We started today with a visit to the Diamond Botanical Garden, just a few miles from our condo.
An expert, freelance tour guide thought we were the people he was waiting for, so we joined his tour. It's kind of a long story.
His name was "Alexander the Great", and he was very well-practiced at this.
The tour picked up two more couples, including the people he was originally looking for. They were from Buck's county, PA (the county south of where we live). The other couple was from Florida.
The botanical garden was full of interesting bit of history, as well as dozens of different flowers/trees/plants (obviously?).
Alexander's tour style walked the line between overly-excited and angry, sprinkled with corny jokes. "LOOK AT THIS FLOWER! THIS IS CALLED THE CRAB'S CLAW! YOU SEE?!" And his accent sounded exactly like you think it did.
We toured around the gardens, getting bombarded with facts and information about all of the trees and flowers.
The botanical garden is downstream from the sulfer springs, so this river is warm, silty water.
Sabrina took a lot of photos of flowers.
I commented to another tour member that this was probably the most thorough tour I've ever received. He jokingly replied "I'm exhausted".
At the Diamond Falls, our guide insisted on taking photos for each couple. He seemed very well practiced at this, too.
This is as close as you're allowed to get to the falls, unfortunately.
Alexander also made palm-frond animals for all of us, while he was walking. I earned a grasshopper for knowing that Connecticut is the nutmeg state, while we were learning about the nutmeg tree.
After spending about 45 minutes at the botanical garden, we drove around the corner, so to speak, to find the Toraille waterfall. There isn't much to it, but for $3 per person, it's worth the visit IMHO.
As it has been raining intermittently the entire time we've been here, there was a significant amount of water tumbling from above. I had to test the force and temperature of the water, before proceeding. It wasn't exactly "cold", but it was brisk.
It was not a gentle, relaxing feeling, but it was definitely refreshing. Sabrina decided against getting a violent shower.
It started pouring just as we were leaving, much to the dismay of the vendors hawking baubles across the street.
Next, we powered back up the hill a few miles, returning to the sulfur springs, with proper attire and towels this time. We opted for the combo deal of a tour of the geothermal field and entrance to the hot springs pools.
We declined a tour guide, and instead just listened to other guides that were already up at the top.
Apparently, as late as the mid-80s, the tours would include walking out into the geothermal field... until a tour guide broke through the crust and was severely burned. Oops.
The entire area smelled terrible, thanks to the hydrogen sulfide venting from the ground. It cannot possibly be good for the people who work there to breathe that all day, but they were reassuring people that it was safe in low concentrations.
Brief rain showers had been passing through while we toured the hillside, but they abated on our walk back down to the pools.
There were four pools, most of which were sparsely populated. This is just one of the many perks of traveling during a pandemic, in the off season.
I don't know why I didn't have my sunglasses; the weather changes rapidly here, and it got sunny almost as soon as we got in.
The water flows directly out of the ground, just a few hundred yards upstream, but is somehow only around 100°F when it reaches these pools. From the last one, it just flows down the hill, presumably headed to Diamond Falls.
After soaking for half an hour or so, and opting not to slather ourselves with the mud (silt) that was available in nearby buckets, we rinsed off as best we could, got some cold beverages on the way out, and continued the Nature Day farther up the mountain.
Alexander the Great, AKA "the walking internet" (his words), had suggested we might like the Tet Paul Nature Trail during our brief farewell chat, earlier in the day. I believe his parting words were "you even have the right car for it".
We decided to follow that advice, and drove halfway up a mountain to find the start of the nature trail.
Our guide led us up the steep trail as if it were a proverbial stroll in the park. He said it was his fifth time today, I think.
Along the way, he stopped at viewpoints to point out landmarks and discuss the surrounding community.
What with all the rain, the trail was somewhat muddy. Sabrina had appropriate footwear, of course. I was in flip flops.
Halfway up the trail, there's an organic community garden. Apparently the guy who tends it lives in a shack up there.
The views from that high up were absolutely stunning. The trail does a loop at the top, and there were several viewpoints along the way.
Just when we thought we didn't have any more stairs to climb, the guide pulls a "okay, now we will go to the top."
At the very top, we were treated to a 360-degree panorama of the the island, from the Pitons all the way to the airport where we landed a few days ago. The guide said that, on a clear day, we would've been able to see St. Vincent (south) and Martinique (north).
We had really lucked out with the weather, today. I can't imagine trying that hike in the pouring rain, not to mention how annoyed I would've been to get to the top and not be able to see anything.
If you zoom in on this photo, you can see the airport. Google tells me it was over 9 miles away from where we were.
After soaking in the amazing views for awhile, we continued the loop and trekked back down the mountain.
