Aloha for now and enjoy!

(All lomo photos by Adrienne C. Wilson. Taken in Mexico over Christmas 2008.)

Looks like Madagascar for me this year. Care to join me? Let’s go! Have you been? Tell me when and if you fancied the place. Everything I have been hearing tells me this one is going to be magical all the way. Minus the extra long journey to get there, but for the lemurs and boabab it will be most worth it.

Over the Christmas holiday weekend my bf treated me to a quick trip to Cancun. I’d never been out of the country for a major holiday and I felt a little guilty not seeing my mum or brother back in Florida, but I can gladly say I had a very enjoyable time. We arrived on Christmas Eve in a partly cloudy Cancun just as the sun was finding way to another part of the world. Rain was in the forecast for the first two days of the trip and when it did rain it didn’t rain for long. The rain did come on Christmas Eve and by the time we made it to the Sens hotel in downtown Cancun we decided to stick around the hotel for the evening.

The Sens was very much what I had expected and more. It was quiet. The pool outdoor was great in addition to the exterior garden and pool area. The permanent art exhibit on the interior was pretty cool. Most of the paintings had a big cat theme, but there were a few others that stood out. The Sens Bed Lounge is also worth noting. We never dined in this area, but it looked very chic and being the sucker for lighting that I am well, it was magically lit. We did have our Xmas Eve dinner at the hotel which a bit more than we initially wanted to shell out – 450.00 pesos ea. My bf was skeptical that he wouldn’t enjoy the meal as the menu was very limited to this very special Xmas fare. On the flip side he enjoyed everything very much while I was feeling ‘mas o menos’ about the whole thing. It included a dinner salad or a pecan crust soup (I went for the soup), shrimp fritters, and turkey or sea bass (I went for the sea bass). I’m leaving out several of the seasoning and sauce details here, but you have an overall idea of what was tasted. The best part was dessert, the champagne, welcome cocktail and one hour of open bar. So we got the most bang out of our pesos.

Our Christmas day was spent lounging at Playa Mirador; a public beach where the waves are muy grande! There not exactly as high as those found on Hawaii’s North Shore, but they were high enough where I wasn’t going to attempt to do any cute wading. Remember, I have minimal swimming skills. Of course I am very embarrassed to say that with all the magical playas I’ve been to across our splendid globe. After four hours at the beach we headed back into downtown Cancun for lunch and back to the hotel to chill and relax. I got a good amount of reading. I’m currently reading Malcolm Gladwell’s “Tipping Point.”

The day after Christmas the whole town woke up from the lazy holy-day and sprung back into life. Tour buses were lining the service road which our hotel was situated off of and businesses were open by the dozens. We took this opportunity to hit the road and head south on highway 370 to Tulum. When planning this trip I had considered driving to the west to peep the ruins of Chichen Itza, but I didn’t want to bog down the short getaway with a lot of driving time and figured the Mayan ruins in Tulum would suffice. They did.

When we arrived it was very obvious we were at a tourist hot spot. Vendors selling handicrafts were shouting from stalls to claim the attention of a tourist with extra pesos to splurge. My bf and I kept our eyes on the prize – getting into the entrance of the ruins. The place was packed and the sun was beastly. It felt as though some ancient Mayan god of heat was welcoming the hordes of people with flames the ancestors. It was hot, okay. When we finally made it though the wall which blocks the interior of the ruins we wandered around catching bits and pieces of information from tour guides with large groups of travelers. We snapped several pictures of the temple of the wind, house of Chultun, and El Castillo (the most prominent building on site).

Once we’d seen the ruins and beautiful Tulum beach we grabbed some yummy Mexican fare at a nearby restaurant. I had arrachera tacos with cactus, guac, and cebollitas. Yum! I finished it off with two glasses of horchata water. The mister went for the fajitas con pollo and once both our tanks were filled we headed back to Cancun. Our roadside attractions included several policia and much military on the road. Not sure if this is due to the recent drug cartel activity, but it was noticeable. We also missed possibly being involved in a car accidents by just minutes. There was a big cloud of dust in the air. Several cars had pulled over and people were jumping out to try to pull out the individual(s) in the car that found its way into the ditch. It was a pretty bad wreck. I hope no one was injured badly.

On the final full day of play we did the day trip to Isla Mujeres. This too proved to be a big tourist attraction. The ferry ride over was approximately 20 minutes. Once dropped off into the islands busy downtown area you’re left to rent a golf cart, moped, or bicycles. I would have preferred the bicycles, but the heat would have killed both of us. After much deliberation we rented the moped and I prayed. When you escape the bustling downtown area the island gets more relaxing and quieter. Oh and by the way the entire island is only five miles long and one mile wide. We explored the Mundaca Hacienda and pondered why there wasn’t better upkeep of this acclaimed attraction mentioned in the guidebook for which the island is named after. The highlight for me were the fish tacos at the Miramar restaurant on the beach / pier. Yummmmy!

That pretty much concludes the holiday vaca in Mexico. It will have to make due until the next vacation which will be who knows when…

Hope your holidays were merry. Did you go anywhere special?

Since I’ve been back home and catching up with friends either on the phone or over dinner everyone has been probing and picking at my brain. What have you been up to? Where have you been? Why did you go there? For work? For play? 2007 has been a colorful year, painted with journeys to the other side of many sides and back. My passport has been stamped and I have learned more about myself than ever before. I was planning on saving these fine highlights of my life for my end of the year blog extravaganza, but I feel as though now is a good time to relive and share.

Why Did I Go To___________ This Year?

Why did I go to St. Lucia this year? I had a week of vacation time from work in March. The original plan was to go to the Dominican Republic and swing through Haiti with my boyfriend at the time. After a series of events starting in as early as January and ending on a very heart-breaking Valentine’s Day, it became clear that I needed to change my vacation plans. QUICK! I no longer wanted to go to the D.R. because my Spanish language skills were not up to par and since I just wanted to get away and enjoy my time off of work still I opted for an English speaking Caribbean destination. I picked St. Lucia and had all my flights re-routed accordingly and changed my hotel reservations all by the morning of February 15th. It was impulsive, but it worked out for the best!

I took off as planned in March for seven days on my own and I had an absolute blast! Not only is St. Lucia beautiful, the people are very hospitable and kind, the food is pretty yummy and it makes for a wonderful place to re-energize. I’d recommend solo travel to St. Lucia for anyone. However, you’ll notice many vacationers are either honeymooning or getting hitched. With the state my heart was in it didn’t bother me at all. In summary I did not plan to go to St. Lucia. If you had asked me last year I would have told you it was no where on my travel radar anytime soon, but I’m glad it fell there. I paid more than a nickel and a dime to go on my own, but it was not outrageously expensive either. I’d go again.

Why did I go to Haiti this year? As noted above I had originally planned to go to Haiti in March while in the D.R. I had done a lot of research, planning, contacting and coordinating to make for a safe and enjoyable time in the country. I didn’t want all that effort to go to waste and so I took off for Memorial Day weekend. For 3.5 days in Haiti the cost of this trip was quite pricey. I flew out of LAX and I had purchased my ticket last minute so I didn’t get a good deal. (There are however, many good deals to Haiti if you look ahead.) I also had to hire a driver and a guide since I don’t speak Kreyol and it isn’t one of the safest countries to go to in the world. The primary purpose was to gain a glimpse of how bad the poverty situation in Port-au-Prince was and to see how life in the sleepy beach town of Jakmel was in comparison. Anyone who knows anything about most places in the world with a bad rep is that there is the good and the bad. Haiti is just that and hopefully will one day rid of the brutally bad images keeping people away. The beach town of Jakmel is magnificent though. It is beautiful. It has a lot of culture and great food. For anyone curious about visiting Haiti you can read my trip reports by clicking here. My only advice – do your research and find someone to show you the ropes. I’d most certainly go again.

Why did I go to Mexico this year? Let me start off by saying I have nothing against Mexico. I love Mexican food. The culture is colorful and the people are delightful. However, my desire to travel and explore Mexico has never been a burning one. If I could spend money traveling I’d see all of the Caribbean and Africa and then hit Mexico and South America, but here is the tale of a young woman duped by love and passion. First off I had another week off from work. I went to Mexico this year because a friend of mine of five years who I had started dating after the horrible break-up earlier this year wanted to go and explore Mexico. He is Mexican – fair enough. I liked him and I was sure it would be great times. WRONG! From those who have followed the blog on and off this year you may recall how short I was on describing Mazatlan and Guadalajara. In fact I let all the pictures do the talking.

The problem with pictures is they say a thousand words and not always the right ones. You couldn’t have paid me earlier to confess that I had been dumped by my boyfriend in Mexico, but looking back I can laugh at it – sort of. Did we get in a major fight? No. Did I see it coming? Of course not. I was blindsided, pissed that I had spent pesos and dollars to fly across the border to get my heart stomped and demolished once more – now in some foreign land that didn’t even tickle my travel fancy. I couldn’t even talk to anyone in English to take my mind off the situation and for the last four days I pretended to be cooler than tossed tamales in the basura. Needless to say this didn’t help convert Mexico into a future destination of choice. I’ll probably never pay to go to Mexico again. I’ll let someone send me on their dollar. Just so I leave you with something nice about Mexico – Mazatlan was pretty and Guadalajara is a big bustling city. Would I go again? No. Not for vacation.

