There is no rainy day blues in St. Lucia. In fact, rain and overcast skies make for perfectly subdued weather, providing ideal hiking and sightseeing conditions. Accordingly, do not pity the "poor weather" in these photos. I am just about to head to a very brutal climb this morning in gorgeous, sunny skies, and I am going to tear through what I expect to be a half gallon of water, if not more. And the rocky climbs, how are they in the rain? In the Appalachians, yes, wet moss is terrifyingly slick. But there is no moss on the rocks in St. Lucia, so the purchase afforded by the wet, rocky slopes is still ideal for climbing.
The photos that follow represent a portion of my day hiking Pidgeon island, eating among the locals, and then some later celebration with Justin and Papi. I walked to Pidgeon island, through the old parts of the city, through beaches and rocky shores. I recharged the batteries with a large platter of fried ocean whitefish and rice, and then spend the next three hours exploring the ruins of the castles and the steep slopes of the rock formations. Legs spent and nightfall approaching, I negotiated a nice rate with a taxi driver, and he sped me back to the lodging.
Indeed, this week has been premised on the unabashed enjoyment of tourism. I cannot recall my ever having taken this approach. But I have slowly absorbed elements of island culture and geography, and know that the true soul of the island is in the countryside with its Patois-speaking villagers, where there are no curfews, there are no resorts, where more smiles and shout outs are the proper currency of exchange.
The photos follow in reverse-chronological order--i.e., you will see end of the evening first and the beginning of the afternoon last.
ating among the locals, and then some later celebration with Justin and Papi. I walked to Pidgeon island, through the old parts of the city, through beaches and rocky shores. I recharged the batteries with a large platter of fried ocean whitefish and rice, and then spend the next three hours exploring the ruins of the castles and the steep slopes of the rock formations. Legs spent and nightfall approaching, I negotiated a nice rate with a taxi driver, and he sped me back to the lodging.
Indeed, this week has been premised on the unabashed enjoyment of tourism. I cannot recall my ever having taken this approach. But I have slowly absorbed elements of island culture and geography, and know that the true soul of the island is in the countryside with its Patois-speaking villagers, where there are no curfews, there are no resorts, where more smiles and shout outs are the proper currency of exchange.
