Guyene Francaise - French Guiana

We’re in one of the most sparsely populated countries of the world, exploring the paradise of Ile Royale, 10 miles off the coast! Well, almost paradise: the dense and varied vegetation, the undulations of the small hilly island and the fascinating animal and bird inhabitants make the place feel very special indeed. In fact, without even trying, Ile Royale has given even the Seychelles a run for their money in terms of atmosphere and experience. Our visit to the Iles du Salut have coincided with a massive tropical downpour (it’s the rainy season right now) and getting thoroughly drenched by cool rain in this incessant heat only adds to the magical experience. But here there are one or two things which detract from that first impression of paradise.
Firstly, there are no real beaches so to speak of, and the coastline is rocky and dramatic, which churns up the waves as they approach the shore. Swimming here would be impossible, the sea is so violent, and it’s far from that enticing turquoise blue of just a few days ago; it’s more green which reflects the dense palm forests which tumble down to the rocky water’s edge. But swimming would be a bad idea for the other obvious reason: these are shark-infested waters!
Perhaps that’s why the French established a prison colony here over 160 years ago. Nobody would ever be able to escape…
The tropical rain beats down as we explore overgrown paths, careful to avoid the falling coconuts, and weave in and out of the derelict buildings that remain from the prison. It was such a curious experience to be trekking both off and on road with the few gingerbread-like sandstone paths that actually exist probably having been built for the prison guards by the convicts that had been banished from France.
Ile Royale has a fantastic array of wildlife including the green-winged ara macaw, capuchin monkeys, even pheasants and cats (that had probably been introduced from France), but most of all, agoutis. Not to be missed! This is a species of rodent that resembles a slightly oversized ginuea pig with short front legs and disproportionately large hind legs. Goodness knows how they scamper so bleeding quickly! Their bristly pelage merges from a slate colour at the front to an almost ferric orange behind. In fact, one of us did comment on how it looked as if these agoutis had coconuts permanently capped over their hides. We were also fortunate enough to get a close up of an iguana, and just as fortunate not to have got so close to the lake below that caimans inhabit!. Anyway, it was the greenest iguana either of us had ever seen! Sadly we couldn’t get a picture as Jon stopping Simon in his tracks and almost winding him, just centimetres from where the iguana was perched, caused the iguana to twitch and she fell to her watery bed. The poor creature will have to spend a very long time climbing up again! Deepest apologies.
Out of the three Islands that make up Iles du Salut, the Ile du Diable (Devil’s Island) is the most difficult to access and is notorious for being the primary prison for French criminals of the past. The prisoners were often subjected to a lonesome stretch of time in small and uncomfortable individual brick huts, where they had a sea view from a window comparable to that of an artist’s viewfinder, if they were lucky. Not even a criminal deserves to be cooped up with barely any space to move around, with no escape from the intense tropical heat and humidity, nor from the invasive insects that no doubt caused intense aggravation from their bites, stings and just simply crawling over them. There couldn’t have been a moments peace.
Despite this inhumanity of the past, Devil’s Island remains very beautiful and untouched with coconut palms and rocks being it’s only inhabitants, although rumour has it that there are swarms of irritable bees there these days. We were fortunate enough to get a phenomenal glimpse of this Island from the Ile Royale, where we were. Our time there was just too short, but now we’re moving onwards to explore a sandy beach over 400 miles from the sea…