Why did I go to Vancouver B.C., Canada this year? Well I was working in Portland, OR and it was Labor Day weekend. I’d never been to Vancouver, but I had heard several great things about the place. I went with my co-worker for the weekend and had a very good time. Vancouver is a beautiful city and I wish I had more time to check it out. That being said I would most certainly go again for another weekend. Maybe even in ski season.

Why did I go to Ghana this year? Here again is another trip I hadn’t planned in previous months and just happened to go on. I went with my friend, tagging along while he was there for business and sightseeing every chance I could. I went because I had time between looking for new gigs and wanted to make sure I got some travel time in before getting locked into a new position. My pictures and trip details can all still be found below in previous blog entires or by clicking the link above. In short I went because I had both time and spare change. (I won’t say money, because I’m not rolling in the Benji’s here.) Would I go to Ghana again? Absolutely. I’m thinking now that I have a visa good for five years I might be back within the next two years. Maybe even in 2008.

I guess the real reason I felt the need to write this entry was to clarify some points that got left out the first time. I’ve sadly left some people to believe that just because I go on journeys near and far that I am not one to get dumped in foreign lands, food poisoning (didn’t happen this year) or have common problems like everyone else hanging tight on solid ground. I suppose Stevie Wonder’s “Love Light in Flight” would be a great addition to this year’s travel soundtrack.

So why did you go to…. this year? Was it a successful romantic escape? Was it all mucky business travel? Did the company foot the bill? Were you able to finally take that dream trip? Did you tell the boss to screw themselves before booking one to the Cayman Islands? Please share in the comments or leave a link to your travel stories. There’s always a reason behind every trip – what’s yours?

I’m still working on the creative Haiti travel piece for my personal [Adrienne-is] travel page, but I’ve recently completed a six part series at Gadling. I’d say it’s worth much of your attention if you know little about Haiti or even if you think you know a lot. This doesn’t go to say that I’m close to being an expert on the place either — far from it. I’d need to make a few more trips back before getting anywhere close and I’d like to make more trips. There are several beaches in south left to find as well as the north. Anyways, please check out the plugs as I have conveniently left the links below for easy online travel to Haiti.
Haiti Part 1: A Country with a VERY Bad Reputation
Haiti Part 2: Kreyól Cuisine
Haiti Part 3: Hotel Cyvadier & Other Jacmel Hotels
Haiti Part 4: Art & Souvenirs
Haiti Part 5: Festival Mizik Jakmel Update
Haiti Part 6: A Few Last Words

Only one of many photos that chronicle the FOSAJ stencil workshop hosted by Flores McGarrell and attended by Jakmel artists. Photo: Festival Mizik Jakmel

Missed the Festival Mizik Jakmel? Click the link to see more details on Jakmel and the concert. Click the picture to see more pictures from the Festival Mizik Jakmel Flickr photostream.

Enjoy and Bless Up!

Yours Truly,
Adrienne

Sa k pase? Easy? Oui. Just got back from a quick three day trip through the mountainous Caribbean land known by many simply as Haiti. I have many notes still being scrawled on the mind as I write and in some ways I’ll never know if I’ll be able to describe exactly, but for now I’ll tell you this like I’ve told everyone I’ve touched base with by phone. Traveling from Port-au-Prince to the tiny southern beach town known as Jacmel felt like a scene from a movie. In fact it felt like the scene from the movie Contact starring Jodie Foster where she ends up on this beautiful beach after she thought she was going to be shot into space… Know what I’m talking about? It felt like that for me, but I won’t stay short on the details for long. Hang tight and stay tuned. A traveler’s tale and some photos to follow soon.

In the meanwhile let’s brush up on the Kreyòl. You may or may not need it.

It’s not as if Saint Lucia was a bad choice. It was a really good choice. The reality is I’d like to travel to ALL the islands in the Caribbean one day and one day I will, but for now I lead you into the day by day detail of events of my exclusive one woman stay of play in St. Lucia. Envy me if you wish or go out to an island escape of your own…

Day One: The Arrival, Rum, Honey, Lime & the Gros Islet Friday Night Jump Up

“Been a long time since someone make me workup a sweat.” – Chebang

After having my rum just as the doctor order I came back to the room where I fell out moments after capturing me in my first hour on the island – blitzed. Tehe. Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

Sunshine and very warm temperatures blanketed all first impressions of the island upon my arrival on the tiny stretch of runway at the George FL Charles Airport. As a resident of areas in warmer climes one would imagine that 80 degree plus temps beating down on me would leave me with little to sweat about, but working in the brutal and cold New England area for the last four months had obviously taken its toll. Making way through the short-line in air-conditioned customs and scoring a taxi were two pretty easy tasks to tackle and within no time I was zooming off to the Glencastle Resort – my home for the next seven nights.

When I arrived I was greeted by a warm smiling face that had the “We’ve been expecting you” look written all over it which made me wonder what Mister Johnnie Joseph at the Ginger Lily Hotel in Rodney Bay told the folks at Glencastle. Perhaps he juiced up my short-lived sob story to help a sister out and so many thanks go out in his direction for his last minute calls around the island in an attempt to find me affordable last minute accommodation in not only the height of tourist season, but days away from the island’s hosting of the World Cup Cricket games. The smiling front desk face then led me to a room on the second floor in the very far left corner from the stair. Before she opened the door I was already pleasantly pleased. It felt like a secret hideout and beyond the door revealed a room that would prove just fit for my needs over the next few days and nights. My favorite part was the walkout balcony with a view of Gros Islet, Rodney Bay, and the ocean just as the website had promised, though I was only expecting to get a room with a garden view, so again… blessings to Mister Johnnie Joseph.

Taken from the balcony looking out towards Rodney Bay and beyond. Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

The smiling face left me to get settled into my room and as soon as she was out the door I began tearing off the warm attire that got me out of NYC into something much more comfortable and island appropriate. Once my khaki shorts and tee had made their way on I took off for the hotel restaurant. Starving doesn’t come close to defining what all the lack of in-flight meals did to my stomach. I was famished! Okay, I’m lying I wouldn’t really know famished if it slapped me in the eyelid like a boxer pounding on a raw slab of beef tenderloin, but you get the picture. Down at the restaurant and bar I ordered fish, chips, and a salad to nosh on and hold me over for the evening. Considering how late it was in the afternoon for lunch there were very few patrons dining. I decided to sit up at the bar where the waitresses and another guest were lounging.

My attempt to order water to go with my meal failed when the two of them heard my tale of trying to overcome a little cold and instead I was given rum, honey and a twist of lime. Both agreed it would cut any cold/flu nonsense out of the picture. Between each sip of my beverage I exchanged conversation with the other guest who had many pleasant things to say about St. Lucia, but said no other island was as wonderful as Grenada. If I ever had the chance to go I should seize it with the utmost quickness and not walk, but run or skip my way there as it is the most beautiful island of them all. This is according to Mister Clair. He said he was born and raised there and that the best thing about the place was all the honest men and women. Not all were honest he noted, but it could be said that a healthy portion of the population was such. When I told him of my previous plans to go to D.R. without the mention of Haiti, he told me Republicana Dominican was a lovely place too, but never to go to Haiti. Mister Clair said the people of Haiti don’t believe in God and with all their voodoo they could turn me into a goat in my very seat. I didn’t want to tell Mister Clair that his warnings weren’t enough to turn my curiosity the other direction and if it was curiosity that killed the cat in its past lives then I suppose it will be curiosity that turns the kitten into a goat in its next life.

Deborah, the waitress, asked if I would be heading out for the Friday night Jump Up or street party held down the block from the hotel. I confessed that I really wanted to go, but wasn’t sure if it would be suitable for a woman traveling on her own. She kindly invited me to tag along with her and her crazy girlfriend that evening and I happily accepted. My rum & honey, the 82 degree temperature and my day of flying was starting to get the best of me so I excused myself for a little siesta and retreated to my room.

I woke up around seven or eight. My memory fails me now, but I do remember that the rum felt as if it were working and that I would be strong enough to jump up at the party in another three hours. Deborah had to wrap up things at the hotel before we could leave and head to her place for her to change. I was in no hurry. When it was time to take off to her home we walked down from the hotel to the mini-bus/tax stand and waited for the next to scoop us up and carry us off.

By the time we made it to the Jump Up things seemed to have quieted down and though there were quite a few people wandering the streets and vendors cookin’ up all sorts of food the sound man must have packed up his system and cruised back home because there was no roots, rock, reggae or dub to be heard anywhere close. It was a slight disappointment and Deborah and her crazy girlfriend were also on the bummed side, but I knew the night was only beginning for them. I had no clue where it was taking me. We walked past a mixture of tourists and locals laughing and hanging around on the street until we made it to a small club around the corner right next to the water. There were as many people standing about outside as there were inside and come to find out it was more than likely the club entrance fee keeping them from getting in. The music could be heard just fine outside and it was really no biggie (for me at least) to get inside, but after a little waiting my two guides had successfully gotten one of their friends to rub his freshly stamped arm (club entry stamp) onto our wrists so wa-la – we didn’t have to pay. Hey-hey-hey and off went inside.

The interior was like most clubs. Dark for the most part with the exception of the black light glowing from the ceiling and all the girls and guys that purposely tried to wear all white to glow along with it. The music was decent and there were a few people dancing on the floor, but most individuals were bouncing in and out of the club. We followed suit and after two times of going in and out we finally decided it was time to head on over to Rodney Bay. Besides the boys that had accompanied us didn’t get the stamp on their wrist and didn’t want to pay to come in so when they wandered off the girls began looking. Back onto the streets of Grois Islet we finally heard some music being played and found people dancing, but it was too late. Other plans had been made and it was time to head to a new location. Once we found the guys again we took off to Rodney Bay where the scene wasn’t anything out of this world either, but there was music and enough of it to keep me moving and awake for the next couple of hours.

