Monday, 18 February 2019

Eating Carriacou

Carriacou brings new meaning to the word ‘local’. It has a population of less than 10,000 people, mostly concentrated in Hillsborough. We headed down there to buy food for breakfast and lunches. As we food shopped, every store we went in had employees glued to the radio, although, try as I might I couldn’t make out what they were listening to – it was obviously a sports event. Eventually, I asked a girl at the supermarket checkout: “What’s the big game?”

Caught up in the Parade
“Oh, it’s the High School Football match.” There are two high schools on the island and each year they play against one another. 
But, I hadn’t realized how big it was until I tried to drive through the town the next day. The streets were blocked as every high school kid on the island thronged behind large pickups blasting music as the winners held up their trophy. The whole town was gridlocked for a couple of hours – it was hard not to get caught up in the enthusiasm.

There are three supermarkets in the town but they seemed to be stocked mostly with canned or frozen food and alcohol. But, I was surprised that there was no bread or fresh fruit & veg. It took us a couple of days to realize that fresh produce was sold at stalls in the streets – I had to get used to the one-way streets before I found them!

Conch Shells
Of course, Hillsborough is a haven for visiting sailors and we soon discovered Patty’s Deli where they get their provisions – fresh bread, cold cuts/sliced meats, cheese, and wine. And, they do a mean cappuccino too – it became a morning go to!
So, we were well set for breakfast with fresh eggs, mango and papaya from the street stalls and lunch with bread, ham, and cheese from Patty’s. That left our evening meals…

All around the island you see conch shells washed up on the shore. But, it turns out that they are more than just a device to listen to the waves. In Grenada they eat the flesh – it’s on the menu as ‘lambi’.

Bogles Roundhouse
Given the size of Carriacou, you’d think that a good restaurant would be hard to find. I thought I’d found one worthy of our Wedding Anniversary – Bogles Roundhouse – and we drove there to eat and book a table for our evening. The restaurant was some distance north of our villa in a small village and I drove slowly, no honestly, along a narrow road to find the entrance. Still, I missed it and had to turn around. Then, I saw the tiny sign pointing down an even tighter laneway; as I turned down it, the road dropped away almost scraping the bottom of the vehicle.

Dinner in Bogles
Set on a cliff above the shore, Bogles really is a round house with round glassless windows, each one unique and the food was exquisite – we started with shrimp, octopus and lambi, of course, with dipping sauces, then Carol had Spiny Lobster and I had Rack of Lamb – I could have eaten there every night. That said, we couldn’t eat there on our anniversary, it was closed on that day, a Sunday.

Relaxing in Off-the-Hook
On our actual anniversary, we ate in the Hard Wood on Paradise Beach, a hang-out for the locals. The Hard Wood is a bar on the beach that on first glance reminds me of an old picnic shelter from the beaches where I grew up. But the fish with mac & cheese that we shared was yummy! And, then we walked along the sand to ‘Off the Hook’, the rambling beach bar where visitors hang out. The sun set over the water as we strolled. Back at our patio, it was the darkest, quietest night we’d experienced; they take Sunday seriously here!  And, in case you were wondering, it was our 46th Anniversary...

Sunset on Paradise Beach

Friday, 1 February 2019

The Driving Lesson

Grenada is a modest country. Driving is rudimentary and, like so much of the Caribbean, it follows the British régime – driving on the left, and lots of roundabouts – I was in my element. You see few traffic lights but there are roundabouts, even on simple T-Junctions; there’s not much room at these junctions so, often, it’s just a pile of tires. And, on major intersections, in order to ensure that drivers slow down, they simply put a large speed bump a few feet back from the junction on all the approaches – simple but effective. On our drive to the ferry, many motorists beeped at us as we drove along. I asked our driver; 'What’s with all the beeping?'
'Oh, they’re just saying Hi!'
Roundabouts

Perhaps the most endearing local feature, we saw again and again, is the human signpost. It seemed that every time we might go wrong, there was someone there to guide us; often before we knew we needed help … 
Driving south on the main island western coast road we encountered a bridge that was closed; a Diversion sign told us to turn inland. I turned left and headed down a road, looking for the next sign. Ahead, I could see a bunch of kids playing soccer/football in the street, but before we got close to them, they stopped playing, en masse, and pointed to my right. I saw the street they were indicating and, as soon as I put on my indicator, they went back to their game…

Another time, we were driving down a road in a suburb and saw a guy under the hood(bonnet) of his car up ahead. As soon as he heard me approach he stood up and pointed to my left – I waved and followed his direction. Not a word passed between us.

There were occasions when we spoke, usually when I got ahead of myself – I drove past a bunch of guys only to see one of them run into the road behind me shouting and waving. I stopped and backed up. I might have thought: ‘What are you doing? We don’t know these people?’
But then I thought: ‘Hey, this is Grenada. Chill out…’
And sure enough, the guy said: ‘I don’t think you want to go up there – it doesn’t go anywhere. You should turn left here.’ He was right of course.

Red-Footed Tortoise takes a shower
I did have one near disaster on the road – and there were no signposts to help. We drove to a remote part of the island and headed down what looked like a concrete road. It was quite steep with an unfenced sheer drop on one side; I proceeded down with care. I was hoping that we could reach the shore at the base of the hill. Like so many roads here though, it led nowhere and I turned around to head back up. I spotted a red-footed tortoise crossing the road but, as I got out to take a shot, it started to rain. 

I got back in the truck and began the drive back up the hill as the rain turned torrential. The truck slowed to a stop and, as the wheels spun, it gradually slid to the left … …towards the sheer drop. Turns out what I’d thought was concrete was actually mud – it had turned to slime. Carol freaked out: “We’re going to go over the cliff!!” and despite my pleas for calm, she leapt out into the deluge and slithered her way up the hill. 
Our Jeep in calmer times
I decided now would be a good time to look for the 4-Wheel-Drive lever. Whew, I found it and once engaged the truck started to move upward. But, it wasn’t over – across the top of the mud road there was a lip where the asphalt started, and the truck stopped dead there, with all four wheels spinning. As Carol urged me on with gestures of shock, horror and despair, I slowly reversed back down the hill to take a run at it. Success; as I popped up over the lip, the rain stopped, and Carol climbed back in… It was a damp and quiet drive back to the villa.

Note to self – be careful where you drive when visiting strange places, and always keep a bottle of wine in the villa’s fridge!


A Tall Ship in Hillsborough Bay picks out sunlight after the Storm - view from our patio

Pearls Airport

We drove to Levera Beach, a spawning ground for the leatherback turtle, in the north east corner of the main island. On the way there, Car...