Day 3.
Needing more adventure after a day of recovery, we had signed up for the Jammer Tour. This entailed a ride on a catamaran
boat that holds up to 60 people, taking us across the Caribbean to view the
Pitons, a stop-over at the city of Souffriere to visit the “drive-through
volcano” and a cocoa plantation, lunch, followed by a what was billed as a
relaxing swim at a private cove on the way back. It was an all day tour.
Our boat was filled with fellow Windjammer Landing tourists. Meeting fellow tourists (usually identified
by our white skin), the same line of questioning followed, much like it does in
college. Instead of, “What’s your
major?” we asked, “Where are you from?” The first couple I noticed as we waited to
launch was a physical replica of my brother and sister-in-law, Paul and
Denise. The husband was a bit goofy and
large while his red-headed wife was quite slender. The Southern accents clinched their likeness
as my brother has a pronounced drawl and his wife is a Texan.
On the Jammer Tour, Pitons behind us |
We initially sat under the cover of the boat, wanting to
avoid sunburn. There I got to know the
“pregnant couple”. The wife was 7-months
along, two small children at home. They
were from Nevada, originally from Utah. We
seemed to run into the pregnant couple everywhere that week, including on the
flight home. We never once asked each
other’s names though. Once the boat got
under way and the sea became more cantankerous, we moved to the bow, sun be
damned I was not going to risk sea-sickness.
There I was sitting next to middle-aged couples travelling together,
from Brooklyn. When I raised my eyebrows
at hearing the word Brooklyn, the woman quickly explained, “But we’re
originally from Russia; that’s where the accent comes from. Twenty-six years in States, but I can’t lose
the accent.” The one African-American
couple on board was quite young, from Atlanta via New York. Other scantily-clad thirty-something couples
lay out on the bow, catching rays. The one
that caught my eye was a man reading his cell phone while his wife read
magazines she’d brought. How sad, I
thought. You’re on a boat in the
Caribbean Sea, surrounded by natural beauty, and you can’t put the cell phone
down?
Text to wife, "Isn't this fun?" Wife: "Leave me alone, I'm reading Vogue." |
We saw St. Lucia’s landmark mountains, the Pitons,
affectionately referred to as “Helen’s breasts”. Landing in Castries, we split into groups and
boarded mini-busses which took us through town and up the mountain to the
volcano. Well, volcano is really a
misstatement. It’s sulphur springs, much
like what they have at Yellowstone Park.
The traditional coned walls of the volcano had come down centuries ago,
exposing the inside; stinky, rotten-egg smelling, boiling water.
This is billed as the World's Only Drive-through Volcano |
The plant-life on the tour was very interesting. The ferns are way bigger than ours; mango,
banana and coconut trees are abundant.
Orchids and poinsettia grow naturally.
The animal life was lacking, being that St. Lucia is an island, most of
their animals are domestic. We saw one
seagull and no squirrels or pigeons. We
were told that the snakes were brought over a couple of centuries ago to intimidate
the slaves at the time. When the snake
population grew out of control, the mongoose was introduced to kill off the
snakes. Way to go, White People. The only other wild animals mentioned were
opossum, wild pigs that used to be domesticated, and a parrot. We saw none of those. We did see chickens in the road and very sad, emaciated, sickly street dogs. I fantasized about moving to St. Lucia and
establishing a dog rescue or bringing the small cats back home with me to start
a new breed of small cats in the States called the St. Lucian.
After the volcano, we were bussed up the hill to a buffet lunch held at a covered, outdoor pavilion. The mountain was steep and bus was challenged enough that at one point we thought we’d have to get out and push. Our driver cut off the air conditioning so the engine wasn’t so taxed. The buffet area was so crowded with fellow tourists that the staff called tables up to get in line one at a time. We didn’t expect much for quality here, but the food was delicious. From there we traveled to the Fond Doux cocoa plantation where we learned just how long it takes to process cocoa beans and that their major contract for cocoa is Hershey.
Docking in Souffriere |
Back down the mountain to our waiting catamaran. The boat took us to our promised private cove
so we could enjoy a swim or snorkel. As
our boat prepared to anchor, three canoes approached with men hawking their
wares, beaded necklaces and conch shells.
We politely turned down the canoe pirates as we got in the water. They were impossible to ignore, shouting that
they were cheaper than Walmart. These
guys stayed with our boat the entire time we were anchored, hanging onto the
side, calling the entire time. So much
for a peaceful swim. We couldn’t wait to
get out of there.
Even with the hawkers, we felt like the Jammer Tour was a great deal as we got to do a lot of different things and met several fellow tourists that we would continue to get to know throughout the week. I loved that they played real island music on the boat, even Christmas reggae. St. Lucian bananas were offered as a snack (the best bananas we've ever eaten, ever), and of course, rum punch.
B-A-N-A-N-A-S! |
No comments:
Post a Comment