Like most nights spent dancing to sweet island sounds and blends I worked up a nasty sweat – evidence of a good time. When I stopped it wasn’t because I was bloody exhausted or anything, rather I knew I should probably call it a night to avoid getting under the weather again. My dancing guides were not yet ready to depart and there was no reason that the fun should end there for them so I kindly asked her to assist me in finding the closest taxi to carry me away and with that my night ended.

Gallery: Glencastle Resort

Day Two: Rodney Bay Beach

“Gimme da max, gimme da max…” – Israel

Waiting for my hotel shuttle to come and rescue me from the boys on the beach. Photo: Darren

My original plan had been to get in on day one and tighten up my game plan for the rest of the week, but since I went with the flow of things the flow took me out on the town and so I spent sometime on Saturday trying to figure out where and when to go. That being said I didn’t have any solid plans for my second day on the island, but when the beach is right around the way it doesn’t make for a bad escape plan. Still playing it safe I left my swimsuit behind. I packed my sack with my camera and a few other necessities and headed down for breakfast.

Breakfast at the Glencastle Resort is especially nice. The kind waitress, a different girl than the evening before gave me a warm welcome and instructed me on how the breakfast went down. “The coffee is over there… an assortment of teas there… cereal – there…” I placed my order: a fruit plate, two eggs fried hard and toast with raspberry jam. While waiting I watched vacationing, probably honeymooning couples eat and laugh and birds flutter and fly trying to get their breakfast serving as well. When my morning munch arrived I tossed it back and departed from the restaurant to catch the hotel shuttle to the beach.

Rodney Bay beach is your typical tourist filled location; resort style hotels lining the beach, overpriced restaurants and the cleanest clearest ocean water from miles around. I spent most of my afternoon getting acquainted with the soft sand as my toes dug their way through each slow step along the water. I watched children build castles or giggle when the water rushed up and splashed them in their face. All the little ones were having an ultimate fun time in paradise, but so were all the vacationing adults. Couples held each other in the cool water stealing small wet kisses here and there and some simply snorkeled in pairs seeking exotic underwater life. I smiled. I smiled for it was sunny and because I was far, far away from the cold snow and drear. I smiled because happiness surrounded me and love was in the air. I smiled hell because I was happy to be here in St. Lucia. Strolling the beach is relaxing for me.

With my Rebel in tow and new lens I was able to capture typical beach shots like a jet ski left on its own, waves crashing against the shore and the rocky end of the soft sandy stretch. After the walk down and back, clicking picture after picture, the heat made my body demand that I stop to refuel with an ice cold pina colada. The closest beach side bar and restaurant was Spinnakers.

A lonely jet ski at sea. Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

To the left of Rodney Bay beach – the hills or hill. Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

Rocky area of the beach. Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

A beach-goer relaxing in the sun. Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

Before I could make it to the bar I was stopped by one of the local guys who said he had seen me walking up and down the beach and wanted to know if he could join me while I cooled down. Considering how gorgeous his eyes were I smiled my approval. And certainly he tried to charm the pants off of me, but this vacation wasn’t about getting island nookie. I can’t say that I wasn’t guilty of batting my eyes, winking on occasion or tossing my head back in laughter to create the image so often seen in those day dreamy movie scenes with the guy oogling over the beautiful beach beauty. If it is a crime then I suppose I should be deported, but then so should my new parasailing and jet skiing pal who probably hits on at least five tourists a day. However, I don’t know where they’d send him if he were deported.

Not buying the sweet talkers sweet talkin’. Photo: Darren

Anyhow, he was the same age as me, but fairly goofy and yet he could read me like a book. He tried to persuade me to take a ride on his jet ski before my trip end. At first I said “No, I’m cool” several times, but he was insistent and so I gave him a maybe instead. Once there was nothing more than light condensation on the glass of what used to hold a pina colada me and my new island pal headed back out to the beach. By now I was only trying to kill time until the hotel shuttle came and wondering whether my island pal had a customer he should be assisting. He told me he didn’t even though I could have sworn I saw one of his co-workers scowling at him from afar. He ran off for a second leaving me with the two guys that playing cards that help you get a chair and umbrella to rest on when needed. While making small chat with the two another jet ski guy came over to talk. Something told me if I stuck around long enough things could get real interesting and perhaps a beach brawl would occur over which jet ski I should ride, but luckily my hotel shuttle arrived and whisked me away leaving the guys to find another tourist or three to make buddies with.

Rodney Bay through a filter. Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

That evening I skipped out on Saturday night partying to cool it at the hotel. The chef down in the Calabash Bar and Restaurant in the hotel had done a fine job cooking up some BBQ along with some other goodies like some green banana and fish salad, which I am still not sure how to describe its full list of ingredients, but it was delicious. When I had eaten all I could and the chef finally stopped piling my plate with one of everything I headed up for a little reading before drifting off to sleep.

Gallery: Looshan Nibbles & Bits

Day Three: Soufriere Beauty & Bacchanal

“When life hands you lemons – go bananas.” – Adrienne

Checking out the Toraille Waterfall. Photo: Chebang

I’ll describe Soufriere beauty here and you can read about the bacchanal if you choose below. Before I get into either first I must describe where Soufriere is and why it is important to check it out when visiting St. Lucia. As found in the latest issue of Tropical Traveller who states it best:

Soufriere is a fishing town with an intense history – once the French capital and a thriving sugar producing area, then ravished by the French Revolution. Located on the scenic west coast it also harbors many natural wonders such as the Pitons World Heritage Site, two volcanic plugs rising dramatically from the sea’s surface; the Sulphur Spring’s boiling pools of dark mineral laden waters, a constant release of pressure from the molten, subterranean activity…

Okay, so after reading something like that and hearing about it from everyone I somehow felt compelled to venture down south to check it out with my own two. For St. Lucians the 45 min to and hour ride down is considered very long and there are several ways to catch a ride down though some are easier than others or more expensive at that. I first tried booking something with one of the local travel agencies, but going this route was difficult only because they have to have a minimum number of people going to make the trip down and they never had the minimum on the days I wished to go. The next option is to take the local mini buses down which probably would have been the cheapest, but would have required some extra work once landing in the area. This is only due to my not knowing the area and I would have had to hire a car from here anyhow. Third, one can bargain and hire one of the country’s many taxi drivers to carry them down for the day and back. The last option was the one I went with. Actually the kind restaurant staff phoned one of their friends and hired him for me the day before and in the morning he showed up just a wee-bit tardy, but forgiven.

Mister Andy was sort of quiet with a deep thick accent. At times it was hard for me to understand him, but it was mainly due to his talking while looking away from me. Someone had tiefed the radio from the van not too long ago so there wouldn’t be much music on the ride down. The girl from the hotel bar who had taken me out to the Jump Up also worked her way into the trip which was okay by me since the van could seat up to ten or more people, but to my surprise her two Rasta guy friends that had gone dancing with us were also in accompaniment. Good thing too because the older one of the brothers had a little radio which provided the soundtrack for the ride down.

Welcome, welcome! Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

My first request was to stop by one of the banana plantations on the way down. Before leaving on my trip I had spoken to a close friend of mine in Los Angeles who had suddenly picked up agriculture as a new hobby and was hoping to one day grow some banana trees of his own. I thought this was peculiar, but he insisted he’s seen many growing in and around Los Angeles. As a small souvenir I told myself I could at least photograph one or two of them for him. This was the story I had to explain to my companions for the day that raised an eyebrow when I told them I hadn’t seen one myself before and that I needed to get a picture up close and personal of a banana tree. So the first stop was near Marigot Bay where I stole a few shots of the trees lined in a number of rows. I didn’t get as many as I would have liked, but eh… Soufriere isn’t all about seeing bananas – it’s about going bananas.

For Joshua. Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

Our drive took us by numerous fishing villages like Anse la Raye and Canaries. View points for taking pictures were marked at the top of many hills which made for several stops along the way. The beaches in the fishing villages often looked more immaculate than those found in the tourist areas and I found myself a little green with envy that the villagers had that kind of paradise everyday. At least it would seem that way to someone like me just passing through. When we reached the first view point of the Pitons the rain started to come down a bit harder fogging up my picturesque view, but there was a woman name Ms. Mary that made up for what I could not see by letting me in on facts like films that had been filmed there (Pirates of the Caribbean) and when the last volcanic eruption was and the population of the town Soufriere in which the Pitons looked down over. I thanked and wished a blessed day before hopping back into the mini bus to get out of the rain.

My guides snap a quick pict of me at one of the view points. Photo: Deborah Jeremie

Next was a stop at the Sulphur Springs. You could tell when you were approaching because the smell was so potent and Mister Andy said he didn’t buy all that talk about sulphur being real good for the skin and bathing in those tiny natural pools. He said it was a bunch bull. I’ve never bathed in a sulphur pool and I wasn’t going to on this particular day, but I have often fancied various sulphur soap and hair products. I love the tingling sensation the mineral provides. Before going up the hill for a little tour we stop at the gate to get some food. I got some beef on a skewer and when I started pouring the pepper sauce over it I heard someone cough behind me and tell me to take it easy with the sauce. I smiled at the guy and told him I like it HOT! Well, I’ve had some very spicy dishes in the past and the pepper sauce looked familiar too, but by the little bit of choking I did from the first taste revealed it wasn’t so. This gave them a lickle laugh and I too laughed and insisted that I liked things that way – which I truly do.

