I'm writing this Blog as I sit in row 19 of American Airlines flight number 1488. We're headed back to New York from Dominica, via San Juan, Puerto Rico. It's been a wonderful week - an escape from the frigid weather to a tropical wonderland. This was not your typical Caribbean resort as this island has not been developed like so many of the others. Like those, it remains desperately poor, the victim of globilization and a neo-colonial economy. But there's not even a touristy facade of glitz here. The cities or towns are poor and rundown with a minimum of services. Unemployment is severe and many people eke out what seems to be a subsistence living. Of course, there is a middle strata and some people live comfortably. A few are even very wealthy. And there are the white ex-patriates, many of whom own businesses and who are very comfortable.
On our last full day in Dominica, Rachel took us to Champagne beach. This was south of Roseau on the coast. We had passed it the other day on our way to Scotts Head, where the Caribbean and Atlantic met. One of the reasons for the lack of tourist development is the absence of sandy beaches. Champagne was no exception. So named because of sulfur bubbles that constantly rise from the sea bed at this location, it's a favorite place to snorkel and observe the marine life. As you float on the surface, bubbles rise all around you from the floor - you're swimming in bubbly!
Stacey checks about a piece of coral on Champagne beach.
We had to walk several hundred yards down a "beach" filled with rocks varying size from golf balls to basketballs - not an easy feat and very hard on the feet. Rachel had forgotten to tell us about the hard going and we were both wearing sandals, not ideal for scrambling, or stumbling, on this boulder-strewn shore. On our right, the ocean. On our left, sheer cliffs covered with dense vegetation.
"Why are we walking so far down the shoreline, I asked Rachel. "Because that's where the bubbles are", she replied. Well the walk was bad enough. Now we had to get into the water. Even harder. We, very slowly, made our way to the water's edge, sat down, leaned forward and inched our way into a floating position as soon as we could get deep enough to clear the submerged rocks. But it was worth it. Beautiful fish of various colors were playing amongst the air bubbles. The water was comfortably warm and calm.
Stacey and Rachel endeavoring to enter the water.
Mountain meets sea - Champagne Pool, Dominica.
We returned to Roseau at 3:30. We were to meet an acquaintence of Rachel's at a bar in town. She was delivering some soap that we liked which was made locally in Dominica. She never showed but while we were waiting, Oliver showed up and we finally met Rachel's dear friend (who she had been telling us about all week), Penny. While we were waiting, I ventured out to the street and noticed that next door was a restaurant that espoused its connection to our very own neighborhood in Brooklyn, which is home to many Caribbean immigrants.
The Brooklyn - Roseau connection.
The bar at Symes-Zee's restaurant.
Penny and Oliver.
We were planning to have dinner out for our last night in Dominica and we invited Penny to join us. Dinner was at the Fort Young Hotel in Rosseau.
The Fort Young Hotel was quite lovely. It's a hotel built around a historic fort. Part of the dining area is on an upper deck looking out to sea. It was a beautiful evening, perhaps 70 degrees with an aromatic and warm breeze wafting in from the water. The sound of the waves provided a very romantic backdrop to our dinner.
Dinner at the Fort Young Hotel.
Oliver, Penny, Rachel and Matt at dinner.
After dinner, Ollie wanted to check out a pre-Carnivale music show being held down the coast at a club. We drove down the road but a mile away from our destination, traffic had come to a standstill as hundreds of cars converged on the festivities.
Ollie dropped us off and we walked on. The place was mobbed with people pushing to get in. This was not my idea of pleasant night out. Paranoia set in and I announced my intention to avoid what appeared would be a crushing crowd inside. Oliver and Penny decided to tough it out. Stacey, Rachel and I drove home. Oliver appeared, not too much later and essentially validated my feelings. It was very, very crowded and not pleasant. Too bad we couldn't stay for next week and Carnivale with its street parades, bands and costumes. Maybe next year.
.....
This morning we woke early, finished packing and the four of us headed to our usual haunt, CocoRico Cafe for our last breakfast together. Rachel avoids going to the airport if possible - it's an hour or so away and then back again. So she went home and Oliver took us, kindly as he certainly is, once again on that crazy, twisty-turning, mountain road across the island to the Atlantic side and the airport in Marigot.
This was a wonderful adventure and very much different than the typical Caribbean trip that you might be familiar with. If you want to visit an unspoiled island of indescribable natural beauty, make Dominica your destination.
The twisty-turny road to the airport - through the mountains on a road barely wide enough for one car.
Stacey at the airport in Marigot, Dominica, waiting for our flight home.
Our airplane arrives late. A half hour later we were on our way to San Juan, Puerto Rico and then on to New York.
We arrived home at 11 pm (midnight, Dominica time), tired but happy. And ecstatic to see our Pumpkin cat who had been alone all week wondering what happened to us. Our beautiful upstairs neighbor, Diane, had been caring for Pumpy. On top of that, she greeted us and homemade a pizza for us. Now that's a neighbor that everyone should have. Oh, and one more thing: we can't believe that the snow is still on the ground. It's been 85 all week. Why doesn't it melt already??
Stacey and Diane, Anchovies, salami and onion: Voila! Pizza at midnight! And it was good by the way.
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