From Grande Soufrière to Mount Pelée
Guadeloupe
We left for these islands in love with the wind,
Over there, in the Caribbean where the air has scents of sugar and vanilla,
Under the tropical sun and white sand beaches,
Where the warm blue wave will rock us in the Caribbean Sea.
Bonjou nou konten wè zot’, Hello, we are delighted to see you.
Under the breezes to the song of the familiar trees
I saw the horizons where the frigates hover
And breathe the wild incense of the thickets
In its forests full of flowers and aromatics
At the hour when on the peaks the din lights up
An owl meowed in the heart of the mountain
And I listened thoughtfully at the foot of the black volcanoes
The bird that the song of the night accompanies
Oh charm of approaching in a dream the native soil
Where the song of the long sad filaos cries
And to see again in the depths of the western evening
Floating the pink moon on the top of the palm trees!
Excerpt from the 1911 poetry of Daniel Thaly,
described as the "Prince of West Indian Poets"
Calucaera, "the island of beautiful waters", with the appearance of a butterfly on the Caribbean Sea,
It was Christopher Columbus landing at Sainte-Marie in 1493 who would call you Guadeloupe,
In reference to the monastery of Santa Maria de Guadalupe in Extremadura left behind,
Here Grande-Terre and Basse-Terre are separated by the narrow arm of the Rivière Salée.
On the tip of Colibris, the cross sits on the Morne Pavillon belvedere, facing Marie-Galante,
On the "Island of a Hundred Mills" at the Domaine de Bellevue, the king is agricultural rum, without sulfur,
In a sandy setting, the majestic cliffs hide "the Gueule Grand Gouffre",
A natural arch and its mixture of colors between turquoise water and bewitching white foam.
To the north of Basse Terre in the botanical garden of Deshaies, the king is Ceiba,
This 30 m high red cheese tree, with white and soft wood, easy to cut like cheese,
Its fruits covered with down also earn it the name "cotton wood" or Java Kapokier,
Beside it, the giant Banyan stands on its aerial labyrinth of branching roots.
In the National Park, the Carbet Falls are among the most impressive waterfalls,
This river owes its name to the "carbets", these large open huts serving as a crooked shelter,
The first fall makes a jump of 115 m, the second fall of 110 m, and the best known,
After a 20 m waterfall ends in a magnificent circular basin, with refreshing water.
It is by the north face that we will make the long climb of "La Soufrière", calm,
In good weather, in 2 hours the path of the Ladder, under 30 °, will lead us to the "Old Lady",
Still spitting its sulfurous vapors from its eruptive vents sometimes in storms,
Descent by the Savane des Mulets with stop at the "Bains Jaunes de St Claude" for a dip.
After climbing, swimming in the waves of Capesterre Belle-Eau, at Roseau beach,
With its golden, almost pink sand and its many coconut trees at the edge of the waves,
At the Sainte-Anne market, hello to the "porcelain rose" and the flattened flower of the red-orange balisier,
Then tasting of the "cacador", these "ouassosses" or freshwater shrimp with highly prized flesh.
In Saintes everything is rest, the sea, the blue of the sky,
Everything bathes in a calm that the sun filters,
In Les Saintes everything is beautiful, we love this comma on the wave,
This insignificant exclamation point of the poem of the world.
30 minutes from Trois Rivière by boat, the arrival at Terre-de-Haut Bay deserves its reputation,
With a view of the Sugar Loaf, sailboats anchored in the bay and small colorful Creole houses,
For a panorama of one of the most beautiful bays in the world, the Morne du Chameau is worth the climb,
At the Fort Napoléon museum, in the middle of the botanical garden, gray or green iguanas are legion.
"Butterfly Island" was a large lucrative sugar "cane plantation" from the 17th century,
Where slaves worked by hand, tirelessly, in the fields of nourishing sugar cane,
From Pointe à Pitre, the economic capital, to Basse-Terre the administrative capital,
It is at the Schœlcher museum that we find the route linked to slavery and the slave trade.
Martinique
Oh Martinique, pearl of the Caribbean, you are a waking dream revealing your charms,
The coconut trees dance on the edge of the beaches, the flowers are fragrant without noise,
The Creole houses, with bright colors, tell the story and traditions,
The gourmet and friendly markets, offer flavors and sweet sensations.
