’s official flag is the French flag, although the island flies its own as well. I really liked that!
Originally, I did not plan to go to Martinique on this trip however, as I mentioned in the previous paragraph, due to bad weather on Saint Lucia, I was bored enormously. I could not go hiking, cycling, wandering around, fishing or photographing. Beaches were also not an option, obviously. So, when I found this fast French boat service (L'Express des Îles that connects Saint Lucia, Martinique, Dominica and Guadeloupe), I decided to go. And it was a good decision.
The boats were small catamaran pedestrians-only jet vessels. They had two sitting decks and a small outside area for standing and... taking pictures of course. I heard that the company was planning to buy (or already had) boats with business and economy class cabins or decks. Well, that would significantly increase the comfort and hygiene of the crossings.
The one and half hour trip was very rough. The vessel flew on the waves throwing water on people standing in the smoking area at the back of the ship. The haphazard free falling on large waves made the boat jumped high in the air and kept more sensitive people puking dramatically. And a lot! I have never seen so much puke in my life. Fortunately, the waves were washing almost everything out straight away.
Nevertheless I enjoyed the ride very much. I kept my iPod on and read the guide book figuring out what I should be visiting on the island. I was also quite impressed how fast the boat managed to go on such a rough sea without breaking up.
I did try to step outside, avoid the salty spray, stand on the slippery deck, navigate between the vomit everywhere and take some pictures. The boat was passing by the fair length of the island and the views were rather good. Many passengers thought that I must have been nuts risking those various hazards, just to take a few photographs.
When the ferry docked in the harbour, I found that for my return trip, I had to report one hour before departure. I was not prepared for that. This meant that I only had just over two hours to explore Martinique. That was seriously ridiculous, of course.
Well, I could just relax in the capital city of Fort-de-France for couple of hours. Just wander around the city centre and see the main tourist sites. There were a few, so this appeared feasible.
I came up to a taxi driver and asked him what he would charge me for an hours drive around the city. He surprised me with a very reasonable quote and I immediately agreed.
I told him what I wanted to do on Martinique and why I was there. He then surprised me again by taking me beyond the capital city and actually giving me a tour. Told me stories. Drove me through the posh districts. Showed me view points. It was great.
I was amazed how much Martinique resembled France - the architecture, the cars, the fashion. There was even a not very faithful mini-copy of the Parisian Basilique du Sacré Coeur. It was called the Sacré Coeur Martinique and was located at the foothills of handsome mountains - Pitons du Carbet. It was a miniature, well not a miniature, but significantly smaller version. Well, it looked great with the triangle-cone-like mountains. It was visible from quite a distance. The interior was however totally different.
Then, the taxi took me back to the city. I prompted the guy what I was interested in seeing and the traffic was so bad, that I could jump out of a barely moving vehicle, take my pictures and hop back on. We did not have to park anywhere! It was almost surreal.
I found Fort-de-France an attractive, modern and busy city. It most definitely looked like a French town in southern France, Provence for instance. The architecture of the old district was the same as many older town in France. The shops looked very similar, the windows had shutters, the streets were narrow, the cafes had little tables lined up in the pavements, etc.
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Jan 10, 2006 07:00 PM Saint Lucia - wet wet wet
Sadly, my short escapade to Saint Lucia, an independent island, was an unfortunate disaster. It rained most of the time and the clouds obscured mountain views. Completely! There was no visibility. So, I took remarkably small number of pictures.
Can you imagine my disappointment when setting off from the capital town of Castries, which was cloudy and windy but dry I found myself completely drained at the most important view on the island - of the UNESCO listed Pitons? Ah, not only could I not take out my camera but also there was absolutely no view!
White thick clouds of rain covered the mountains so thoroughly that I was looking at milky mist. I lingered a little at the hyper overpriced restaurant listening to the rain banging on the tin roof and hoping it was going to clear a little. In fact, it did for one minute. Literally for about sixty seconds!Then, rather frantically, I took a few extremely average shots. Like the one above.
Even the polite personnel of the restaurant were quite disappointed to see me this chagrined. I waited over hour and weather did not change a bit! I told the taxi driver to take me back to my hotel area, which was extremely boring. It was located at a hill, north of Castries, the capital of the country.
It was not too far from a marina lined up with restaurants, bars, yacht harbour and a beach. It only took about three quarters of an hour to walk there. I will come back to this in a moment.
As I was travelling on the serpentine coastal road to the famous Pitons, I noted a consistent features of the West Indians. The ladies rather chubby with big bottoms and very fit guys with washboard abs. And yes, I saw a few exceptions from this rule - extremely fit and gorgeous girls and fat funny-looking lads.
I also saw boys with big bananas. Saint Lucia produces a number of different kinds of bananas. I was driving through banana plantations and the lads were standing at the edge of the road inviting all for making business with them. I heard that these bananas were cheap - one US dollar for a bunch. A big bunch. I thought it was a very good deal, despite the fact that I did not really want any bananas. They were good value and I would support the guys’ local business.
