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 46^th Anniversary...

Sunset on Paradise Beach

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

Arrival through the Waves

I’ve never been sea-sick; frankly, I may have silently chuckled at those afflicted, even blaming them for their plight... Our journey had started well enough. We’d flown in late in the afternoon and been met at the airport by our longtime friend who’d just moved to the main island of Grenada. Early next morning, her landlord and his wife had driven us to our ferry for the 2-hour journey north to Carriacou.

The Carriacou Ferry

We’d decided to spend a week on the bustling main island visiting with our friends, but first we’d celebrate our wedding anniversary on the quiet island of Carriacou.

I have to say we were warned. When I’d bought the ferry tickets on-line it had said that the journey through the Caribbean was often rough; it recommended sea sickness pills. I’d dismissed it as scaremongering. Then, as soon as we’d found our seats, the crew had handed out sick bags to all those who were clearly not locals…

The voyage started smoothly as we left St George’s harbor – I stood aloft and chatted to Christie, a woman from Toronto – good thing I did. I took my seat and the boat started to plunge and rise, rolling from side to side as it went. As a greyness came over me I stood up and went to the front of the cabin, holding a rail, focusing on the horizon, and clutching my sick bag. Immediately I felt better… but it didn’t last. I looked at my watch and realized we had another hour to go.

As I felt the blood drain from my head, I ran back to my seat and vomited into the bag, again and again. Christie had seen my plight and rushed over with a Gravol: ‘I read the warning so I took one before we got on.’ I took it and tried to keep it down. All it did was make me tired and I fell asleep trying to keep my focus on the horizon. I did notice a greenish tinged local woman sat opposite me. When we got up to leave she said, ‘Watching you, I almost threw up myself.’ I thanked her for her support!

We arrived at the dock – it was calm blue sea without a cloud in the sky. Lincoln, our greeter, met us and loaded us into his VW bus. He drove us away from the town to our villa halfway up the hill. Nurleen and Vanessa were waiting to show us around – how to light the gas stove, put on the mosquito net, etc. The villa is extremely airy; with all the doors and windows open, you are essentially sitting outside. I asked her if we should lock all the doors and windows up when we went out?

‘Oh, we never lock anything up here. There’s no crime on Carriacou – we just leave everything open.’

Carol relaxes ‘inside' the villa

As we spoke, Aaron drove up in a jeep and came in: ‘I’m here to take you for your rental.’ As I walked up to the vehicle.’ Vanessa asked me if I could give her a lift into town. ‘Sure’, I said, but I wondered why she’d asked me, instead Aaron. Aaron drove through the town, dropping Vanessa off, then headed straight to the police station. The only door that was open was the Charge Room. An older woman in a uniform sat beside a large sign stating: You have the Right to Call your Lawyer. ‘What are you doin’ on my island?’ she snapped.

Looking out on Our Patio

‘Just visiting…’ I replied. 

‘Welcome,’ she laughed. I filled in a form, handed over US$24, and got my 3-month Grenada driver’s license. 

Aaron drove me to Wayne’s Auto Repairs, Rentals and Bar. He left the keys in the car and took me into the Bar, and I mean behind it, to meet a woman who filled in the rental papers. It was then I realized that the jeep Aaron had been driving was my rental.

I drove back to the villa and we sat out on the patio, in the afternoon sun, cracking open the bottle of wine we’d brought with us, as we looked out across the Caribbean; the only sound was the occasional dog bark. Heaven.

Later we drove into town and parked. I looked around to make sure no-one was watching as I locked the jeep door. It felt like I was betraying their trust… …more so since there was nothing we owned inside the jeep.

The View from our Patio