Late December, 2009 - Our days in Carriacou were divine. Paradise
Beach is a magical spot, and our little apartment on the beach at
Adam's Eve was lovely. One happy day dreamily melted into the next.
The nights were another story, however. Christmas was fast
approaching, and Parang, the local three-day Christmas music festival,
was in full swing. Each evening, as the sun began to set, the noise from
the stadium nearby where Parang takes place began to rise. Parang is
a music festival that features both professional Caribbean bands and
local garage bands. One of the highlights of Parang is the local band
competition. One after another, local bands starring kids and teens
came to the microphone and sang "Angels We Have Heard On High"
while fans and judges decided whose rendition was the best. The
repeated wailing of "Glooooria gloooria glooooria" by each of these
bands, not always sung in tune, wore us down after a while.
To top it off, the concert came to us in delayed stereo. We could
hear the live music, the screams and cheers of fans and the
raucous shouting of the announcers directly from the stadium, but
at the same time the bar below our bedroom decided to play the
radio broadcast of the show at top volume too. There was a one
second delay between the live show and the radio broadcast, and
the resulting cacophony was painful to listen to. Hardly a brief
celebration, we discovered that Parang goes on well into the wee
hours of the morning.
The bitter icing on this noisy
nighttime cake was the mosquitos.
Few buildings on the island have
screens, but you absolutely have to keep the windows open or you will suffocate in the intense
heat and humidity at night. We learned the hard way that the beds are decorated with
mosquito nets for a very good reason. It is pure folly not to use them. Not hearing any
mosquitos when we turned out the lights (Parang was too loud!), I slept without a top sheet and
kept my nose towards the window in hopes of a breeze. A few hours later I had so many
mosquito bites that I looked like I had chicken pox.
Fortunately, the days were exquisite,
making the hot, loud, itchy, sleepless
nights worthwhile. We could never get
enough of the beautiful beaches and
scenery around us. Besides, no one
ever said that paradise was free.
Strolling the beach one afternoon, we came across a
man carving up angel fish fillets. He worked steadily,
chopping the heads and tails off with a cleaver and
expertly separating the meat from the skeleton.
As we walked all over the island we ran into lots and lots of goats. Most had a
leash that dragged on the ground behind them, and all of them ran free. Our
hostess at our apartment explained that when she was a little girl in the 1950's
and 60's, most islanders had a vegetable garden and kept goats for milk and
meat. But because of the change of culture and ideals that has swept this
island since then, goats are now kept more as pets, not for milk or meat, and
they are allowed to run free all over the island. Their incessant munching
makes it impossible for anyone to maintain a vegetable garden without
spending a fortune on fencing. Oddly, islanders instead pay a premium for
imported produce and meat.
Wandering cows are
another challenge. Our hostess had
done some lovely landscaping beneath
her balcony, but a group of cows came
in off the beach one morning, got in her
gate and ate all the fresh yummy tops
off of every plant. Her pretty yard was
still in recovery. Her bananas were just
about to ripen, however, and we
carefully closed the gate behind us each
time we came and went from the beach.
Unfortunately, the bananas were still two
weeks from ripening and we weren't
able to try them.
Being a desert island, Carriacou
is suffering a terrible drought
these days. Water is collected in
cisterns on the rooftops, but there has not been enough rain to keep
the cisterns full. A water truck delivered water to the house next door
one day, and we watched in fascination as water was pumped from
the truck into the cistern.
Away from the main town of
Hillsborough, shops and stores
look a little different. Searching
for groceries, we were pointed to
a building that gave no outward
indication that it housed a little
food store. Inside we found all
kinds of staples and a very
friendly proprietor.
Hillsborough itself has a main
street and a few side streets.
We got a few shots of town early
Sunday morning when most
folks were still sleeping off
Parang.
The most scenic spots are out of town, however, and we enjoyed one
stunning walk after another. This aspect of the Caribbean is what
tropical dreams are made of.
To our happy surprise, when we journeyed on to Union Island,
the neighboring Grenadine island in the country of St. Vincent &
The Grenadines, we continued our travels in dreamland.