Thursday, January 27
I slept quite well.
To be honest, there were only a few things I had to do once I got to Saint Lucia. Highest on the list was visiting a resort called Ladera and the restaurant within it called Dasheene. Ladera is the most famous resort on the island because of its rooms: three walls only as the fourth is open to the view of the Pitons, with full amenities including an in-room pool. I couldn’t quite afford the rates at Ladera but after all the research I had done, I really needed to go and check out the views. I spoke to Cara at reception and she said a taxi driver would come get me by 8 AM. And he did. His name was Kester.
Kester is a taxi driver. He would be my main taxi driver during my week in St. Lucia. And I got to know him pretty well. He was born and raised in Saint Lucia. He is 26 years old. His father is a taxi-driver too. Kester has no desire to leave Saint Lucia. He would later tell me during the trip that his dream is to climb Mount Everest. He has never seen snow in person. Kester loves to drive his guests around his island. He loves to eat, relax, listen to music, and chill.
I told him I wanted to do breakfast at Ladera. “You also tell me what you want to do on this island,” he said, “and we do it. No problem.” I told him I was interested in seeing the the Drive-In Volcano and the Diamond Estate Botanical Gardens, recommendations from friends and my own research. “We do it this morning.” Taxi drivers are very different here compared to, say, Manhattan. Kester loves what he does and loves showing off his island. You tell him what you want to do, you negotiate a price, and he’ll make it happen. “How much time you want for breakfast?” he asked me. I told him one hour. He told me he’d be back in one hour. This doesn’t happen in the states.
The view at Ladera was ridiculous. Beautiful. It reminds me of the first time I walked the city of Ancient Thira in Santorini with Leah. As I entered the bar, I saw the base of both Pitons with the bay and Jalousie Beach quietly laying in-between. The view engulfed my eyes. I failed during this whole week to take a picture that contained both Pitons. I was seated at Dasheene and was transfixed by the view. Breakfast was delicious: an omelet with fresh fruit, bread, and juice. Honestly, it didn’t matter what they served. If they put roadkill on my plate, I still would have sat there happily. I knew I had to check out of my hotel and head to the northern part of the island for a few days, but then I’d be back. I was set on coming back here.
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| Breakfast view from Ladera |
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| Another view from Ladera |
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| Close-up of the volcano fumes |
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| The Drive-In Volcano |
Kester picked me up right on time. We drive to the Drive-In Volcano. That’s exactly what it was. I paid the $5 US dollars to do the half-hour guided tour. There was a short video where I learned more about the island. Saint Lucia sits at the intersection of two tectonic plates. The Pitons are the result of their collisions. Soufriere sits within a twelve-mile caldera. Soufriere translated means sulfur in the air. It’s an accurate description, you can smell it on several occasions during the day. The volcano has been dormant, last erupting about 200 years ago. When I started my tour, I asked the tour guide if they were monitoring activity and had plans in place for evacuation. She answered yes to both. Plans would involve evacuation to the northern part of the island. “I hope it doesn’t erupt during your tour,” she joked. Within fifteen minutes, we were at a viewpoint, staring at bubbling pits of hot liquid. The odor was strong and the fumes were visible. It was a sight to see. “See that there?” She pointed towards a pit close to us. “That’s called Gabriel’s Hole.” She told a story of how tour guides used to take guests into the pits themselves. Once a man named Gabriel was trying to demonstrate how unstable the rock near the pits were by jumping around; he fell into one of the lakes of bubbling hot liquid. He survived and the hole is named after him. “You know,” my guide continued, “he still has the scars to prove it.”
Kester met me at the base of the volcano. We drove towards our next destination: the Diamond Estate Botanical Gardens. The gardens were a gift by Louis XIV to the Devauz brothers as a token of gratitude. The signs there suggest that Napoleon’s wife had once bathed in the waterfall found on the estate. Again, Kester dropped me and said I’d need about forty-five minutes. The gardens were well maintained, full of the island’s indigenous plants. It was a pleasant reminder I was on a Caribbean island away from all the cold and snow in the States. I was happy to soak it all in. In twenty minutes, I found the brilliant waterfall. I did spend forty-five minutes here. Horticulture is not my forte, so I won’t pretend I know what I’m talking about. It was a beautiful though.
