I arrived to Martinique to spend 64 days on this French/Caribbean volcanic island. It's a beautiful place, hilly and canyony relief, moist with its tropical forestation. Hot, bright golden or dark ash volcanic sands lining its shores like carpets, disappearing into majestic Blue Ocean on one side, Turquoise Caribbean Sea on the other.
Last devastating eruption of a still active volcano, Mount Pelle, dates back to 1902. Its explosion destroyed one whole town, which then was a capital city called Saint Pierre, the Paris of Caribbean. Therefore the capital now is Fort-de-France, the largest and I think the only city on this island.
Volcanic origin makes the soil rich on minerals and suitable for all sorts of agriculture but the main goods grown even nowadays are the sugar cane and bananas. The cultivation of bananas and its history of use of some very harmful pesticides polluted the environment enough to leave even some governmental departments concerned. The substance called chlordecone used to eliminate pests feeding on bananas contaminated even the sea and its life, making its fruit poisonous and leaving the sites illegal to fish.
The rum industry has got its roots deep and well-established. Rum's ever present scent and dazing effect drags with a day-to-day routine. It's a part of the local culture as well as is the Bélé music and dance, traditionally from Martinique.
Although slavery has been declared illegal generations ago, its deep scars are still visible in form of prejudice, but it seems to be slowly dying out. If there ever were insults shouted at me I can not be sure because of my poor french I could not understand them.
More than two months gave me an opportunity to meet the real locals as well as those unreal. I couldn't resist the chance to dance to the rhythms of Bélé sounds with them, enjoy the sweet reggae and ska vibes. Mitch, my dear friend, who's kind heart enabled a shelter over my head for long enough to bond healthy friendships. He also showed me a garden the end of which was dipped into the sea and which contained a garage full of music loving Rastas and other positive vibration followers.
Beautiful nature full of colors and life. Rocher du Diamant which I climbed to the top watching its inhabitants, red-billed tropicbirds, whose ancestors might remember the blood-wasting naval fights between the French and English. The coconut tree lined beaches where I often found a spot to have it all just for myself. Scaling some boulders inside the jungle, refreshed by fresh coco water full of goodness or climbing the coastal rock above the crystal clear sea. Snorkeling to explore the underwater life hiding within the coral reefs. Or even scrapping some of its early forms off the Victoria Golden Hind's belly. Thanks to Vincent who let me call this, once magnificent sailing vessel, my home for several weeks where I helped with her neverending maintenance and restoration. Surfing at the Plage de Surfer, not that I could, but I tried at very least. Thoughtful dinners and evenings with an old wolf, howling at the moon through our Ti-punch glass fill-ups. The firing chili experience and some of the rich local dishes and sweet fruit... All these to be the highlights and thanks to which I have got more strength to carry on with my journey!
Last devastating eruption of a still active volcano, Mount Pelle, dates back to 1902. Its explosion destroyed one whole town, which then was a capital city called Saint Pierre, the Paris of Caribbean. Therefore the capital now is Fort-de-France, the largest and I think the only city on this island.
Volcanic origin makes the soil rich on minerals and suitable for all sorts of agriculture but the main goods grown even nowadays are the sugar cane and bananas. The cultivation of bananas and its history of use of some very harmful pesticides polluted the environment enough to leave even some governmental departments concerned. The substance called chlordecone used to eliminate pests feeding on bananas contaminated even the sea and its life, making its fruit poisonous and leaving the sites illegal to fish.
The rum industry has got its roots deep and well-established. Rum's ever present scent and dazing effect drags with a day-to-day routine. It's a part of the local culture as well as is the Bélé music and dance, traditionally from Martinique.
More than two months gave me an opportunity to meet the real locals as well as those unreal. I couldn't resist the chance to dance to the rhythms of Bélé sounds with them, enjoy the sweet reggae and ska vibes. Mitch, my dear friend, who's kind heart enabled a shelter over my head for long enough to bond healthy friendships. He also showed me a garden the end of which was dipped into the sea and which contained a garage full of music loving Rastas and other positive vibration followers.
What a delightful read! Those words taste like a real life infused piece of good vintage poetry...
ReplyDeleteI can only wish, you share with us more of your experience, adding some midtones and perhaps shadows.
I don't know if you realize but you already knew that Bele dance back in Oxford. Performed on so many occasions. Exactly the same moves... and without rum! However, then folks tend to call it "Crazy Rado dance", or so :D.
Godspeed, Adventurer!
More is to come soon! And thank you, pleased to read your flattering comment.
ReplyDelete