The LEFT WING of Guadeloupe

Voici la "BUTTERFLY"

   
     The island of Guadeloupe is often described as butterfly shaped.  Recently, we toured it by car with our British friends Rowena and Richard from the good ship sv Galene. They had spoken to the local car rental shop and arranged a car for two days, saying they’d return in the morning to pick it up. When we arrived the next day, the rental agency was closed.  We waited for nearly an hour and then Richard set off to find a phone to call the agent.  No phone was located, but he did learn that the shop was most likely closed because it was a national holiday celebrating the island’s emancipation of slaves. We took it in stride, as such is often our life when cruising the islands.
      The following day, we entered the rental shop bright-eyed and bushy-tailed fueled by espresso and sweet rolls from the local boulangerie. No mention was even made of the previous day.  Richard took the wheel for the first half of the day as we headed south along the coast from Deshaies to the Route de la Traversée that cuts through part of Guadeloupe’s extensive tropical forest just north of the island’s midline. The roadways were smooth and surprisingly well-maintained. We kept the island’s ever cloud-shrouded La Soufrière (volcanic peak) on our right.


Could use these for an umbrella...

Lots of bromeliads and spent orchid blossoms

            
     La Maison de la Florêt was our first stop where we gathered specific information and maps for the many sights in the Parc National de la Guadeloupe. The rain forest region gets an average of 10 meters (yes, METERS) of precipitation each year and is home to many feathered creatures.  While there, we strolled a 20 minute trail that took us twice as long because we were so taken with the natural beauty of our surroundings. (Well, at least Rowena and I were appreciating nature.  The men were discussing golf…)

Dan and Richard pause to wait for us.

      A short drive down the road was the Cascade aux Écrevisses (Crayfish Waterfall).  The walk there was shorter and fully equipped for handicapped individuals, including the blind!  The waterfall and pool were inviting, but none in our party jumped in.  I did step along the river for a bit searching for écrevisses, but didn’t spot any.
       
     Our lunch stop was selected and we drove for miles with anticipation following the signs for Le Grande Café Plantation.  However, when we finally found the café, the clerk at the tourist shop there informed us that those signs were very old and the restaurant was no longer in operation.  She did recommend another place to eat and gifted us with luscious bananas, as Le Grande Café Plantation was still a working banana farm.

        Lunch at Le Dame Jeanne was just right and I finally learned how to order dark rum in the French islands.  You must ask for rhum vieux which means “old or aged” rum instead of trying to use words for “dark or brown”.

This water apple tree was unfortunately on the wrong side of a high fence.

     Back on the main road, with Dan taking a turn at the wheel, we were now rounding the southern tip of the left wing with Le Soufriere’s peak still looming on our right.  We watched for the cut off toward Le Grande Étang, but discovered we’d gone too far.  Dan back tracked to the correct road, but it was closed off, so no Grand Étang this trip.  Onward we continued veering upward toward La Soufrière and away from the coastal villages. As we ascended into the verdant rain forest, the road grew more narrow and we were relieved that there were no oncoming vehicles.

         The road ended at the base of the trails that snaked their way around to the top of La Soufrière.  It began to rain just as we exited the car, so we took shelter under a pavilion. A few moments later, it looked like the shower had stopped, but it still sounded like it was pouring.  Yes, the water was pouring loudly down a stream not far from where we were standing. We elected to walk the shortest trail, the Savane-à-Mulets, because it was already late in the afternoon.


The boys always took the lead.

       At last, Dan skillfully maneuvered the car like a man possessed by the spirit of a grande prix driver back up the easternmost coast of Basse Terre.  He safely snaked us around hairpin curves and steep inclines ascending and descending to our anchorage in Deshaies.  And our first day’s land tour was put to bed.