When we finished up with the food we then drove into the springs for a brief tour and history of the Caribbean’s only drive-in volcano. Our tour guide Saidley, who asked us to call him Lee for short, provided a real quick 411 on the steaming active pools and told us the temperature of the water was something ridiculously hot and that the name of the first pool seen was given so by a guy who got a little too close and got burned very bad to say the least. He told us if we wanted to give it a new name all we had to do was walk on down though he was only joking.

From the volcano we toured two waterfalls in the area. The first was the Toraille Waterfall and the other was the warm Piton waterfall where two of my travel companions bathed beneath and I simply watched from the sidelines. The other one went off somewhere after being told he couldn’t smoke weed down by the falls, but hell I thought you could smoke practically anywhere at the rate they smoked, but even in the islands there are rules. We hung around the pool for a while though. It did seem like a lot of fun bathing in them, but I didn’t bring my swimsuit along and if smoking weed was inappropriate I had a hunch my naked arse splashing and laughing in the pool would not be allowed either.

Hanging ten on a plant – this lizard is too cool for me. Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

Now at this point I’m more than a lickle tired and another meal sounds like a real good idea, but as you’ll find in the St. Lucia Lowlights account below trying to score a combo meal at the Soufriere KFC damn near put a damper on the entire day, but now that I am in the comfort of my room typing all of this I can only laugh and praise God that the day filled of beauty and a teeny bit of bacchanal didn’t get anymore out of control than it could have.

Gallery: People In & Of St. Lucia

Day Four: Another Lazy Beach Day at Rodney Bay

“Your lips are so shiny I can see my beautiful eyes in them.” – Darren

Look! The beach is all mine – with the exception of the two snorkeling folk behind me. Photo: A Nearby Tourist

*Coconut drinks from the fruit man.
*Flipping through the pages of a Chi Running book.
*Listening to some tunes from my iPod.
*Being playful with the boys on the beach.
*Dips in the cool ocean water.
*Conversations with the Rastas.

Does this shot not scream “One Love?” Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

Hmm…Another good day spent on the beach – need I say more? I could, but I’ll keep a little something for myself to giggle about later.

On the walk back from the beach… By the marina. Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

Self-portrait on top of the hotel room. Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

The boys from the Boys Training Center across from the hotel playing soccer. Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

Looking down from my hotel room. Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

Gallery: Naturescapes

Day Five: Spunky, Zeus, & Me

“No pressure, no problem.” – Jason

Zeus and his dark woman of the sea getting ready to head out into the Atlantic waters in Cas-en-Bas. Such a beautiful horse. Photo: Trim’s Staff Member

The morning smelled of honeysuckle flowers. I don’t know what it was exactly since to my knowledge there is no honeysuckle to be found in Saint Lucia, but when I woke I smelled a sweetness which made me rise wearing a silly smile. Perhaps it was some sort of pre-glow thing from the anticipation of trying something new or something you hadn’t done in years so it felt like new.

Today’s agenda was a light one, but one I was really looking forward towards. Late the evening before I had phoned Trim’s Riding Stables to get in on some horseback riding the following day or today. It had been years since I’d been on a horse and I was certain taking part in such an activity would give me a slightly different perspective of St. Lucia. A perspective that could not quite be seen on the speeding mini-buses or local taxis – a natural one. Trim’s had scheduled to pick me up a quarter to 10 am and though a few minutes behind a white van with “Bon Ami” in blue letters came pulling up. I was the last passenger in.

The ride to Trim’s was a short one for me since the stables were right around the corner. Some of my fellow day tour pals had been sitting in the van for about an hour waiting to get to the stables. Their hotels were much farther out and with the road construction they had gotten stuck in the madness. But at the stables everyone relaxed – well to a point I should say.

We were told to stand up in a line so that as the horses were brought out we could be paired with one according to our height. Some were pretty big, tall and they did that thing horses do that I assume is like coughing a whole lot. A whitish-gray one came out and I hoped to Jesus they wouldn’t give me that one. From watching the thoroughbred races with my mother I know that the white looking horses tend to act up when running around the track or blaze past the rest. It wasn’t a thoroughbred, but I didn’t wish to take any chances. Finally, the last horse out was mine and it looked like a match made in heaven.
My horse went by the name of Spunky and was the leader of the pack. He had to be the one in front of all the other horses which was kind of cool and frightening at the same time. I didn’t know whether it meant Spunky couldn’t handle other horses swooshing their tails in his face or what, but I just told myself I’d give him “Good Spunky” praise every step of the way just in case Spunky liked that sort of thing.

Instructions were fairly simple to riding the horses: make sure heels were kept down and toes pointed up, hold the rein close and down not up, but let it give a little, and to turn the horse pull downward on the rein the in the direction you wanted it to go. Basic – right?

We headed out of the stables and down the road until we made it to a trail where we took the horses on a nice nature ride. It was so pleasant, peaceful, and scenic and something I felt I could get very used to. From the trees on the trail we made it to an opening that let out to the Atlantic Ocean side of the island and we rode our horses along the shoreline. I’d never rode a horse on the beach so the moment felt like magic even when my helmet was starting to bother me some. The beach was bare with the exception of a couple of tourists who had discovered it was much quieter than some of the other nearby beaches. We took the horses to the top of the hill where everyone got their photo taken with a nice landscape in the background – mainly water, but some hillside as well. After our glamour shots with our horses it was time to bathe with them.

Yes, you heard me correctly. Our two professional riders and staff from Trims tied all but three horses up while we stripped down into our swim gear and bathing suits. I had to do a quick, “are you really doing this” reality check. Yes – indeed I was and my only reservation about riding a horse half nakie was bugs, ticks, parasites, etc. I prayed there would be no little nibbling critters waiting to take advantage of my bikini clad bod while wading through the cool Atlantic Ocean with my handsome steed. Letting go of those thoughts for the time being I jumped up onto Zeus. Spunky was still tied to the tree and I would have to ride Zeus instead. His name shook me up a little, but he was a beauty and beyond that he seemed to like playing in the water.

Time to go swimming! Photo: Trim’s Staff Member

Zeus and I turned to meet up with the other horses out a little further and as my legs began to go deeper in the water I started to really give into this unique experience. Only one of the Trim’s staff was out in the water, Jason and the horse he rode was named Bob. He told me that if I feel like I was starting to slip off to grab onto the mane real tight. It hurt me to grab the mane. I thought it would hurt Zeus, but when I found myself starting to slip sure enough I started holding tight to the mane. Jason took my reins and made it that Bob galloped faster through the water so Zeus would go faster too. By this point I’m laughing so much my stomach is starting to hurt, but was I having a good time. The water felt so nice and though I knew bouncing around on the horse would later leave me with a sore bum I didn’t want the experience to end though at the same time I did. I’d say we spent at least ten minutes out there bathing if not more.

Heading out to meet the rest. Photo: Trim’s Staff Member

When we came up out of the water I dried myself off and went to check on Spunky who didn’t look so pleased. I have the feeling he was jealous.

Looking a bit on the upset side, Spunky awaits tied to the tree. Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

From the beach we headed back onto the trails where all was pleasant until we came off and had to go past a little bit of construction. Everything seemed okay and I thought I was managing Spunky pretty well until something scared my horse causing it to fling me off onto the concrete in what must have looked like a really bad fall. My right shoe flew off and my camera came crashing down with me too. A good majority of the fall was a blur and in the short time span I only remember thinking two things: Dear Lord, please don’t let the hoof of this horse come down on my chest or head and please let my camera survive this… Thankfully my prayers were heard this time. While everyone was looking wide-eyed with jaws dropped, the first thing I did when I stood up was turn my camera on to see if it were functioning still. After seeing that it came on and nothing looked broken or shattered did I proceed to collect my shoe and shoot a smile everyone’s direction to let them know I was okay. I’ve had much harder falls and I think since I was more worried about my camera it took away the shock of my own body being flung from Spunky. I wasn’t mad at the horse though or scared to get back on. There was still a lot of trail ahead.

Jason checked several times to make sure I was okay and I told him I was gonna be alright. To soothe my soul some he shared stories about all the falls and things the horses he had encountered and how he still loved riding them. I told him the fall off the horse was nothing compared to getting hit by a piece of glass in the Soufriere KFC which was a long story of sorts. He then asked me if I was on my honeymoon which I just laughed about and told him I recently ended all ties with the last guy I was dating on Valentine’s Day. I got this question many times during my stay and so everyone was graced with my story of the lamest man I ever dated, but they found the whole thing entertaining and were full of questions. One of the girls riding behind me told me I was pretty tough and she was happy that after everything I was still all smiles.

But of course!

The ride was pretty much over at this point and before I knew it we were rounding the corner and bringing the horses back into the stables.

My day concluded with a nice late lunch at Castaways and once more a little reading before dozing off into island dream land.

Gallery: Urban & Rural Sights

Day Six: 007 Stylee

“You’ve been watching too many of those passa passa DVD’s.” – Rohan

Soaking up the last few minutes of sun on a sunset cruise. Photo: Rohan

How do I start to describe this day? Let me see. The morning started like all the rest. Sunshine beaming through the small slit in the drapes, birds chirping their calypsos outside my window, a morning shower to freshen up and a delicious breakfast to get me set off on my way. Today I had only two activities on my schedule and I felt as if I was going real James Bond style minus explosives, guns, and well James Bond himself. I’ve never watched a whole lot of James Bond films, but I think I’ve gotten around to seeing enough to make a statement like such.

