St. Lucia, Part 2: The Sand and Gros Islet

I love you, sea! You make me want to rustily attempt cartwheels on the beach, and you make me smile watching little 5-year-old kids like this one effortlessly doing cartwheels on the beach!

When we think of the Caribbean, we think of white sands, crystal blue waters, and paradise, right? If we're a little more cynical (or misanthropic), we think of Lobster-red sunburns, an overabundance of exposed saggy flesh and bad tattoos, and gaudy ecosystem-destroying resorts. Of course, the Caribbean is all of those things, but GET THIS: the Caribbean is mostly inhabited with normal, native citizens living their quotidian lives in the beach towns the tourists often neglect to visit. Crazy, right?!

For the second half of the trip, Tina and I journeyed up and down the windy roads, across the rainforest (yes, the island is only 28 square miles, but somehow it takes 90 minutes via motorized vehicle to get from the south to the north) to Gros Islet, a tiny, super chill ramshackle beach town, surrounded by beach resorts and glossy beach towns. We stayed at a lovely inn/guesthouse. It was as close to the water as a structure could be, super affordable, quaint, semi rustic (no a/c), and it came with this balcony:













Perfect for drinking wine and watching these:














Gros Islet is charming in a unique way. It is such a worn-down little place, but no one seems to be too concerned with the fanciful (or with building codes). The locals just hang out outside with friends at all hours, the smell of pot emanates from Rasta homes, bars, stores, etc. It's a simple, easy way of life. And it's colorful and cute:




























































































Of course, we had to spend one good day at the beach. We walked to the Pigeon Island National Park on the tip of the island, paid an entrance fee, and enjoyed this secluded beach all day long:



















This guy came by several times on his awesome dilapidated dinghy, selling spiced rum and tropical fruits. Too bad we did not figure out what he was offering until it was too late and he had sputtered away for the last time.
















Back to food. We had some great meals in Gros Islet. One night we ate at a cute little local pink and purple striped institution called Somewhere Special. Occasionally, I'll indulge in a fish dish, especially if I'm certain it's caught locally. That night, I tried a local fish called Bangamary. The fish was deliciously prepared in a lemon butter sauce and served with a local fruit called bread fruit chopped right off the backyard tree. Its consistency was like boiled potato or taro, and it soaked up sauces perfectly!















Our best meal was at a vegan restaurant called 7 Stitch. We tried several times to eat there, but either the chef was sleeping in a booth (I'm telling you, it's a lazy, easy-going town) or they had run out of food.















Finally, the stars aligned and we were able to eat there on our last full day. The meal was just exquisite and colorful and healthy and beautiful. The pink stuff is mashed potatoes with beets (mashed potatoes are my favorite food!!!!). On top of those is a tofu scramble with turmeric. To the left of the potatoes is a light raw carrot and christophene (chayote in the States, very common in St. Lucia) salad. Above that is bread fruit (second meal with bread fruit) in a "creamy" okra sauce. I don't know how he pulled off the creaminess, but it was delicious. To the right of that is some kind of lentil-y legume. To top it off, I had a fresh grapefruit and ginger juice, and Tina had a beet and pineapple juice. Yum. Perfection. I will always remember this meal. And trust me, we gushed about it to the cook!














I'm including one last sunset to this entry as the finale and tribute to beautiful amazing St. Lucia.

St. Lucia, Part I: The Land and Soufriere

"Around each bend was the familiar dark green of the trees that grew with a ferociousness that no hand had yet attempted to restrain, a green so unrelenting that it attained great beauty...and humility all at once; it was itself, nothing could be added to it; nothing could be taken away from it."
- Jamaica Kincaid, The Autobiography of My Mother

Oh, St. Lucia. You are a pretty place. I miss ya'lready. St. Lucia is far away. Look at a map. It, and the other islands of the West Indies, are in the southeastern part of the Caribbean Sea, far removed from the North American landmass. I was surprised by how long it took to get there via airplane. However, when it comes to the island's appearance, St. Lucia feels very far away from anything else. Indeed, this place is perceived as "The Nature Island" of the Caribbean. Which makes me sad.

Why sad? Well, St. Lucia gets tons of tourist. Tons of tourist who bypass the amazing, verdant, beautiful, heart-and-soul south end of the island for the white sand resort beaches of the north (beaches you can get anywhere--and in all honesty, most likely better--at other places in the Caribbean).

