Fish & Chocolate

George, the fisherman, was open yesterday morning and doing a roaring trade as people stopped by for freshly-cooked fish and johnny cakes on their way to work … eating carefully so as not to drip down their clothes. It’s literally a two minute walk from our place. A large, meaty Kingfish steak and a smaller whole fish (variety unknown) were wrapped in foil and carried reverently back before being demolished (well partly … there was a lot) for breakfast. Roasted to perfection with just a hint of heat but allowing the flavour to come through … and the johnny cakes – light, fluffy, delicious … incredible. The remains were eaten cold for lunch the next day … and if possible, were even more tasty … nothing needed but bread and butter … and a glass of juice.

Choiseul, halfway between Laborie and Soufriere, was reported to have lots of local crafts so perhaps worth a visit. A bus was just passing so we flagged him down and had the whole thing to ourselves. Each bus driver has his own prefered playlist … so far we’ve had Country & Western, light pop, good, stirring hymns, Celine Dionne, and Reggae …. all played at reasonable and sing-along volume. This guy had the speakers cranked beyond the threshold of pain, almost the the point of instant hearing loss… the bass notes pounded throughout our whole being like the inside of a kettle drum. We sat in the back, fingers jammed into ears, in an attempt to mitigate the damage of Bob Marley at super sonic volume. Noticing our pained expressions in his rear-view mirror the driver apologised, and turned the volume down to a toe tapping level for the remainder of the journey

The fishing village was very quiet … most of the craft places were scattered along the highway quite a distance from town and any tourist buses, so we were definitely the only strangers around. We chatted with Gabriel Alfred, a worker down on the waterfront, who told us about the upcoming Independence day festivities. Sat admiring the cool, airy church while one of the parishioners was tidying the altar, and got accosted by a fellow with a bag full of coconuts and mangos – insisting they were a steal at $30. He was a tough salesman! We knocked him down to $3.00 EC for two nice mangos.

From the shade of the police station we caught another bus heading north toward Soufriere … this time alighting at the chocolate plantation and hotel. https://saintlucia.hotelchocolat.com/project-chocolat/A sign pointing to the Jurassic Trail led past cacao beans being raked and dried in the sun … before plunging under a green canopy of Cacao trees, well kept board walks overlooking what would be a lake in rainy season but was now a sea of brilliant green marshy plants and a spectacular view of Petit Piton. There was even a tasteful shady swing seat to sit and contemplate. Apart from one small group of cheerful yoga enthusiasts (apparently they have a spa at the hotel), we had the entire place to ourselves. Banks of moss-covered rocks lined the walkways … splashes of vivid orange from the flame trees up on the hillside … bird song and gentle breezes the only sounds for miles around. Suddenly we found ourselves in a grove of evergreen coffee bushes … the drupes or ‘cherries’ just beginning to turn from green to yellow and red. They have all the makings of Mokka here! Rabat Estate has made it free for anyone to enjoy …. they are self-sustainable, local farmer supportive, and although there were tours of the chocolate-making process up at the hotel, we just enjoyed the glorious, peaceful wander through nature.

A bar and restaurant down by the entrance was a great place to rest and sip icy cold fruit punches (no rum – we still had to get home). Absolutely the best and most delicious blend of juices ever. There was a help-yourself selection of chafing dishes off to the side for those wanting a hot meal … however the only interested party was a small brown bird perched on one of the serving spoons, head on one side, beady eye on some grains of rice.

Our bus driver home was definitely in the running for newest member of the Ferrari race team. Hurtling along at WELL over the posted speed limit (apparently these are just a suggestion as no-one regulates them) … over speed bumps … ’round corners on three, possibly two wheels … overtaking on blind corners. We screeched to a halt at our stop, peeled ourselves out of the seats (I swear my fingerprints are still on the handles) and stumbled onto steadier ground. Each journey is an experience!