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| Waterfalls at the Diamond Estate |
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| Gazebo in the garden |
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| The foliage |
Kester dropped me off at the hotel. I relaxed a bit and packed. I grabbed a quick lunch: a chicken salad, which was quite good. I checked out and told them I’d be back in a few days. And we were off. I told Kester I was going to Cap Maison on the Cap Estate. “I haven’t been there,” he said. “But as long as we have a car, we’ll find it.” It’s over an hour drive from Soufriere in the southwest to Cap Maison at the very northern tip of the island. It was during this drive I saw a man napping on the back of a construction pick-up truck. We listened to Fat Joe and 50 Cent on the way up. Kester pointed out the small towns we passed, including Canaries, a town still affected by the hurricane and still without running water. I saw the damage from the November hurricane. We passed through the huge banana plantations, St. Lucia’s main crop for export. We passed through the capital of Castries. It was within Castries that the traffic picked up and the population looked more touristy. We turned a bend, and there were two cruise ships docked in the bay. “How do you know this is a tourist area?” Kester asked me. “The cruise ships?” I responded. “No,” he replied. “The Burger King.” He pointed to a Burger King on the port. As we continued to push north, the buildings got a little taller and the estates got a little bigger. We got a little lost en route to Cap Maison. We had to ask locals for directions. But eventually we made it. Kester took my bags, I paid him happily, and I told him I’d see him back in Soufriere.
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| View from the Mago Estate Hotel |
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| Soufriere Beach |
Cap Maison is a resort exactly as advertised. Another ridiculous find on sniqueaway.com. I was escorted into the main building, where someone took my luggage. Another immediately gave me a tall glass of white wine. Another gave me a wash cloth to pat myself clean. I was seated at the main desk. I was given Room 38. I was taken on a quick tour of the estate. First though, I was taken to a scale model of the estate. It was a large estate. “Here is the main restaurant.” “Here is our private beach.” “Here are two pools for you.” “But if you really want to relax, there’s also room service.” I was shown to my room and though it wasn’t quite the luxury apartment like the Restoration on King in Charleston, it was luxurious nonetheless.
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| Room 38 |
It was what an island resort hotel should be. A huge shower with all the amenities. A huge fridge. A huge king-sized bed with a flat screen TV. My own balcony. Two, actually. My favorite little subtlety though: my own private cell phone. I quickly changed and decided to roam about the estate. The estate was marvelous kept and surprisingly quiet. The buildings were all in white with red roofs and wood accents. I quickly sat in the restaurant, catching views of the ocean. I saw a dining table on the rocks below.
Ridiculous, I thought. I roamed the lawns. Empty lounge chairs dispersed all throughout. I went and checked out the main pool by the restaurant. Again, the views were breathtaking. I did a little more exploring. I found myself in a vegetable garden. I found a gap in a bush and suddenly found an opening: two lounge chairs facing the ocean and a table with four chairs under a palm tree. Then I saw the view of a blue sky, blue waters, and Pigeon Island jutting out from the mainland. I found my “favorite spot” on the estate. I hopped on a lounge chair and lounged there. I watched the sunset there. And it was a great one.
I changed for dinner and went to the restaurant. I would be sat at what would be called “your table.” Every time I ate here, I’d be asked, “You want your usual viewpoint at your table?” That’s the life. Dinner was elegant. I started off with the freshly cooked breads. This was followed by a shot-glass of delicious gazpacho. Then came the island seafood chowder. It was as good and possibly fresher than what I had in Charleston. Then came the main dish: the duck confit with pommes Anna and plantains. This dish reminded me how much I missed duck. Extremely tender. It should’ve stolen the dish, but equally great were the pommes Anna (they must have used a ton of butter) and finely cut and fried plaintains. A lava flow was the icing on this gluttonous cake.
I relaxed the rest of the night (obviously, it had been a stressful day). It was gloriously therapeutic surfing through eighty channels with absolutely nothing on. I showered. I went to bed.
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