Below, Petit Piton. One of two mindblowingly beautiful twin peaks of St. Lucia, or as a travel guide aptly describes them, "emerald teeth rising from the sea":














But it's funny in a strange way, because this thing that made me sad also functioned to make me happy. How? Well, my best friend Tina and I spent three days in the medium-sized city of Soufriere in the southern part of the island. Soufriere is completely unadulterated when it comes to tourists. Therefore, we got a glimpse into the real-life workings and goings-on of island life.

BUT, our time in Soufriere was not what it could nor should have been, thanks to Delta (Smellta) and Alaska (AlaSCAM) airlines and their "codeshared" incompetence on locating my best friend's luggage for half (read: the Soufriere portion) of our trip. Do I sound annoyed? Oh sorry, that's 'cause I am.

Nevertheless, this lush part of the island was magnificent and beautiful. In a lot of ways, it was my favorite part of the trip. Our hotel was crammed in the loud, raucous downtown square where the church bells ring incessantly all morning long and the multitude of free-roaming city roosters call at all hours. I felt immersed in its multifarious elements: tall banana trees growing up the big verdant mountains; adults and children sitting curbside and yelling greetings to their friends in both Patois and English; bus horns honking; warm, thick humid air permeating everything. Succinctly, we were enveloped in a bubbling cauldron of life (and...of course, I loved it).

Shots of Soufriere:













































One late afternoon, Tina and I had a couple rum punches at a little tiny harbor cabana. We enjoyed conversing with the female bartender about life in Soufriere. The women of St. Lucia are sweet, kind, responsible, and respectful. The men, on the other hand, bombarded us (two women travelers) with relentless cat-calls. They were never threatening, just annoying (like the mosquitoes). Equating men to insects might sound heartless, but their "advances" were unwelcomed. Thus, I don't care if the analogy is heartless; their disrespect merits the analogy.

Directly outside the cabana, adorable kids were partaking in swimming lessons on the shore (oh, how I love silhouettes):














Here's an example of Tina drinking a rum punch (we had several in St. Lucia). St. Lucia produces its own rum and many different tropical fruits (yay for tropical fruits!), so rum punch is a common and delicious cocktail.



















We explored a botanical garden and enjoyed pretty flowers, cute birds, and a waterfall. Unfortunately, there were (cheap!) mineral baths there that we learned of after arriving (we did not have our swimsuits). Boohoo:














Ruby-throated bird:









































Hummingbird on branch:












Of course, I must spend a little time devoted to cuisine. Our best meal occurred during the second half our trip at a vegan restaurant so that meal (and others) will be detailed in the next blog post. BUT, I have to mention Jah-Lamb's, a vegetarian restaurant is owned by a sweet Rastafarian. We ate there twice. The first time, we waited and waited outside with growling stomachs for the restaurant to open. In fact, we waited well past its supposed 1pm start time. We were on Island Time, not mega-punctual American Time--a concept that takes some getting used to--no matter where in the world you visit. There is only one table at this restaurant, and we devoured our lunch with the same friendly and shy St. Lucian customer for both of our visits. We talked to him a little bit, and apparently, he eats the "bouillon," a hearty bean and veggie soup, at Jah-Lambs every single day for lunch! Now that's customer allegiance! Below, the interior decor:



















This was Jah-Lamb's version of Pizza. Whole wheat crust, curried yellow split peas (functioning as the sauce), and white cheddar cheese mixed with mystery herbs and spices. Filling and delicious.













Next Post: The beaches and Northern St. Lucia

A Knitted Wonderland

The first time I saw an object wearing a colorful sweater was in 2005, in the Capitol Hill neighborhood of Seattle. I was trudging up the steep street from my apartment to the grocery store, and lo and behold! My eyes feasted upon a street sign whose pole was "wearing" a Coogi style knit. My heart smiled. I enjoyed this new new form of street art--so whimsical, and for some reason, more respectful than an amateur graffiti tag.

I'm a treehugger. Unabashed. Avowed. Period. As evinced by blog entry after blog entry on this website, nature brings me great joy, and I love to see nature loved. That's why I was so excited when I heard last fall that this art exhibit was coming to the Blanton museum in Austin. About 100 knitters worked hard under artist Magda Sayeg's vision to embrace 99 tree trunks in front of the museum with knitted sweaters. Amid the motley designs covering the tree trunks, children were playing with, running around, and hugging the adorned arbors. Grown-up kids (like me) were doing the same, practically. It was fun.

Redbud Love, Part II: Grand Opening

A week later...