Trinidad: Port-of-Spain

The very first experience we have of this city is a steel pan band. It’s deafeningly loud, and exceptionally good! Then in the crowds around Frederick St, a local guy called Marcus strikes up a conversation with us about Manchester United. Immediately, Jon senses a ploy which might prove costly in terms of finance and time-management, so we quickly disengage. We walk right up to the north of town, up towards the hills which seem to look like the ridges in northern Venezuela. Well, geologically, they must be pretty much identical, for mainland Venezuela lies just 7 miles to the south of Trinidad.
At the Botanical Gardens we meet Lewis, who offers to drive us up into the mountains, but taxis are frankly a bit more expensive than converse and pavement, so we move onwards, drenched to the skin by a tropical storm, and happy to have found Jonny’s Coconut stall.
We arrive in Independence Square tired and hungry. How about trying the most important and famous street food of Trinidad and Tobago, ’Hot Doubles’? These consist of layers of fluffy pancakes upon which is spooned plenty of chickpeas in a fiery pepper sauce. Wow! There’s a strong chance that these might just be THE taste sensation of our entire expedition, and it’s only the second full day… Hot Doubles are in fact SO tasty that we return to the same stall an hour later for a repeat prescription. Back in Frederick St we manage to stumble upon a food hall where we try Callaloo, a very thick soupy dish made with okra. There’s a distinctive Indian presence here on the island, which extends from the shop owners to the local delicacies. But more of this later.
“Hey London guys!” Well it’s a small city centre, and Marcus had found us again.
“What you lookin’ for?” he drawled, and somewhat foolishly Simon started to answer the question: “Roti”
“Ok, come on!” and with that Marcus had already shot off, parting the crowd and beckoning us to follow. Slowly it began to dawn upon the travelling duo that at some point in this new friendship, money would be changing hands, and not necessarily in the credit column of team Jon and Simon. But what can you do? And after all, part of this trip will be ALL about the people we meet down on the street, and wow, this guys is being greeted by just about everybody he passes, so he must be a very familiar face around these parts. As the walk with Marcus progresses, the questions Jon is asking him start to illicit quite detailed information about his background. Yes, of course he’s a ’guide’ but not an ordinary sort of guide, he is part of an organisation which specialises in connecting tourists in Port-of-Spain with real Trinidadian life. So clearly Marcus had identified us in the crowd earlier and picked us as likely dudes for his services, but then this is a good thing, because what he knows and what he wants to show us is pretty much what we want to know and experience.
He’s served in the US Navy on the Alamo, and now he works with the underprivileged sectors of urban society and builds bridges between life in the ghetto and visitors to the city. But aren’t we on a sophisticated island, maybe part of the developed world, rich in bourgeois western values and lifestyles? Well lets just walk a few blocks east and take a hike down Charlotte St and down into George St. Woosh! We’re back where we love life best, it’s the street scene of the developing world, with its frenetic pace, distinctive aromas (not least of peeled lemons wafting on the breeze), pumping music, market stalls and the hardships of lives lead permanently in the shadow of poverty. And to the east of George St. lies a series of tenements riddled with barbed wire on every balcony. Marcus tells us that here is the no-go area, with gangland warfare, drug deals, gun-point robberies and high speed chases. We’re safe here with Marcus, they all know him, and he has an instinctive feeling for where we can go and when. We even pass a large workshop devoted to the production of steel pans. All this exploration has worked up some pretty strong hunger pangs, and so back in Independence Square we manage to track down a Roti shop, where we ask for the works. This is a whole meal wrapped up in a massive chapati, complete with some tasty pickled mango still on its stone and some chicken with many, many bones…
It’s time to buy some rum before we leave the Caribbean (until April, that is!) and we meet a wonderful elderly couple who run a liquor store: a sophisticated Indian gentleman, who, just like Simon’s dad, had spent his career working for ICI and his wife who is also the Philippino Consul to Trinidad. They have a great framed photograph of the time they met Prince Charles, and it turns out that she had even worked with Mother Teresa when they lived in Calcutta. We exchanged stories for quite some time!

Woah! We're going to Barbados!