Unfortunately I ignored them on the way down and upon my return, when I did want to get some bananas and perhaps take some pictures of Saint Lucians, the guys were gone. Well, it was raining badly so I guess they went hiding.
Then, I met a man with a big snake. I am not sure what snake that was but at least I took a picture. I heard that there were many snakes on Saint Lucia but only two species were dangerously venomous.
I was very pissed off with weather, because when I came back to the hotel the visibility was fine. It was raining every three minutes, but the rain was thin and a marina a few miles away needed no infrared mechanism to be seen. I was standing on an empty roof of the hotel and cursing everything I decided to go down to the marina and have a drink. And throw a nice spicy meal on top of it.
As I was taking some money from a cash machine, a young man approached me and said that he could not help staring at my huge and sexy camera. He actually wanted to buy it off me right there, right then. What a silly man! He approached me after I got my cash... He should have been quicker!
I obviously had to refuse this rather ridiculous proposal. The camera was very well used, and having taken over ten thousand pictures, I just might have got rid of it and get a new one. I did not have a spare camera with me, though, so how would I be able to continue taking pictures for the rest of my holiday? This is what I told him. I needed my camera until the end of my travel. He was still insisting and I had to be firmer refusing.
Nevertheless, I said that I might look into it when I come back home. Or at least I could check shops on Martinique the next day. He gave me his card. It said that he was a photographer.
An ugly sunset was the penultimate thing I did on my first day on Saint Lucia. The last thing was a visit to a Chinese restaurant.
The Reduit Beach, at the other side of the marina, Rodney Bay, was bad. It was too short and too busy with people from two of the posher hotels by the beach. I lingered on the beach and watched how the barely visible sun was going down behind the multiple layers of clouds. I really was just killing time.
I did eventually stepped inside one of the beach bars for a drink, like I promised myself. I had a beer. I did not like it. It was too warm, like in England. I think the bar was English. Whereas Britain is never hot, warm beer does not matter that much to the Britons. In the Caribbean it sometimes gets rather hot and warm beer just does not do it! I definitely did not then.
So, without caring how early it was, I moved back towards the main street of Rodney Bay to grab some food, hoping to get a really cold drink with it.
Sadly, there were no Thai restaurants around the closest to Thai cuisine, I saw Chinese and Indian. I checked the Indian menu and it was terrible. I had two Chinese restaurants as alternative options. I went to the one that branded itself as Hong Kong related.
I ordered cold beer and four different dishes. The waitress could not believe when I ordered them. If I remember well, I had won-ton soup, broccoli in oyster and garlic sauce, Sichuan prawns and curry chicken. The the entire bunch of waitresses could not believe me shoving it all up within twenty five minutes. When I said that I was full and did not want any desert, they believed that.
The very next morning I took a ferry for a day trip to Martinique. The harbour was very primitive and the terminal was rather scary.
I wanted to escape Saint Lucia, because weather was getting on my nerves. The only real option was a day trip to Martinique, as on the same day, I had a flight to Barbados. The French ferry company, L’Express des Îles, which I wanted to take from Dominica to Guadeloupe, for the same reason - rain, ran regular services from Saint Lucia, to Martinique, Dominica and Guadeloupe. The ferries were modern and fast. The crossing was taking about an hour between each island.
The ferry from Martinique back to Saint Lucia was very late. To meet my flight to Barbados I had to negotiate with the immigration officers to let me off the boat first and perhaps before anyone else, or it would take too long. It worked! Then I had to be whisked off to the airport in 5 minutes! It also worked. Adrenaline was good!
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Jan 09, 2006 07:00 PM Dominica - rainbows, dark beaches, isolated places
On my last day in Dominica, I went for a clockwise tour around the island. I made it clear to my driver that I wanted to take nice pictures of Dominica home with me. So, I was stopping very frequently to point my camera at more picturesque landscape or coast.
I allowed him take passengers, who paid a small fee for each ride. Usually it was XCD 1.00 (one East Caribbean dollar) to the next village and additional XCD 1.00 for each village passed. Eventually my minivan with surprising automatic side door became a bus collecting every single soul on the road astonishing everyone with my frequent photo stops.
There was a decent beach with black sand and nasty rapid waves and a few leaning coconut palm trees. And there was a clever guy climbing the palm trees and cutting off the coconuts. I spoke to him briefly and I tried to lift one of the coconut bunches. I managed but realised how heavy they were. The guy earned my respect there! Not only do you have to climb the tall coconut palm tree, but also have to carry this heavy load. That was clearly hard work!
I visited also the Carib Territory on the eastern coast. The Carib are people who originally lived on the islands, after arriving from South America. They were almost completely exterminated by the European invaders, who claimed that Caribs were cannibals. In fact there was no hard evidence of this and it might just have been an excuse for the genocide. Sadly, the Caribs do not have the most brilliant of reputations. Local Dominicans told me that the Caribs were alcoholics, messy and trouble makers. Rumour has it that once they were 'bought' by certain politicians with free rum rallies.