Mission Number One: See the whole island of Saint Lucia by helicopter.

Another helicopter lands as we take off in our own. Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

Christopher was only three minutes late to pick me up and it wasn’t as though I was timing, he mentioned it himself. I jumped into the back of the minibus and off we zipped down to Castries where I would take off on my second aerial tour in history and my first in St. Lucia. At first I wasn’t too concerned with time. Christopher is known for driving like mad at times and I trusted him in getting me to my appointment in a timely and fashionable manner. But instead getting there was brutal. Traffic was a nightmare. Part of me admired the construction workers hard at work, steady trying to finish the road before the real Cricket madness began, but the other part of me wished they could finish up all their construction on another day or even another week. My driver hooked a right and we zoomed down tiny winding roads in the scenic route that would get me there on time with a hope and a prayer. It didn’t.

I arrived at the St. Lucia Helicopter location five minutes after my scheduled time, but all was still good to go. On this mission there would be two happy couples joining for the ride and the pilot guiding us around. Disappointed that I wouldn’t be getting a seat in the front I made sure to nab a window seat in the back. The younger girl of the two couples tried to rob me of any taking any photos on the mission by suggesting I sit in the back middle, but a staff member from the office shut her up and told her to get on in (Okay – I’m embellishing here – he didn’t shut her up exactly, but you know.) Once everyone was in, buckled up and wearing their headphones the pilot took off.

The wind made things a little shaky at points, but this being my second time on a helicopter and it being a much bigger helicopter I was more prepared than the first time. The girl to my right didn’t look so hot at times. It really wasn’t any of my concern so long as I gathered the intelligence needed for a successful mission. Our chopper cruised the all the resorts and popular beaches. We nearly landed on the Pitons before flying over the lush tropical rain forest. It was incredible seeing all the vegetation there unspoilt by man’s touch and as close as the pilot was flying we almost could have reached out and touched the leaves. Other times I just wandered what animal life existed before on the floor of the rainforest for which I could not see. If this helicopter by some chance were to fail on us and crash and I so happened to survive I wanted to be prepared to fight off whatever snakes or vicious man-eating animals below. That was the 007 Girl in me thinking ahead.

We continued to fly over the sulphur springs and the southern most areas of the island I hadn’t accessed by automobile. We flew over a ton of coastline and secluded sandy and rocky beaches. To round it all up we came back over Castries and saw three cruise ships in town for a day or two. I snapped away trying to photograph as much as I could. I was a bit peeved with the thickness and glare coming from the helicopter glass. If I got at least four good photos from the mission I would be okay, but I would have to wait to find out.

With the few hours to kill between mission and two I had Christopher drop me off close near the hotel by the Marine House Restaurant & Bar where I dined alone collecting data from the area around me. There were only a few other patrons dining at the same time: Two businessmen to my right on the front patio and four individuals to my left dining on the back patio. My positioning in the center patio was perfect as I had a clear view of the bar and could see when my food would be coming. Don’t ask why that is important, but I’ve learned from my male counterparts that having your back to the bar or the door can sometimes prove fatal. I need to see what is going on. I washed my fish and chips down with a cold bottle of Cream Soda – something I can’t get enough of when I’m in the islands. Screw the local brew – I’m all over the Cream Soda.

In my dreams that afternoon I dreamed of a dark handsome island man who would deliver Cream Soda at my every waking call to cool me off from a day spent in the island heat. I woke up to find there wasn’t any extra Cream Soda than I had had at the restaurant, but it was time for mission two.

Mission Number Two: Sunset cruise with the Spirit of Carnival

Preparing to cruise the sea. Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

Christopher wouldn’t be driving me to the start of my next mission. Instead I was told by Thecla Cockrell of Solar Tours & Travel of a vehicle that would come for me at 4 PM sharp. I waited out front of the Glencastle as we had discussed and on the dot a vehicle arrived carrying six other individuals. There were still two others to pick up from the Windjammer Resort. In the front were the driver and his younger handsome companion. In the front row there was an older couple and in the second row a younger couple with the Misses expecting a little one. I had positioned myself in the rear of the vehicle and the last couple that made it in sat in the one-seaters in front of me. From the Windjammer we carried onto the dock were the boat would be awaiting our arrival and sail shortly into the Caribbean Sea.

The boat was a catamaran to be exact. By the time we had arrived many of the other tourists had positioned themselves in the very front and had already made one too many trips to the bar from what I could gather. I found a spot on the left front side of the boat where I stayed seated from the time we set out until we came back (almost). Something told me that we wouldn’t be getting the greatest sunset by the way the clouds were moving over it so I shot a few before the sun became a covered cloudy orangey marshmallow puff. One of the crew members asked if I’d like anything to drink and I asked for the fruity looking drink I saw in a few people’s hands. Turns out it was something called Planter’s Punch which wasn’t too bad. The food came around and I nibbled at a few items. Then Rohan came around and we talked for a good portion of the cruise.

He was a bright handsome guy with a complexion about one or two shades darker than my own. I asked him how he liked his job and he exchanged stories about all the silly questions the tourists always, always seemed to have – like whether it would rain each day. That one really got under his skin. He told me about all the young marriages he saw at the resort. Couples that were only 19 and 20 years of age tied the knot in St. Lucia quite often and he said about 80 percent of the clientele was from the U.S. and many still didn’t know much about the West Indies. He said people in Saint Lucia don’t marry so young. I sat and listened to his tales about his work environment because for one they were interesting and to some extent I could totally relate. I shared with him my stories about what I’d done in St. Lucia so far and what I had hoped to do with my last day on the island. I told him about where I’d been before and playing mas and how I wanted to hit up a passa passa party in JA one of these days. I said I’d like to go donning a lime green wig and so forth and he laughed hard telling me I had been watching too many of those DVD’s.

When night fell the dance floor became just a bit more – hmm… wild. All the Planter’s Punch must have kicked in because there were moves being done that I’d never seen or at least I didn’t really want to see. Hehe. Rohan warned me of this and while I had the feeling it would get wacky I didn’t expect for it to get that wacky. At first sounds from reggae artists like Shaggy and Sean Paul, but the sounds that really put these people in their element were some good old fashioned Elvis tunes and those from the soundtrack “Grease.” When “Summer Lovin’” played I was forced to get up and dance by a 60 some year-old man who had given me a few compliments on my beauty earlier that day. I asked his lady if it were okay to steal one dance and she was delighted. She even got a picture of me and him doing our best “Grease” dance moves.

It was just about time to pull back into the dock and it was just in the nick of time that we did. As we gathered our shoes and headed back to the vehicles it started drizzling – something that wasn’t very apparent earlier, but was quite clear now. It was going to rain the rest of the evening. On the ride back the scene became too much for me. I can’t even bring myself to describe all the details, but I’ll say this: There was a British girl screaming, “I’m not a jackass” in her finest American accent, the guy from Green Bay decided it was okay to start mooning the people in our van and vehicles behind us and the California transplant living in Atlanta started teaching the British girl Redneck jokes. I no longer felt like I was in Saint Lucia or any parts of the West Indies. I felt as if I had entered the twilight zone. Roll playback.

I was the second to be dropped back off at the hotel and so happy for it. I quickly got something to eat from the restaurant and then scurried off to my room so that I could shower and get comfortable for America’s Next Top Model. I have no shame and I’m very guilty of indulging in silly girl model drama, but what better way to finish off a day pretending to be one of Bond’s girls.

Lord help me.

Day Seven: A Reason to Come Back

“I wish I could get to know you better…” Mekonnen

By the end of my stay I had gotten a nice tan and felt much more revitalized! Photo: Adrienne C. Wilson

All day last day plans got changed with my morning mood. I woke up much later than I had wanted. It looked as though it rain and wouldn’t be a good beach day for Pigeon Island and as much as I wanted to get new music from Castries I didn’t want to deal with the construction traffic going in. Instead I opted to stay close by and headed to Rodney Bay Mall for some small souvenir shopping. I had to pick up some rum for a friend of mine I would be staying with during my return to New York and a few colorful island prints for a girlfriend who had requested some for her place in Atlanta. I tried searching for some earrings for my mother (I always get her earrings wherever I go), but instead I just opted for a St. Lucia tee-shirt.

In my short time going around looking for small gifts I talked to a very bright and talented guy in the art shop I purchased the prints from. He listened to me babble and shared the same understanding on a few artsy topics. He showed me some print work he had done for Digicel (one of the local cell phone providers) and handed me a copy to keep in addition to his email address to stay in touch. He was real easy going and actually very nice to chat with. And at the duty free shop I actually learned for the first time what duty free was… It sounds very silly, but I never duty free shopped in all my travels so as the girl looked at me as if I were half stupid I chimed out the details of my flight and gave her my I.D. to save a little dough on my new goods. You learn something new each and every day – it is true.

I had a sweet and spicy tuna salad with a fruit smoothie that day at Café Ole in the Rodney Bay Marina. There was an Aussie there who had asked if I wanted to go sailing that afternoon and I politely declined and told him I had some packing and farewells to do, but he was a little insistent. Perhaps too insistent and so I held my ground. I went back to my hotel as I said I would and turned the TV onto ESPN to watch a little soccer and fell to sleep for a nap.

