Strange Shenanigan Day

Dumb act of the day: hiking for two hours in flip flops.

TLDR: I saw some waterfalls, did some unprepared hiking, and accidentally took a tour of the island by bus. Look at my map page.

Jem kicked me off the boat yesterday to to some exploring of the island. I decided to go see Annandale Falls, which are the closest waterfalls to St. George's which is the town in which our marina is. Jem gave me instructions on how to find the nearest bus stop, and warned me that the buses were minibuses and were quite crowded.

The way a Grenadian bus works is that you walk along the street, they honk at you to get your attention, you signal where you want to get on, signal when you want to get off, and pay your fare when the bus drops you off. It's also quite difficult to speak to the driver when the bus is moving, because the driver plays intensely loud music. Furthermore, the buses go quite quickly through tight turns, so you're mostly just concentrating on not falling on someone. However, I did not know any of these facts. And so, I walked to where the bus stop was supposed to be, There wasn't a sign. I thought, maybe this is the wrong place. Then a black van drove by, honked at me, and a guy asked me if I wanted a ride. There were approximately twelve people sitting in rows in the van. The van was smaller than Yellow Man's taxi. I asked, "Is this the bus?" He replied, "Get in quickly!" The chances of getting kidnapped were 50-50, so I got in. The bus then snaked through way too many alleyways before arriving at the bus terminal where I was supposed to switch buses. Pros of the trip: I saw some nice fishing boats. Cons: I had no idea where I was going until a nice lady told me to get off. A lot of yesterday was saved by nice ladies.

The bus driver's assistant (the man who told me to "get in quickly") told me to use bus number 7 to get to Annandale Falls. I got in the front seat this time next to the driver (remember, this is essentially a big van) to so as to not get squished. The driver of bus number 7 was quite nice, and told me about the various trees and foods of the island. Fun fact: Grenada's main economy is tourism followed by agriculture, in part. They grow a lot of nutmeg, which is exported to Europe. Their national dish is called oil down, and is made of breadfruit (which supposedly tastes like sweet potato) and various meats and vegetables, all stewed in coconut milk. After driving through a beautiful mountain road overlooking lush valleys and villages, driver number 7 dropped me off at a crossroads and told me that Annandale Falls was there. I got off, and I walked, and walked and a bit more until a small sign for the falls came into sight, accompanied by an equally small sign that said "closed." The nice ladies  who were hanging around there told me that the nearest waterfall was called Seven Sisters, and to get there, I had to go back to St. George's and then take bus number 6. I walked back to the junction, the gentleman nearby told me to take a bus going one way, a bus came from the other way and told me they were going to St. George's. I wasn't sure whether or not I was making a huge mistake but I got in because it was only 10:30 and I had nothing to lose.

After a total of four buses and three hours, I finally made it to a sign that said "Seven Sisters." I walked 10 minutes down a dirt road then arrived at a building, where the lady told me to walk down the road and pay at the brown building, then turn left. I walked for another 10 minutes, passed a sleeping cow, saw a building that was vaguely brown, the people there told me to keep going, I walked a bit more, found a browner building that was deserted and filled with picnic tables, started walking uphill, heard "Yo! Wrong way! come down!", walked down, the nice lady told me to walk but turn left at the mango tree, I didn't know what a mango tree looked like because there were no fruits on any trees, saw a small trail in some high grass to the left, walked down that path because again, I had nothing to lose, walked up a butterfly- and mosquito-filled hill, saw a closed bar and a sign for the falls pointing towards a path in a forest, and walked down the clay path for 45 minutes in flip flops. Some thoughts happening at that moment:

• I'm alone in the middle of the woods, if something happens, it'll take days before they find my body.
• That's the third butterfly that flew around me. I am the Queen of the Insects.
• I now have approximately 27 mosquito bites. If I don't twist my ankle and fall, it'll be dengue fever that gets me. I no longer want to be Queen of the Insects.
• Oh, that clump of banana leaves looks like it's been flattened by a very large animal. Fantastic.
• I really hope that footstep-like sound was just palm leaves hitting trees.
• Oh, the bamboo is creaking again. I wonder if it will fall on me.
  

I passed what looked like an abandoned Arbre en Arbre. That's not creepy at all. 

 

And then I saw it! The waterfall!

 

Look at her. Beautiful. Stunning. Amazing. All I need to do to get to it is walk on a muddy path along a cliff side. In flip flops. (I did it because Mama raised a fool with no sense of self-preservation.) And then I took a swim in the water that was cloudy so I couldn't see if there were fish or giant salamanders or brain-eating amoebas in there. The water was refreshingly cold and washed away all my sunscreen and mosquito repellent, but the mosquitoes had bitten me anyway so it didn't make much of a difference. I didn't touch any salamanders, and as for the amoebas, we'll see in a few days if my brain is intact.

 

 

The hike back was much faster, because walking uphill means that I don't need to worry about flip-flops falling off. There were some people at the brown house, but I didn't want to pay the fee that they had asked me to pay, so I just said hello instead of asking about buses back. I then had a nice chat with the people who had helped me find the path to the falls. It turns out that I had just seen the first two and there were in fact seven, hence the name. I was not, however, ready to make the hike again, and so I decided to walk on. I waited for a bus to pass, but there were none. I couldn't walk back to St. George's; the bus ride had been longer than half an hour and again, I was in flip flops. Then I remembered that the driver of the bus that had gotten me here had said that I was going to Grenville. So Grenville must be a nearby town. Maybe I can walk to Grenville and catch a bus from there. (I had no idea where Grenville was. It turned out to be quite far.) 

 

After a few minutes, a nice British lady passed me and offered to drive me to Grenville. Again hoping that I wasn't being kidnapped, I hopped in the car and joined her, her friend, and a dog named Beebee. (No idea how to spell that, I once had an art teacher called M. Beebe and was pronounced the same way, but I find that the double double E is better for a dog name.) The lady's name is Annie, and she runs a nice hotel in the north of the island. Apparently, the view is amazing. Here's a picture of her business card.  Annie decided to drop me off at Sauteurs, which is another town whose location I didn't know. Grisly fun fact: during the French colonization of the island, some of the native Caribs jumped off a cliff rather than be captured, hence the town name. 

After a very long drive, I finally got on bus number 5 in Sauteurs, profusely thanked the nice lady, and was on my way for another bus ride of indeterminate length. It turns out that this bus ride was absolutely beautiful. We went along the east side of the island, on a road along the coast, with the Atlantic ocean on one side and green mountains on the other. I saw a lot of houses on the mountain supported by pillars; it was quite cool. A schoolkid with a blue lollipop slept on my shoulder for about an hour. Then we snaked through the mountains before finally arriving in St. George's. Then I finally got on my last bus of the day and arrived at the marina. I had left the waterfall at 1, and I arrived at the boat at 5.

That evening, Jem and I ate tacos with Jem's friend Allan. Allan is a Californian catamaran cruiser. He will be coming with us to visit the southern part of the island in the next few days. Topics of discussion included planes (both Jem and Allan are retired commercial pilots), types of gin, and tortoises. Fun fact: the oldest known living land animal is Jonathan, a giant tortoise living on Saint Helena, which is the island on which Napoleon died. Jem visited Jonathan when he was there. Jonathan has therefore known both Jem and Napoleon.

 

 

Today, we fix up the boat and get some supplies for our departure tomorrow. Should be less adventurous than yesterday, but if something happens, I'll keep you posted.

This was too long. I need to learn how to edit properly.