St. Lucia’s Finest!

The high winds and waves had washed a surprising object onto the beach overnight … a 30 foot sailboat with one of its two masts snapped. Laying forlornly on it’s side … rolling with each wave … a gaping hole in the hull. The owners (presumably not on board at the time) and local fishermen were securing it with chains and lines to a cement bollard and palm tree on the shore to prevent further damage. Sobering to see. Quincy, one of the younger fisherman on the beach, resplendent in the requisite gold chains, low-riding baggy pants, a stylish set of dreads and a neatly-threaded beard ring came over to chat about the boat and things in general. The mystery of the floating pop bottles was solved … attached strings to the sea bed are used to grow sea moss. According to Quincy – the elixir of everything good … from glossy hair, smooth skin, boils, headaches, libido, you name it. It also, apparently, makes a refreshing drink https://www.bbc.com/travel/article/20240802-sea-moss-punch-the-caribbeans-cooling-healthy-elixir-for-summer

Late afternoon as we walked into town to buy bread for the morning, a tantalizing aroma of barbecuing meat assailed our nostrils. On a tiny porch, a woman and her daughter were basting and turning an entire grill of glistening, golden morsels … plump, pink pork chops and sizzling chicken legs … impossible to resist and a veritable bargain. This would complement the vegetable rice we had leftover and make a fine dinner … no cooking involved. It sure beats impersonal grocery store shopping.

We have a zip line adventure booked for later in the week, and as it involves a longer bus route we thought it prudent to check out the area/bus stops/times etc. Being a Saturday, buses into Vieux Fort were packed to capacity as people went into town for their weekly shop. Full buses would toot and flash their lights to say ‘no room on board’, but there was always another along soon. A change at Vieux Fort for one heading to Castries … this being a much longer trip, drivers waited until every seat was filled before setting off … hence no real schedule … and unlike the other buses we’ve taken, money was collected in advance. We’ll get off at Dennery, about half way. 😊

Around the Island’s southern tip and up the eastern Atlantic side … high cliffs, bays and crashing waves. Dennery itself is another small fishing village … this one sheltered from harsh ocean forces by a conveniently-placed islet and breakwater. A smattering of colourful houses and mostly deserted streets .. apart from the ever-present goats and dogs. Down on the waterfront though, a hive of activity as fish was iced and packed for a Japanese company – ready for shipment. There were a few bars and food places — mostly set up in regular houses. We stopped for juice and a chat with one owner – she originally owned the bar but a few years ago sold it to her daughter, who then moved to the States, so it’s back to the Mum to manage the place. There had been a funeral the day before and we talked about how everyone in the community pulls together and shares — some people cook or serve, others clean and tidy – if someone is short of food, they get fed. How a community should be.

Rocks under a palm tree was a great place to eat lunch, watching the fish boats. Children played … dogs sniffed … goats munched … until a large ominous cloud threatened a soaking squall. Back to the highway where ‘the main gap’ — a local name for where a town’s road crosses the main road – headed up to the zip line. Thankfully, a bus shelter offered refuge in case of downpour, and we waited. An older man already there was curious why we had come to Dennery … I guess not many tourists do … at least by bus. Anyone visiting the zip line would probably go via a tour or in their own car. He was most insistent that we didn’t attempt to go on foot … saying there were no houses that way and it probably wasn’t a good idea. We assured him there would be a car picking us up. The disappointing news was that buses coming from Castries in the afternoon would likely be totally full, with very little chance of finding a seat. This proved so as bus after bus zoomed by. Hmmm. One that was going part of the way to Vieux Fort stopped … better than nothing, so we hopped aboard.

A quarter of the way to our destination, and the end of the line for this bus but we were still in the same predicament. The driver refused to accept any payment. Another alternative would be to flag down a taxi, but just as we were considering this, a fellow passenger from the same bus introduced himself as a police officer heading home to Vieux Fort (he showed us his identity card and even had regulation black flip flops on his feet!), he said “Don’t worry, I’ll look out for you”. Sure enough, a few minutes later he spotted a private tour bus he knew … gave a mighty yell and it slid to a stop. Turns out the driver was also a part time cop – he and his wife had just finished giving a guided tour and were on their way home. … happily offering us a free ride into town. Truly some of St. Lucia’s finest!

The chance of re-stocking at Massey’s was too good to miss, and we emerged with two big jugs of water and two laden bags of groceries – the veggies are extraordinarily good, especially the green beans and local bok choi. Over to the line of waiting buses to see which would be traveling in our direction. Saltibus … perfect! It passes right by our place. As passengers packed in it dawned that our position, wedged at the back, might present some problems when getting out. The last seat was taken by an elderly gentleman with two enormous bags, positioned so all hope of an easy exit was next to zero. We looked at each other. Twelve minutes later at our stop the young lady beside us levered herself over his bags and onto the roadside in order to let us out of the seat … we in turn mountaineered over the same bags, endeavouring not to drop anything, step on his stuff or decapitate the unfortunate passengers in front. Amazingly, we managed … with nary a cracked egg.