An hour and a half later I woke up from my lazy state and began to do what I did not want to do – pack. It wasn’t as if I were packing for good and planning on never coming back. There is still so much to do and so much more to tell. I never quite tell these trips the way I’d like to exactly. Sometimes it take a couple trips to get the words just right and to define the people, the sounds of the wind’s breeze and bird chirps to a T, but I’ve made my best attempt now in a short time. If I don’t visit the island again in physical form again soon, I’ll most certainly be revisiting it by pen.

For now I must prepare to head back into my daily grind.

St. Lucia Trip Lowlights

There are only a few things that tend to frighten me on my adventures abroad, but nothing can top being in a very tiny KFC surrounded by several hungry black men and woman awaiting their number fives, crispy zinger wraps or corn-on-the-cob. Now, for some reason I have come to find that the Colonel and his combo meals have taken a strong hold of the hearts and bellies of West Indians across the islands. I first discovered this while standing in one of the largest KFC’s in Port-of-Spain, Trinidad and possibly the world. Waiting in the commotion here was an experience that could give the entire two days of Carnival a run for its money. On the flip side the smallest KFC I thought I’d ever seen was in San Fernando, Trinidad (the country’s second largest city) on my way into La Brea.

That was until I walked into the KFC located in Soufriere, St. Lucia. After an action packed day of dazzling waterfalls, aromatic sulphur smells from the town’s active drive-in volcano including enchanting drives through banana plantations and fishing villages my travel companions/guides thought a quick meal at KFC would do just fine. I didn’t oppose only because it had been a short moment since the Colonel and his delicious chicken sandwiches tangoed on my taste-buds in a feast of fast-food righteousness. Plus, in all my past experiences at KFC’s abroad the chicken was always ten times better than at home so I knew I would be getting gourmet here and not just some greasy mess that would upset my stomach hours later. Well, hours later gourmet was exactly what I got, but not without a headache and a bruise on my leg to take home as a souvenir. The moments that passed in this KFC were just a reminder as to why I can’t quite live overseas as much as I think I can or I’d like to – or maybe it was just a call to never enter a West Indian KFC without my battle gear on.

You might call this “Survival of the Fittest” or “The Herding of the Cows,” but I prefer to call it like I see it –

“Soufriere KFC Bacchanal.”

Upon entering the establishment I was welcomed by the sound of shouting, lots of shouting, and too much shouting. The sounds of raised voices was humming from every corner as beach goers, locals, natives and some of the most barbaric people I ever encountered stood on the chairs and pushed their way to the front of an inexistent line. There were only two registers and only one was being operated by a pretty young girl who looked down only at the customer who had finally made their way to the front and not the herd of hungry individuals looming behind the lucky one. My companion for the day, Deborah, made her way to the front, tugging my arm to follow and stay close right behind her. If I hadn’t who knows what may have happened? After placing her order in what must have been at least six minutes later it was finally my turn to get a number five and six combo meal to-go. (I ordered one for the driver.)

Before I actually got my order in a few things happened:

1. An ugly Coolie looking fellow butted his way past my side and tried ordering a “number tree” and some other items.
2. The guy standing behind me who tried to be a gentleman and stick up for me told the ugly looking Coolie guy that I was first and that he had also cut a few other people. During the protection process I could have sworn I felt his pelvic area just a bit too close for comfort, but looking back only made matters worse. The small yet large drooling crowd pressing up behind him allowed me to give him the benefit of a doubt. Everyone was pushing their way to the one-(wo)manned register.
3. The ugly looking cat continues to insist on being first though he clearly just walked in the building and with a prayer I finally got my receipt to wait in the line of hungrier waiting folk. Great.

I took a breath of relief after making through the intro only to find the second act got just a bit more intense. Deborah took my receipt and volunteered to wait up front for both of the orders while I tried to find refuge somewhere behind. In the meanwhile some monkey of a person knocks over the entire glass panel one of the little seat divider things and it comes falling down, slides and hits me right above my left ankle. Without any apology the fool picks up the glass panel that didn’t shatter and took no victims other than my leg and carefully places it back into its position. Everything from here on becomes a blur as I try to refrain from using my own Sailor’s Patois. The gentleman who had been protecting me from the beastly Coolie fellow had made his way over to my waiting spot and tries a round of conversation at why he thinks all this madness is occurring. All along I’m thinking, “Dude, I nearly lost my life to a freakin’ glass panel and if it were America, I might just be on the verge of filing a lawsuit,” yet he continued to press on talking about how the menu made no sense. Of course it made no sense and where was the management?

Since it seemed I was going no where fast I decided to whip out the camera and film some of the bacchanal, though the stormiest parts had already passed. Actually, after I took the 31 second video from my Kodak camera I thought about how much of a wimp I was… Many will watch and think I’m on rocks or being a priss, but please believe me when I say it was beyond crazy. To all the travelers who have had their rounds in a Nairobi train station or a bazaar in Bombay, I am almost sure you are laughing and I am fine with that. However, in all of my time spent in St. Lucia getting a very large piece of glass flung down at my leg was not pleasant and for that I have to place this in the lowlight area. As you watch this very short video take note of a few things:

1. The ugly coolie looking guy that cut in front of me watching as I record.
2. The guy against the restaurant divider watching the arse of a happy customer as she escapes the Colonel’s chicken fortress and then watch as he turns his head to check out the front side of another individual not quite visible.
3. The lack of a line formation.
4. The raised arm and voice of the guy who just moments earlier was the same moron that caused the glass to hit my leg.

In the end the crispy zinger combo I ordered for my own was quite appetizing and way better than those found at the KFC’s across the U.S. And to bring a brighter positive side to this tropical lowlight – at least I didn’t lose the entire leg.

***All photos taken by Adrienne C. Wilson unless pictured or otherwise noted.***

“Time has no mercy on the ambitious for there is never enough of it and favors for the lazy who never does enough with it.” Adrienne C. Wilson

I’m sitting here and it is a little after midnight now on March 14. “Sacrifice” by the Roots is playing, a floral smelling candle burns on top of the television and the Mary in lights is glowing as radiant as ever. I’ve just taken down my second cup of Theraflu since I’ve been back home and I wonder why no one else seems to enjoy the taste as much as I do. Could something be wrong with my taste-buds? My eyes are red and I am still experiencing an incredible amount of post-carnival sun burn skin shedding. I feel like a reptile to say the least, but I’d do it ten times over for all the fun I had.

So Trinidad? It’s going to be hard summarizing three works of bacchanal and relaxation into one blog so I won’t even try. I should have done a better job blogging here on my personal site, but between gadling and time out and around town I’m sure you can forgive me. If you’re dying to know anything and everything I’ve written on the country, please pay a visit to Gadling. I promise updates galore including pictures. Now with my breathy apology out the way – where was I?

So Trinidad this second time around was absolutely phenomenal. Nothing short from stellar. (Did I say that right? Oh, who cares.) I eased into my first week adjusting to the climate, humidity, heat, and busy streets of Port-of-Spain. Dotun gave Merlana the impression that I was this foaming party animal waiting to peel the floorboards off with non-stop dancing, but such is not the case. I like to party and when I do I really get down, but I’m not the type to fete every night. With that being said my trip was an amazing mixture of several things Trinidad has to offer. This is going to be a very cruddy run down on how things went, but I hope you’ll understand.

Who could it be?

February 14 – Valentine’s Day. Met Dotun at the airport and headed to Mt. Hope Hospital to see Alicia and her grandmother. Departed and went to Valsyn for some food. Had my first Apple J and my heart skipped a beat. Later Dotun dropped me off at his house in D’abidie and left for lectures. I fell out for the rest of the evening.

February 15 – Quiet day for the most part, wild night at Zen. First day of dancing and Soca music. Destra graced the stage and the crowd went berserk. Out of all the countries I’ve ever been the energy in Trinidad during Carnival is unrivaled. Benesia, Dotun, Nnamdi and myself have a great time.

February 16 – Another quiet day. Woke up late due to the late night and worked on some writing. Later hung out with Lily and walked around the Savannah for exercise.

February 17 – First day meeting Merlana and her mother. We took off to the Little Carib Theatre where we saw 3 Canal’s Vibes It Up show. Nice introduction to Rapso for myself though I enjoy and prefer Calypso much more.

February 18 – Darryl and I meet for the first time off Independence Square. After he tells me I stick out like a sore thumb we take off to Long Circular Mall for some lunch. We are accompanied by his rather pleasant brother, Denzel and later proceed to Crobar. (Apparently Crobar is pretty popular.) Since it was very early there were only a few people hanging out at Crobar. We shared stories and conversation over a few drinks and departed so I could prepare for my first taste of Machal Montano at the Alternative Concepts 4 concert. For some reason I was pretty sleepy, but lasted through the entire LONG concert featuring, Minmi, Wyclef, Allison Hinds, Patrice Roberts, Surge, Mr. Vegas, and so many others it’s hard to remember. I had a great time, but was happy to make it home to bed. (Am I too old for such madness – of course not.)

Darryl, Me and Denzel pose in front of a J’oyvert poster ar Crobar.

Myself and Denzel.

Darryl and Myself.

Alternative Concepts 4 Concert.

