Friday, April 25. Puffy clouds, blue sky, F 82, moored in St. Maarten.
Day 111 of 113. [3 more sleeps]
The last few days we have been buzzing around the Caribbean on the Eastern side of the string of islands. We first visited the islands around 1980 or 1981 and they are all a virtual tropical paradises. The climate is to dream of, the vegetation lush and the people are very interesting.
Without being negative but merely stating the facts as I see them, one is never very far from poverty at a level that we do not know at home in most of the islands. In the bigger cities and towns things may function as at home. But the degree of maintenance of homes, building, roads and pavements make you constantly aware that you are in a less than a fully developed country.
We vacationers seem to operate in a bit of a bubble, in some cases some visitors will spend their entire vacation inside a resort, rarely venturing out into the real world of the Caribbean. The resorts are of course manned by people who sleep in the real world, not a four or five star resort. I have sensed a feeling of a sort of resentment about how we, who have so much, come and vacation or party in their world then go home and live in a big house with running water, heated and air-conditioned homes.
In Roseau, Dominica I did not get a chance to explore the town but when driving through it, it seemed to reek of history, an interesting past and a sense that it can never catch up to what we consider the modern world. There were some very old picturesque wooden buildings, many in a high state of disrepair, some masonry building that appeared to be in ruins, occupied by some business and also quaint residential multi-family homes living like they did 100 or more years ago. And also some modern newly built buildings.
We did quite a few of the islands many years ago before we discovered Maui and Hawaii. After that, we never went back to the Caribbean. I was expecting maybe some progress towards moving up the standard of living ladder more than I have seen. We have been mostly in the country on the last four stops, and to me, the rural areas says much more about a country than a city because a city is a city, but the sense of the place is measured by the people who live and farm in the country. My conclusion is that most of these islands are still poor.
In Dominica the two main sources of income are tourism and bananas, and the tourist season is winding down, what about all those tour operators and vendors selling the same things as the last island and the island before? How will they fare during the hurricane months when some of the flimsy homes in the country take their annual beating and the cruise ships stop coming?
I seemed to sense a bit of resentment as we walked past the vendors and people selling their various items as we headed for the Big White Ship parked in their main street for the day and then sail away to our cozy upper class life in a country that might as well be a million miles away for them.
Today we are in St. Maarten and this appears to be an exception. It looks like downtown Disneyland from what I saw and it has made a transformation from when we were last here. You can almost sense the money and higher standard of living here.
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Our day today…
We were on the buses for our Downhill Mountain Trek by 8.35. The 14 hardy souls were transported to an old plantation now called a Farm, midway up the highest mountain on the island, 1400 feet. We then were transferred to a Zoom-Zoom as they call it, a flat-deck truck with slat seats and sides that lowered for getting in and out, for the 15 minute drive up a very steep and narrow track to the mountain peak. From there we hiked down through the rain forest and dense underbrush finally clearing and opening up into a steep trail in lighter vegetation down to civilization.
The whole trek took a little less than two hours, it was not strenuous except for the rugged path and footing that was sometimes treacherous. We had a few slips but no broken bones or blood was shed with our group. We eventually made it to a Day Spa and Zip-Line station where we were treated to rum punch, [add your own rum]. Soon back on the buses and to air-conditioned comfort of the ship.
The trip today was a poignant reminder that everything that we saw in the way of roads, walls and crumbling buildings on the trail was built by slaves. Ironically, midway down the trail, was a pile of large grave markers from the owners of property and slaves in those days, piled like so much garbage and left to spend eternity in a steaming jungle. My how things change.
Once again we chose not to prowl the streets and were soon in our cabin where we cleaned up and had a light lunch. A quiet time and then the blog and get ready for Jim and Gail who came for a Sail-Away as we head for two days at sea. Jim and Gail arrived just as the ship cast off and we enjoyed the last bottle of bubbly for our last sail away of this great journey we have been on.
Good day today.
Jim and gail went to a beach today and crammed in some more of that precious commodity. Apparently they had a very lazy and completely relaxing last day ashore.
Two full days at sea and then the Good old USA, Fort Lauderdale in less than 60 hours!
But who is counting?
Pics.
- Welcome.
- Crossing into the French side from the Dutch side.
- To the trucks.
- On board for a bumpy ride up the rest of the mountain.
- Next two, views.
- The trail.
- Still going down.
- Remains of a slave-built building.
- Two giant copper pots for boiling down cane for rum.
- More trail.
- More views.
- Remains of some once-glorious grave covers.
- At the bottom, time for a cool drink.
- Last three, contrast in the lifestyles here.
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- Craig's house yesterday morning.
- Craig's house yesterday evening.
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- Fellette suggested I put in a picture of me today to show that I was, indeed, on the hike.