I just had to check the UNESCO listed World Natural Heritage site on Dominica. And I was a little disappointed. I just could not see how it could be unique. I had seen truly unique, priceless and irreplaceable wonders of this planet and I would not say Morne Trois Pitons of Dominica belonged to the same group. I agree it was nice and required protecting but it was just a piece of mountainous jungle, like many pieces of such land across globe in the tropics.
Yes, there were certain natural features within the park which were very special, for instance world's second largest boiling lake, a crater of steaming water, which could boil an egg in three minutes.
The Emerald Pool, which attracted all the vast cruise ship passengers, was extremely small. And overcrowded with too many overweight Americans. I think it was ridiculous.
My driver took me to the northernmost point of the island complete with stunning views of sheer cliffs, the island of Guadeloupe, dramatic islets and a lonely, rusty seventeenth century cannon. It was a superb spot of the island, way off any tourist route. It was beyond a point where the road disappeared. It was under construction many years ago, and then all over sudden the construction stopped. The place was secluded and quite romantic, I guess. The cannon created some mystery as well.
The driver lived nearby and he was raving about the place all day. He said he was bringing his girl-friends there very often, but they were scared of the place due to many snakes, which loved the spot. He did well showing it to me.
Then, he hugely disappointed me by being 40 minutes late next morning, when he was to take me to the airport. He lived about 20 minutes away from my hotel and when I called him at 5.10 a.m., ten minutes after the agreed time, he was in bed. I actually woke him. I seriously feared I might not make it to the airport. My plane was leaving at 6.55 a.m. Check-in was closing at 6.25 and the airport was an hour's drive from my hotel on a hyper winding serpentine road. He turned up at 5.40! My adrenaline level was already topping all possible charts but it was nothing compared with what happened next. He stepped on it and drove like crazy on slippery wet road - still before dawn. I actually made it - 7 minutes before deadline. What a ride!
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Jan 08, 2006 07:00 PM Dominica - wild and beautiful
Another one of the tiny independent island states, Dominica.
The largest of the Windward Islands, Dominica was also the greenest. Already from the airplane I was hit by spectacular views of sheer cliffs and mountains full of countless palm trees sticking out off low hanging clouds. It looked like a dramatic scene from a certain Steven Spielberg‘s motion picture. I knew already that this island was going to be different.
The only difficulty was weather. The low hanging clouds produced frequent showers on the humid sunny days, and it was hard to predict which of the clouds was going to give rain and which one was just passing by. Later, I realised that this phenomenon, which also kept creating multiple rainbows, was more applicable to the northern part of the island.
Well, it rained a lot on Dominica. I guess this was to do with the relatively high mountains, which attracted the clouds. The island claimed to have 365 rivers, one for each day of a year. This actually might be true, since I passed through many of them. Some of them were tiny and were really just streams and not rivers, but who cares?!
It rained briefly several times on my first day with light showers between very hot sunny spells. Then at night I could hear hard rain almost regularly.
Crime, said my driver Bernard, was a serious problem on Dominica. Apparently, there were many thieves, muggers and rapists on the island. I was quite concerned about this information. I was not sure whether I should believe it or not. Well, I could not see a reason why would Bernard lie to me, so I simply accepted the fact.
Roads on Dominica were very bad, which made any short distance escapade a real journey. Plus, the mountains made the tracks winding up and down like a rollercoaster. Many heavy vehicles often got stuck blocking the entire road!
Roseau, the capital town, was rather small and a complete culinary desert! I tried to enter four restaurants and made an impact with my presence. All in vain! I was seriously unimpressed that I could get no service at all! No-one cared at all.
I expected from a capital town to have something to offer to travellers. Roseau had very little. From the architecture point of view, there were few interesting buildings in town and even if they were eye catching, they were all disastrously neglected and left to turn to ruins.
The authorities managed to spend little effort to redevelop a very short stretch of the ferry harbour, where cruise ship losers can get off and browse through a limited number of stores. How sad and artificial!
I stayed at Portsmouth Beach Hotel, right at a black, narrow sandy beach, so close to the ocean that the breaking waves sounded so near like they were smashing against my balcony. This was, after about an hour of irregular smashing, very annoying.
The hotel was fine. Some of the rooms were being renovated, yet lacked character and a homey touch. The walls were painted white and windows had no curtains. Satellite TV was great with many movie channels. I tried the restaurant at the beach as well but I regretted it a little.
I was surprised to see many foreigners around in the northern part of the island. Nowhere else, apart the obvious and UNESCO inscribed Morne Trois Pitons National Park, I saw so many white faces. I later found out that many foreign young people came to Portsmouth to attend the Medical University. Hmm... many American boys and girls chose to migrate from the US and pay for the studies in Dominica.
For people who have never been to Dominica it must sound so cool to get one's Masters in medicine in the Caribbean! Well, Dominica is not paradise, unfortunately. This is bad for the island itself. Unpredictable and frequently wet weather plus a lack of nice beaches means that Dominica usually appears on the bottom of Caribbean holidays choices. This translates to a lack of flow of dollars and rather slow development of the country. The island is, as almost all Antilles, small and one can get very bored with it very quickly. My point is that several years of studying in a very small Third World country does not sound like fun to me...
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