February 19 – Took off for the Vie la Coupe festival down the road from Lily’s place and hung out there by myself and enjoying the production. The annual Vie la Coupe is a showcase of traditional Carnival costumes and performers. I missed a few of the earlier sets but found much pleasure in the Minstrels, Midnight Robber, and Blue Devils or Jab Jab’s who found it quite delightful in tormenting the crowd for a few TT dollars. After they spewed their fake blood onto my pants and top and after soaking in a little traditional stick fighting or Calinda I took off to prepare for the Calypso musical later that evening.

Speakers. Enough said.

The Minstrels make their way down the grassy field.

The Midnight Robber with his creepy coffin.

Stick fighting.

Once again Merlana and her mother picked me up for the Brand New Lucky Diamond Horseshoe Club Calypso musical. The music in the show was great, but the story threw me off a little and Merlana was very disappointed with David Rudder’s work. I admit, it certainly wasn’t what I expected, but fun all the same. The show was held at Queen’s Hall which is also located down the hill from Lily and a nice venue to see shows and such.

February 20 & 21 – I believe both of these days were spent lounging around the house. Tuesday I found out I got the job and wanted to go out and celebrate, but decided against it. I wasn’t feeling all that hot and decided relaxing wasn’t a bad alternative to running around the streets in a short mini wining on some strange chap. Oh wait I also got my costume for Poison and was very happy and excited about the approach Carnival days.

My costume in the box.

February 22 – Wednesday was spent playing tourist with Dotun around POS. I really wanted to nab some street shots and city shots since I failed to do so last time. Dotun was quite a sport and walked from City Gate to Cascade with me and people shot odd glances our way from me and my intrusive camera. Quite satisfied with the photos we wrapped things up and stayed in for the evening.

Fruit Stand.

Yellow car rolling down the POS streets.

Stands to grab a bite to eat line the Savannah during Carnival.

Piling on the pepper. Yummy Goat Roti!

Then there was nothing.

February 23 – Partying picks up again that night. Merlana takes me a to an awesome pan lime. We bounced from the pan yards of the Desperadoes, All Stars, Renegades, and the last band I do not remember because they had finished up by the time we arrived. While there was nothing more than a bunch of folks gobbling down cups of hot corn soup at the last venue the previous three were busy practicing for Panorama finals. It was probably one of the most rewarding parts of the trip seeing the Pan players in action as I have been attached to this instrument over the last few years.

Renegades Pan Yard.

Desperados Pan Yard.

After the pan lime we headed to UWI Splash fete in Chaguramas. Splash is exactly what we got. It rained or drizzled let me say and I still danced quite a bit. Merlana was low-key since her phone got stolen that night and I felt horrible, but things worked out later on in terms of getting anew one even if all the numbers in the old one were lost. UWI Splash overall was a rough fete, but a fun one at the same time.

February 24 - Carnival Friday!!!! Met with Darryl and ended up hanging out at the National Library where he shared stories of TnT’s folklore which he believes is true, but sounds crazy to me. I mean we’re talking about demonic balls of fire folks. It was interesting to know though. After we hung around inside waiting for the rain to pass we stuck around outside the library to watch the kids do their thing in the kiddie Carnival taking place. If I’m not mistaken they were secondary kids competing for best band for their schools. We moved on and departed ways to prepare for our fetes that evening.

Exhibit in library.

Bright yellows walking and dancing their way through the street.

Black Indians make way!

Beautiful girls in Red.

Oh Sailors!

Island People’s Girl Power was the name of the game for the evening and it was one of the nicer fetes I had been to since arriving. The highlights for this evening – Denise Saucy Belfon though she wasn’t on stage long and Shurwayne Winchester. I really love his stage presence in addition to his music. This was the first fete I had been to where he performed so I was tickled pink. Met cool folks from Bermuda and spent the evening dancing away with one nice guy in particular.

February 25 – Carnival Saturday. Would you believe it if I told you I worked on Carnival Saturday? Yes, folks I tell you no lie. I was getting behind and felt horrible. No fetes that night, but I was productive else wise. I’m a workaholic I know.

My office away from home.

February 26 – Carnival Sunday. Met with the girls and headed to Moka somewhere in Maraval. This was a great all-inclusive where I met Karen, the blogger over at Blogging Baby and her party. I stuck close to Merlana, Alicia, and Carla and the mosquitoes clung tight to me. Aside form the new bites I had another great time at this fete.

February 27 – Early Carnival Monday. My morning started early and when I say early I mean 2:45AM. Rum and coke in hand (not my idea) by 3:30 AM and body paint smeared all over. The occasion J’ouvert (pronounced joo-vay). An event which means “opening of the day” where revelers use paint, mud or oil to dress themselves and jump up with a band from 3 AM until dawn. Karen told us ahead of time if you didn’t have enough paint on you people would see to it by making sure you did by the time you got back home. This girl splashed blue paint all across my face, in my hair and some even made it into my mouth and I already had a considerable amount on at the time. Needless to say when we were trying to get back to the car so I could wash up for Monday morning Mas going through the different convoys was pretty scary. You didn’t know if they were going to have mud or some outrageous puke green color. Not that the color of the paint really matter. The best part of J’ouvert is anything goes and it’s less about a fashion statement. With that being said…

Face paint.

Last shot before I wash up!

Monday morning Mas kicked off with me waiting at the Savannah for Merlana and Aaliyah to show up. (Darn Trini’s never on time – tehe). Once they arrived we hustled to catch up with the band who had already hit the road. The time was about 11 AM at this point. Once we reached the band we got our all-inclusive wrist bands, some drinks, and feel in line with the music. Considering I had been up quite early I felt great and lasted all day in the blistering heat. There’s something about that music that just fuels me to keep on pushing and moving. In the back of my mind I knew I would be a hot mess by the same time Tuesday afternoon, but I figured I’d worry about that later.

This year was the last year for the stage in the Savannah which seems to have been causing quite a stir from past revelers, but it being my first Carnival I just went with things as they were, living only in the present. Now I think I failed to mention this earlier, but I played with a section in Poison called Ricco Soldato. Poison is a band with about 3,000 people and one of the largest. So when it’s time to cross the stage the judges will do just about anything to keep us moving and herd us off. For Monday it was a little odd that when we crossed the stage I could barely hear the music, but at the same time this is where we are supposed to give it our all. (There are judging point throughout the city and the stage is the final one. Bands compete to win Band of the Year, but most revelers typically could care less as they have been drinking all day long.)

When we finally made way across the stage our next task was figuring out how to get me back home since we didn’t plan accordingly beforehand. Merlana being the sneaky and clever thing she is spotted a cop car and ran up to them tellin’ a sweet story to get me a ride home. She ran back to me and told me she told them I wasn’t feeling too swell and they would take me home. Once I was in the cops were very friendly. Could it have been my accent? By the time I was out I knew first middle and last names, birth dates and astrological signs. I wonder if the local gyals get the same treatment?

I got home around 8:30 PM. Fell out in bed.

February 28 – Carnival Tuesday. Woke up thinking the day was starting much too early. I felt sore. I woke at 4:45 AM to prepare and get dolled up for the full day of Carnival. Tuesday is the day everyone wears all their attire, including their headpiece. Monday was the day to have all-out fun and Tuesday becomes the big show day. Getting back down to the Queen’s Park Oval was another little task. Merlana arranged another shady ride with an older gent who was quite unattractive in comparison to the police who basically took advantage of my not having change and took my $100 TT. The ride was only supposed to cost me $60 TT and he didn’t even drop me off exactly where I needed to be, but I was okay hoping out the car earlier than planned. No more Merlana suggested rides.

On my walk down I noticed Karen her husband and the others I had played J’ouvert with in their lovely Carnival attire from Tribe. They were red fiery coral and had large amounts of feathers shooting from their backs. The red was a rich color and popped out tremendously. (Overall – Tribe had great costumes.) I quickly took some pictures of them in their gear and kept it moving to get to the Oval.

I got their a little early (7:15 AM) as usual and waited sometime for Merlana and Aaliyah to show. The band ended up hitting the road before they showed up and I followed along. When they finally arrived and caught up Merlana informed me that the President of the country was playing in our section because his daughter was part of the committee. She asked if we could get some pictures with the President and surely we did. Pretty awesome considering I haven’t even met my own President – and do I really want to? LOL.

Taking advantage of the mornings cooler temperatures I danced quite a bit and paced myself better when things started heating up. Merlana noted Tuesday Mas was going smoother than any she had seen before, but she spoke far too soon time would later reveal. Alicia and her brother Carlos found me and walked with me for a little bit until I decided to catch up with the rest of my section. Good thing she found me there too because our band ended up going through St. James which wasn’t apart of the route we were supposed to take and made a few folks very unhappy. I didn’t really know what was going on, but I did know the heat showed no mercy and neither did the $14 Spaldings I had purchased from Payless before coming. My feet were burning, but I knew the shoes would get tossed as soon as all was said done.

When we finally made it close to the Savannah (around 6 PM) I felt alive again. We were almost done and ready to cross the stage for the last time, until they announced Island Event’s would be passing us up because they got in the middle of our band somehow during the last legs of road march! What! No!!!! LOL. I was so ready and think all the others were too, but we had to wait. Security must have been taking a lime around this time because a few non-Masqueraders started finding their way in and trying to take wines from the sweet lookin’ gyals in costume. I took pictures with tourist and posed for shots that would probably become apart of someone’s scrapbook in God knows where. Germany maybe?