It’s almost two years since we flew on Virgin Atlantic, first time around to Mauritius. Well, their version to Barbados was every bit as good! In fact, it was just like the song, and it felt as if we really were on Coconut Airways… Before we set off, there was time in the early hours of the morning to stop by Rockies in West Hounslow for a mind-blowing pizza laden with bird’s eye chillis just to get in the mood: this place is a great find and a must-visit whenever you are travelling from LHR, it’s run by a Sikh family and everybody speaks Punjabi, including all but two of the customers…
During the aircraft’s final approach to Grantly Adams International Airport, it was clear to see below us the turquoise blue sea, the white powder sand, the palm trees and the chattel houses lining the narrow roads. What a perfect image of the REAL Barbados; and pretty soon our task will be to connect with some real Bajan people and experience the way of life on the island rather than the enclaves of the all inclusive resorts…
We touched down at Bridgetown just as the sun was setting, and decided to hit the ground running and explore the capital of Barbados in-depth as night drew on. “’Sup, big man” was the greeting offered to us from a tall and imposing guy on the main street, and he went on “Is there anything I can get you?” Now that was kind, wasn’t it? He gave us the creeps but ’m sure he was just in need a little extra cash or a cigar. Within seconds we were fighting off offers from taxi drivers and well meaning chaps who offered us all manner of diversions and entertainments. But this wasn’t quite what we had in mind. But one thing was very refreshing: here there was no hard-sell, no obvious hassling or hustling; it’s all completely laid-back, chilled out and matter-of-fact. We located a great little row of rum stalls, doing a slow trade with just a few languid hangers-on, but two Polish guys were enjoying the local lager of the island, ‘Banks’ and seemed intent on finding a party. They wondered if we could help them, and the offer of a bottle of Banks seemed like quite a good idea under the circumstances. So we learned that Arek and Daniel were engineer cadets on a large cargo ship bound for Grenada.
Luckily for us another Bajan man had previously directed us to a party that was located just around the corner, down a side street which had a few people walking and cycling, and the occasional loner sitting on an empty plastic beer crate, dwelling on times past. A pool table caught the eye of Arek and so we ended up having a round of that before trundling away in search of the Heineken Bar that was apparently close by, according to the Polish men. They were pretty merry so to say, so I guess they can be forgiven for dragging us far to the outskirts of town to bar that didn’t exist. In fact, had it not been for this wild goose chase, we would never have stumbled upon a tiny, wooden shack that sold fish by day and beer by night, complete with two local Barbadians to pass some time with. The Polish guys didn’t seem to want to stay and hang so they wandered off into the distance in the search of another bar.
Meanwhile, we were invited to pull up one of the metal chairs each and exchange stories of our past trips with one of the Bajan guys who was casually sipping on a beer. This man had certainly been places! He was born in Barbados, but lived in the Bahamas, Canada and France, where he practised and sold his impressive artwork. He used to play football, but these days I think he prefers to chill, since experiencing the agony of a dislocated shoulder and another injury to the collarbone. He mentioned that when in France, the pain returns to where he was injured and stays, but when in Barbados or elsewhere in the Caribbean, the pain magically disappears. Maybe it’s a sign that Barbados is his true home and it’s where he’s meant to be.
The next morning, we headed straight into town to catch a glimpse of Bridgetown by day before checking out some of Barbados’ coastline. We followed some routes along the busy coastal roads, but crossing the roads was no hard task as every driver was so polite that they stopped in their tracks just to facilitate us in traversing the street. We found ourselves strolling along a beach where we found many weird and wonderful things, from sapphire blue and turquoise waters to a sand-smothered motor boat that seemed to have made some sort of emergency crash landing on the shore… Photo opportunity!

As we continued in our strides we noticed that this strip of beach was coming to an end and so we had to return to the road for a short while before getting back to some sand and sea. This section of beach wasn’t so large either and before we knew it we found ourselves scaling the historic walls of a characteristic fortress complete with rusty cannons. Perhaps we were following in the footsteps of pirates some 300 years before? Climbing up over the fence to where the cannons were was definitely our best and only option, since we were approaching a sharp cliff. Little did we know that by this time we had successfully trespassed into the Hilton Hotel’s swimming pool complex and their private beach. I must admit that I had started to feel a little guilty, but the sheer bliss of the beach took me to a whole new level! We stopped for a refreshing dip in the sea after walking a little further in the fine, talcum powder sand.
On the way back to base, it suddenly became compulsory to taste a ‘roti’, this being a mild chicken and potato curry all wrapped in a chapatti. It was really tasty, but it’s in Barbados, so we won’t be stopping there for a while.
This first Island-hop is slowly getting us used to the tropical heat, and it’s almost impossible to remember that cold winter that we just came from. Right now, some of that cold weather would be welcome, I say as drops of sweat from my forehead pounds the keyboard in front of me!

