St Anne – Guadeloupe
The next day we set off for St Anne, only 10 miles away. The wind yet again is on the nose and we are unable to sail. We motor sail all the way, ploughing into the 2 metres waves. Getting into the entrance of St Anne was a bit hairy, the waves and current between the 2 reefs make it a heart in the mouth thing. The reefs on the left and on the right have scary waves breaking on them the noise is intimidating. The depth goes down to 3 metres underneath us. And it gets worse as we inch our way around to find a suitable place to anchor. We end up in front of the little harbour wall in barely above 1.5 metres of water… we are not used to this! But what that gives you is beautiful shades of blues in the water…picture postcard! Blue sea, blond sand beaches fringed with palm trees, it is just like the brochures. The town from the anchorage is not so picturesque.
We take the dinghy to the fishing harbour. It is tiny. On one side expense of white sand and palm trees, on the other quite a charming fishing village complete with nets and buoys hanging from trees. Some fishermen are back from an early trip and are preparing their fishes. Swarms of pelican and frigates are swooping around catching the bits thrown back to sea.
It does not take long to go around the town, it is very small but very charming, the beach is right in town so very busy, so is the tourist market by the sea front. We walk up and down and found another market, fruits and vegetables this time. The produces on display are looking great and cheap. The main square is shaded with trees and the church towers at the far end. Another art deco building but pink this time. There are a few older traditional houses but not many left. Plenty shops though from food outlets to beach knick knacks and boulangeries.
We end up on the beach, it is so hot and the water is so tempting, the coral reef forms shallow alcoves which are perfect for children and there are plenty of them around. School children are having picnics and they sound like a flock of little birds, chattering on. We find a shady spot and spent some of the day people watching between swims. Back in the town, we spot the cemetery, can’t resist it. In the evening, we find the night market, tempting food stalls and loads of fruits and vegetables. The place is packed and long queues form in front of the accra and cakes stalls. The atmosphere is brilliant with music and loads of banter. I end up having a long political conversation with a Melenchon supporter distributing tracts. Less than 12 days until the French presidential elections and things are hotting up. On the way back to the dinghy, we pass the church again, the night before Good Friday and it is packed. We sit outside for a while listening to the singing and the sermon, having esoteric chat about God and religion.
We wanted to take the bus and go to St Francois where there is a long coastal walk up the cliffs looking out to the Atlantic. Being Easter, buses won’t be running for 4 days so we opt to do a local walk we found in a brochure at the Tourist Office. Started well enough along the road, until we met Joel, a local who had never heard of the Prince’s walk. Still we had a very interesting conversation by the side of the road, just like we were old friends. A 2 hours walk described in 5 lines so we feel confident that finding the path will be straight forward. Mistake…I quote “walk along the road for a few kilometres and you will find a mango tree, take the path on the left”. We found 5 mango trees all with paths by them but mostly going into private houses! We did have to ask for our way and very kindly Marie and her husband invited us for a glass of fruit juice. We chatted for over an hour in the shade of her veranda and talked about all sorts. She did point us in the right direction and we found the track following the valley. It was the day of the pigs and the cows, plenty of them everywhere. We were even asked if we wanted to take a pig home! Near a pond, shaded by a mango tree we found a camp. We had been told that many families would go camping for Easter weekend, but we were not prepared to see such huge family gatherings; there must have been over 30 people. And the camp did not look so transient either. I am sure I saw a generator and a fridge.
The track petered out and after a few wrong turns trying to find a way other than along the road, we gave up and followed the sign to St Anne. It was a small road and very pleasant, not much traffic. People were friendly and waved at us. We got back to town around 5, a 2 hours walk had turned into a full day’s undertaking. Still we had plenty blah blah along the way and it was not over yet. As we prepared to leave in the dinghy, a young family (Ben & Audrey) came from one of the catamaran anchored in the bay and we spent another hour chatting on the beach, sharing experiences. Far more courageous than us, travelling with 2 small children under 4 and another on the way… Amazing people!