Saturday 8th July
Hash day today and another good one this is. Good turn out… Shademan had to call for reinforcement and we have 2 full buses going today; we all pile up in ancient minivans. I bag myself the best seat right by the driver at the front. Best views. Maybe I should not have done. These roads are scary, steep hills and roads curving all too near to the precipice. We are rattling around at high speed, trying to keep up with Shademan’s van who knows where we are going. Can’t lose him really, all we have to do is follow the great plume of black smoke coming out of his exhaust. Mind you our van is hardly better, the gearbox screaming at every gear change. Our destination is on the other side of the Grand Etang lake, Morne Longue. Deep into the heart of Grenada. It takes us over an hour and a half to get there; our driver is doing the tour guide thing, giving me a running commentary of each village we pass through. He seems to know everyone on the way, waving and hooting greetings.
The small village where we finally stop is overrun with people. There must be 100 of us runners and walkers milling around the small village. All ages, sizes and shapes, children, teenagers, oldies and dogs are waiting for the ash to start. Some are well prepared, sporting wellington boots! It is now our 3rd one so we are starting to recognise the regulars. I had a nice chat with Denise, from Ireland, whose family has relocated here for the next 3 years, following hubby who has a job here. After the usual pep talk and new shoes ceremony: poor pickings this week, only 3 unsuspecting souls have admitted to having new shoes and have to go through the drinking beer out of them thing before we start. The whole village has obviously been expecting us. BBQs are being fired up, music is blaring out, and locals are extremely friendly. Entire families are on their balconies cheering and waving when we start down the road, although you can see that they are wondering what on earth would drive anyone to go running up their hills for fun. A couple of goats joined us for a spell, much to the amusement of Ian, who decides to drive them. The weather is dry but the rain has ensured that the paths are muddy, boots squelching, sinking ankle deep in the red earth. As per usual, we are at the back of the pack, too busy sliding madly, taking pictures and chatting away with Annie and Eric (El Gato). The first part of the walk passes through small holdings, cocoa, banana, plantain, star fruits, all very bucolic, but so very exotic. I pick my steps with care, it is extremely slippery, when a man shoots pass us on his belly, hands outstretched, cartoonlike. I swear he was lucky to have a banana tree stop his downhill careen. To my amazement, he picks himself up and started running again. We met his wife who just shook her head in disbelief. We catch up with them later on; he is disappearing into the bushes away from the trail… we assume call of nature, then we can hear the lady calling for him, Ian went back but could not find him, so he came back to us. By this time we are left behind the main group and only Annie & Eric are going at the same pace, slow, very slow that is. After the farm, we reach a tangled forest, with fabulous birds of paradise flowers forming a hedge along the path, the sunlight through the foliage gives it a magical feel, walking in mottled sunshine. The going gets even more mucky and slimy and Annie keeps our spirits up by singing songs of Sound of Music… and she knew all the words!
We soon got back to civilisation, stopped in a stream to clean our boots and a local farmer turns up with a cola nut, by the time he finished his demonstration we knew all there is to know about cola and its health benefits. His lesson was somewhat interrupted by news that a walker had been hurt and needed recovering from the trail. A search party was set up, the local guys hurrying back up the trail before the dark sets in. Ian would have gone back with them but the call of the BBQ and beer was stronger. As it turned out that It was the man last seen disappearing on his own into the bush and it was not so serious, Ian got all the story later in the bus coming home. So after demolishing some grilled chicken from the BBQ, Ian still feeling hungry wandered down to the next food and drink establishment. A huge pot was bubbling over a fire and he came back with a weird looking dish, the only recognisable ingredients being some plantain and chicken wings, swimming in a greenish sauce.
The casualty recovered, we did not linger at the after hash party, shame, it look like it was going to be a good one. The return journey took us to Greenville on the east coast of Grenada, lively town by the look of it. The coastal road with the moon shining on the flat dark sea was very atmospheric. We’ll need to do this part of the island in the day time, it really does look special. Ian’s bus having stopped at the rum shop for a drink on the way home, we arrived back in Prickly Bay well before him, I decided to join Francine and Al for a pizza at the Tikki bar. Nice touch, they were half price! Unfortunately, I had to share it… Ian was back before it hit the table! It was a kind of goodbye party. Francine and Al are hauling the boat out tomorrow and then going home for 2 weeks…we’ll be sorry to see them go, we had a good time with our American friends!