Packing!

"I've done this a million times! It'll be easy!"
How naive of me was that? I have been loading my 70L backpack on and off since the beginning of this week and I still have a little while to go yet! Preparing myself for the inferno of the tropics, the icy storms that characterise the Patagonian vastness, and the deadly wildlife in the Jungles has been no doddle. It would have been a breeze for Mary Poppins, who stores lamps and cups in an almost nanometric bag!
Brain wave! Could I pack some really old clothes to layer myself up in for the chilling loneliness surrounding Mount Fitzroy and the blizzards high up in the Andes? Then when we get back into the blisteing heat zone, I could just chuck 'em or give them to people. What a shame I didn't think of this a couple of months ago BEFORE donating my clothes to the charity shop! Still my old clothes should be in a better place now so I'm not too worried.
The goal is to get my backpack under 8kg as we'll be trekking for virtually 2 weeks with our homes on our backs. A little like a snail really, only they are slower than us (unless we become so exhausted by the end that we remain stationary in recovery! ... So I won't speak too soon).

Anyway let the fun continue and wish me luck! We set out on Sunday from London Heathrow so keep your eyes peeled for more posts!

More Antipodes

Remember last year we were looking at visiting exact antipodes? Well, this year has some pretty neat antipodean links:
Our epic journey from Jodhpur to Deshnok and Bikaner finds its exact antipode on Easter Island!
The memorable time we spent in and around Phnom Penh is the antipode of Lima!
I'm sure there will be some more to emerge as we journey around...

The Final Countdown!

Well, just over a week to go before we set off. It's great to have Alastair signed up following us, but where are the rest of you? Hurry and sign up, for in the next four months we'll be showing you some of the most awe-inspiring sights from the globe's most magnificent continent! 'But what about Asia?' we hear you cry... Well we've already explored Asia for the last two years running, and there are many fantastic lifetime memories, not to mention places we'd love to visit one more time. But on the subject of 'one more time' that's why we're now heading to Latin America: Jon's already experienced real life in Brazil, and Simon's keen to return to Chile, Peru, Ecuador and Cuba. It's a compelling continent, and one which is drawing us back.

You'll see many familiar themes emerging as we travel: food (you can tell so much about a nation by getting to grips with the tastes and textures of its cuisine); cities, towns and villages teeming with life and boasting wonderful architecture; profiles of the people we meet and share experiences and tales with; the many natural wonders. It's to these wonders we now turn, with a small pictorial account of just exactly what it is we're hoping to explore. Hopefully you'll agree that there are some amazing views in store for us!

As well as mountains, we'll be trying to find evidence of early civilisations from the Andes to the Caribbean...

Our plans are shaping up nicely, and they're green!

Forget carbon footprints, we’re going green! In summary, our action is going to revolve around 5 amazing treks: you'll find out exactly where when we've completed them!! And to spice things up a little, we’re adding some perilous mountain-biking at assorted locations, too! There will also be some amazing experiences in the old colonial cities and towns of the continent, and don’t forget this IS Latin America, so there will be tasty food, exotic fruits, lethal cocktails and pulsating rhythms!

Do you remember what we managed to pack into January 2010? Well, if that wasn’t enough for you, January 2011 is going to be even fuller, more adventurous and intrepid! This expedition is circular, starting and ending in the Caribbean, but will there be danger? Well, certainly not from the war-lords or drug barons. We’ll even be avoiding the urban jungle of Caracas where petty crime, express kidnappings, knife and gun assaults are commonplace; none of this phases us. It’s the Colombian fauna high up in the Sierra Nevada mountains that sounds thrilling: deadly rattle snakes, fer-de-lance, bushmaster and coral snakes, plus the jaguar, puma and ocelot! And in April, there’s some recovery time after these Colombian and Venezuelan adventures: Cuba! And here, even the mojitos are green…