By the time we parted ways with our tour guide, it was just after 3 PM. We hadn't eaten much of anything since breakfast, so we'd hoped to get something to eat at one of the restaurants at Fond Doux, which was on the road leading up to the Tet Paul trail.
They turned us away at the gate, though, saying that lunch ended at 3 because of the curfew.
We had one last hail-mary idea to get lunch/dinner, with a fallback plan of cheese/crackers and/or an omelet, back at the condo, and that was to make the drive out to Anse Chastanet resort, hoping that they were fancy enough to still be open despite the curfew.
The guidebook says this about the drive out to this beach: "The mile-long dirt road from Soufrière is a challenge even for taxi drivers, given its (by design) state of disrepair."
They weren't kidding, although by now it didn't seem that unreasonable, given some of the roads we've traversed in the last few days. There were lumpy/broken paved parts, dirt/gravel sections, potholes full of water, narrow spots, blind corners, etc.
At one point, a small river flowed straight across the road. There was also a police checkpoint about halfway, but they accepted "we're going to the restaurant" as an answer; after conferring with a colleague ("Are the restaurants open? Yeah?") we were allowed through.
Once we reached the resort entrance, the guard informed us that lunch ended at 3, and dinner wasn't until 6, but that we could get food at the bar. He was apologetic; we were thrilled.
Jackpot. Yes, please.
There was the usual temperature check, gathering of our names and where we're staying locally (for contact tracing, we presume), and questioning of intent. This was the first time we had to sign a COVID-19 waiver, though. It was almost like being back at the health screening at the airport.
Then it started pouring. Assuming this was the familiar, brief rain shower, we awkwardly waited in the guard hut for a minute or two, before deploying our umbrellas and continuing on foot, during a lull.
Except... it wasn't the familiar, brief shower. It was a series of thunderstorm cells that absolutely soaked the optimistic beach-goers who, like we had almost done, tried to wait it out. It was already 4 PM, anyway.
While lightning lit up the sky over the ocean and the thunder boomed, we ordered cocktails and reflected on our nearly-perfect timing, yet again.
Eventually, even the most stoic beach fanatics abandoned their palm-thatched gazebos and fled for shelter. We enjoyed an early dinner from the comfort of the beach bar.
As usual, airborne beggars made the rounds.
After an hour or so, the storm let up and the clouds thinned. Food service at the bar ended, so the meager crowd dissolved back into their resort rooms.
While Sabrina finished a glass of wine, I scouted ahead on the beach and evaluated our options.
We settled up during the shift change for the upcoming dinner service, and then went for a stroll on the beach as the blue sky won the battle for the last hour of daylight.
At the other end of the beach, there were stairs up to a dirt road that continued along the coast. They happened to also be a waterfall, at the time.
There was a sign directing guests to the next beach/cove over, so we continued our evening walk to see where it led.
Maybe 1/4 of a mile down the road, which was peppered with fallen rocks from the cliffs above, we came to this pier with a helicopter pad. Up the hill from Anse Chastanet is the (extremely expensive) Jade Mountain resort, and (I'm guessing) people who don't care about costs apparently take the chopper from the airport to the resort.
As everywhere else in this area of the island, the views include one or more of the Pitons.
Not liking the looks of the towering cliffs of loose rock and dirt, and also not really having any time to spare (wasn't interested in that return drive after sunset), we returned to the other end of the beach, rinsed our feet off, and made our way back to the car.
The return trip was even more adventurous than the outbound drive, as now there were freshly fallen rocks, more puddles, deeper river across the road, etc.
Back at the police checkpoint, a rock easily weighing several tons had tumbled down the hillside (along with several multiple-hundred-pound friends), nearly blocking the road. It was almost as big as our Suzuki. The police were nowhere to be seen; perhaps they had to get home for the 4 PM curfew?
Maybe 2/3 of the way back, there was a great spot to stop and take in the view of Soufrière Bay. It was after 6 PM, by this point.
The remainder of the drive was uneventful, aside from the steep descent and terrible road.
Back at the condo, we had a lot of clothing/backpack/towel/people maintenance to perform, and then we had dessert from our stash of baked goods that we brought with us.
Once again, our timing was impeccable; it started raining just after we unloaded the car, and it looks like it's going to rain all night.
We had a fairly busy day, despite not starting particularly early (the botanical gardens didn't open until 10 AM) and not really leaving the Soufrière area. It felt like a lot of driving, but Google Maps suggests we went maybe 16 miles or so.
Tomorrow, our relatively good luck with the weather might run out. If it doesn't, we might take a boat trip at some point, or maybe just a sunset cruise. Who knows?
Also, we need to get COVID-19 tests, so we can come back to the United States. The welcome paperwork at the condo has some contact info to help with this. We also heard that it might be possible to get tested at the local hospital, or that they could direct us somewhere else. It should be an adventure, either way. ;-)
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