I started to come irritable the darker it got, but did my best to keep my spirits up. Some young boys made their way in and I gave one a wine and then the whole group started lookin’ for one. Well I didn’t have that much energy so I had to refuse – sorry boys. Then the section behind us was crazy and wouldn’t remain in their own section. They were rowdy and things just got crazier and crazier it seemed. The stage was so close, yet so far. I even debating just heading back to the house instead of crossing. I knew what the experience was like I thought. Did I really need to cross? Yes, of course. To save a long story filled with bacchanalia I’ll say this – we crossed the stage somewhere around 8:30 PM and I made it home around 10:30 PM. Carnival was officially over for me.

It’s show time!

Me in my full costume gear.

Another shot!

One from the side.

Hi Mom!!!

I crashed so hard that evening from the incredible amount of sun I soaked in, the food and the physical activity. I was worn out. I was dying to take my extensions out my hair, but common and practical sense made me wait till the next morning. It was time to sleep.

March 1 – Ash Wednesday a.k.a Day of Recovery. I did nothing outside of spending hours tending to my hair and picking up an item down at the Savannah. I was beat and while the rest were planning on Zen that night I was planning on peaceful dreams in my bed. There was just no way. Plus I had work to do.

March 2 – Dotun’s Birthday. After my state of full exhaustion the previous day I decided to do a little work online. Gadling actually did some pretty cool features for AOL which everyone should check out if planning vacation to Hawaii or the Caribbean. I say this not because I wrote the beautiful pieces, but because you should honestly check them out. Duh! Darryl swung by that afternoon to drop off some items on Tobago for my weekend trip over. Soon after he showed up Uche, Dotun, Tayo, and Ade showed up as well. Dotun said he wasn’t going to make it over earlier, but I guess things had changed and he came with his posse. It was his birthday so Lily and Ade ran to get some Middle Eastern food, ice cream and snacks. We threw down on gyros, salad, rice and chips. Later we debated on whether the salad was peppery or spicy. So silly I won’t splurge or waste time here stating all the details, but let’s just say it was PEPPERY for the record. I win. hehehehe.

March 3 – Time for Tobago. Finally all this talk about Tobago and the day arrived. Dotun and Ade picked me up at Lily’s to head down to the Port for the ferry where we would meet Merlana, Jackie and Monifa to join us. I opted not to take my laptop on the trip because I didn’t want to even think about doing work. Good thing too. The ferry ride was about 2 1/2 hours long and gave me a headache so I was happy to see landfall again. We grabbed our rental car and made way to Merlana’s uncles place in Bacolet. The house was huge and had an incredible view of the water. For the first time I felt like I were on vacation.

That day we ended up taking trips to Speyside and Charlotteville beaches. Both were pleasant, quiet and relaxing places to be. The water wasn’t the crystal clear blue kind I had imagined, but I was promised I’d see such in Buccoo the next day for sure. That evening everyone when out to a fete and I decided to stay in and sleep. As you can probably gather I am one all for my bed rest.

Me, Jackie, Merlana, and Monifa at Speyside.

Merlana, Monifa, Dotun and Jackie at Speyside.

Jackie, Merlana, Me and Monifa at Charlotteville Beach.

My solo shot on the beach, but where is my butt? LOL.

March 4 – Everyone woke up late from being out so late and I was bright-eyed and busy-tailed. I wanted to see some water!!! Once everyone brushed their teeth and woke up we headed down to Buccco were we would take the glass-bottom boat tour to snorkel and exfoliate in the Nylon pool. Merlana stayed behind this time working at the house for an exam she had coming up, but the rest of us were on board of our tour boat for the day – Miss Ayanna!

On the first stop everyone got out the boat except me and a few other people. I’m not into skin diving much seeing I’m not a strong swimmer, but promised to get out at the next stop. When the boat cruised the waters we saw all kinds of coral and vibrant fish swimming in their underwater worlds. The sea-grass creeps keep out for some reason and to my luck I would have to walk in some at the next stop in the Nylon Pool. Ick! Nylon Pool was great. The water was as clear as that found in swimming pools and the sand was so soft the tour guides scrubbed our backs and gave facials. I enjoyed the pampering tremendously. Everyone on the tour was having such a great time we stayed a while longer in the pool while some folks on the boat decided to become tribute bands for all the popular Soca artists. They were having the time of times and making all of us laugh and sing along.

The ultra clear Nylon Pool.

Once our tour ended we rounded up some food and had lunch. Monifa needed to get back to the Port to catch her ferry back over so she washed up quickly and we took her straight from Buccoo to the Port. The rest of the day Dotun opted to stay in and Merlana, Jackie and myself went to Fort King George and to see Jackie’s God Father in Mt. Pleasant.

The view at Fort King George.

March 5 – Last day in Tobago and I was so sad to go. It was so different from Trinidad in so many aspects. Quiet, cozy and much cleaner. Dotun and his poor planning had him back on board the ferry first thing that morning leaving us to later lug his things around until we made it back. In the meantime the three of us left went hunting for breakfast (quite the challenge) and made one last beach stop before getting back onto the ferry to Trinidad. So long Tobago!

Sunrise in Tobago.

March 6 – Spent the day picking up souvenirs for family and friends and meeting new folks. Everyone in the shops I had met were very friendly so I paid visits and purchased goodies like earrings, postcards, key chains, etc. The majority of my shopping was done in POS when I waited for my pictures to be processed. That was basically it for that day.

March 7 – Lici told me she would have to carry me south to La Brea so her father could meet me and her mum could feed me so we had planned on Tuesday as being a good day. When we made it down her mom had all kinds of food awaiting me. Curried goat, beef, chicken, paratha roti, pepper mango, mango chutney, peppered plums, curried potatoes and channa. Breakfast large too with delicious bake and salt fish, poulori, and mango chutney as well. Needless to say she sent me packing with lots of yummy items to bring back to the states. Lici certainly wasn’t kidding – that’s for sure. My encounter with her father was brief, but he was very nice and asked about my time in the country and how I enjoyed Mas. Her brother, Carlos surely a cutie and the playful type hung around poking at me. The three blind dogs picked up on my accent and one (Cookie Monster) wouldn’t stop barking to save my life. LOL. I thought I’d better keep my chatter to a minimum or develop an accent quick! Overall I had a blast South and came back knowing how to cook poulori. How about that?

March 8 – Limed with Alicia all day and went to St. Augustine where she works and stays. First we swung by her sister Alana’s place and then I napped while she did some much needed work after playing hooky with me for so long. Kyron, the nice young man and close friend of Alicia’s I had met the previous day in La Brea came up so we could all hang out for a little while. We grabbed Alana and Abby and took off for the beach. Traffic made things so bad though that we didn’t get their till dark and due to the last minute planning we turned and went to Movietown right after. After having some soft serve ice cream and desserts we decided it was time to part and for me to get back home. They dropped me off in Cascade and we said out goodbye and until next times.

March 9 – My last day in Trinidad. Darryl and I had been planning on going to the Zoo for sometime, but it rained every day we wanted to so we made it happen on my last day. (It ended up raining that day too.) We kicked it all day long and after the zoo ran a few errands in POS, picked up the groceries so I could cook and went back to Cascade. I promised to cook taco’s and my usual fare for Lily and Dotun before I left the country and waited until the last day to do it in case they didn’t like the food or got sick afterwards…haahahaha. Kidding about the sick part. Honestly it was the only time I had or felt like being in the kitchen. It was hard though making the meal perfect because Trinidad doesn’t carry a lot of the items I would need to make my dishes right. The safron rice came out a little bland, but the chicken tacos were highly delicious. Compliments to me the chef!!

After Darryl had left and Dotun and Uche ate some of what was left I continued with my packing. Slowly, but surely. I really didn’t want to go, but my days were numbered, my three weeks to an end and it was time to face reality. Boo-hoo. Dotun carried me back to D’abidie where I would sleep my last night since it was closer to the airport. My flight was early so it was the bets decision in the case of beating traffic. I slept on and off that night.

March 10 – A day full of travel with a stop in San Juan, P.R. I stayed in for my four plus hour layover and finished reading the book my mother had gotten me for Christmas. I figured I’d need the motivation. The book is called the Traveler’s Gift and I recommend everyone read it during their travels be it near or far from home.

March 11 – Back on the grind.

So I lied. I did summarize for the entire trip. It may not have been the best, but you have an idea of how all went down. Or most – hehehehe. Obviously I did this in two sittings, but for those who are near and in town come see me. Let us snack on some khurma and perhaps some pineapple chow and share stories. Yours and mine.

Hasta,
Adrienne

Ice cold brews over conversation at Crobar. Darryl’s not mine. I opted for the Smirnoff Ice.

Scary Blue Devils from the Vie la Coupe festival. Watch out they spit fake blood and though it doesn’t stain it’s quite tough to get out.

After a few days of rain the sun bounces playfully off Lily’s chain fence and the hills in the background.

Seen all around the country, I found this sign to be rather comical. Not sure what promotion it was apart of.

Shops lined around the Savannah awaiting tourists to come in and by souvenirs. I purchased a summer bag and local earrings from the vendor pictured.

One of my favorite shots taken at the Kiddie Carnival in Port-of-Spain.

At the Desperadoes Pan yard during the pan lime. A bass pannist plays making for the rich sounds in the orchestra.

A business off the road in Tobago.

My first beach in Tobago at Speyside.

A must see site for anyone heading to sister island, Tobago, is Buccoo Reef. Take a dip in the nylon Pool to exfoliate on your glass-bottom boat tour.