In the company of Gilles the Breton, on his little "Vagabond", we will leave for the sun ride,
Between the islets of Le François with evocative names, Frégate, Lapin, Pelé, Loup Garou or Oscar,
On a calm sea, turquoise blue, in the bay of Robert stop at "l'Îlet Chancel",
For the first baptism with "rhum arrangé", feet in the water, pure happiness, lucky you.
After 3 hours of cruising, a new stop, in the "Josephine bathtub" with white sand,
Doubt remains as to whether the Empress Josephine, originally from Trois Îlets, bathed there,
Between Oscar islet and Thierry islet, a new stop for a second baptism with arranged rum,
On Madame islet, those from Le Robert picnic in front of the coral reef with rolling waves.
Towards the North Caribbean, the long 12 km stretch of land has jagged cliffs,
La Caravelle is also punctuated by large bays or small coves between Tartane and La Trinité,
At its tip, close to Anse du Bout, a large rock bears the name of "Lapin islet",
Monitored by the weather station overlooking the "Devil's Table", at water level, serene.
"Treasure Bay", a smuggler and slave trader built the prince's "Dubuc Castle" there,
On the mangrove path with its impressive tangle of mangrove roots,
Meet the "tourlourou", this crab with a red shell and black cap, a succulent dish,
The "cé ma faute" or violinist, gives the impression of playing the violin with its large claw.
The waves perform a capricious dance, intertwine and separate according to the seasons,
Where the sandy path to Sainte-Marie is veiled and revealed, the "Tombolo" leads to the two nipples,
Formerly a land of sugar cane or animal pasture with its story of "Manman Dlo",
Where a mermaid woman charmed men and took them with her to the depths of the waters!
Opposite, emerging from the waves, beaten by the Atlantic, the infamous "Devil's Table",
The West Indian legend attributes evil spells to it, this is where the she-devils and the hired people,
Those who made a pact with the devil, organized their banquets and orgies,
Only the frigates with the long forked tail land on this enormous rock, today.
Towards the Pointe des Salines, to the south, "La Trace des Caps", leads to the "Savanne des Pétrifications".
Unusual panorama, arid land, savannah vegetation burned by salt and imprisoned wood,
On this barren expanse of the cove of the Écluse, the wood has been transformed into petrified stone,
Vestige of a forest engulfed by lava, the collectors acted in full spoliation.
Facing Morne Larcher, a mysterious volcanic block springing from the sea,
The "Diamond Rock" with its glorious past, was a high place in the history of colonization,
Fortified by the English in 1804 by installing a hundred men there, this stone ship,
Was recaptured in 1805 by Villaret de Joyeuse, a Gascon native of Auch, sent by Napoleon.
In 1830 a clandestine slave ship dropped anchor in the vicinity of the Anse Caffard of the curse,
The boat was completely destroyed where the cries and sinister cracks tore the night,
Fifteen busts of 2.50 m high, will honor during the 150th anniversary of the abolition of slavery,
Recalling the 300 African slaves of which only 60 women and 26 men would survive.
Welcome to Grand Rivière in this small fishing village of the "end of the end", sheltered from Aeolus,
Where the art of fishing aboard the "gommiers" allows you to taste the blaff lobster with Creole sauce,
Close to the town, in the Habitation de Fond Moulin sugar cane, coffee, cocoa and indigo were cultivated,
The ruins of the mansion shelter the spirit of the slaves guarding their famous loot.
In the early morning, despite his perpetual ribboned hat, road for the climb of La Pelée,
Direction Morne-Rouge to join the Sentier de l'Aileron, the most direct but not the easiest,
We will stop at the Croix Dufresnois, at 1223 m altitude for the view of the bay of St Pierre,
In all more than 3 hours by the plateau of Palmistes, to reach, at 1,397 m, the Chinois de pierres.
It was on May 8, 1902, around 8 a.m., that Saint-Pierre was shaken by a violent detonation,
A fiery cloud rushed down the slopes of Mount Pelée at lightning speed,
In a few minutes the city and its 30,000 dead were nothing more than a vast smoking cemetery,
Cyparis, one of the only survivors, imprisoned, owed his survival to the walls of his dungeon and their orientation.
Near Ajpoupa-Bouillon, the "Gorges de la Falaise" offer a magnificent hike
In the river famous for its "z'habitants" crayfish, succulent in fricassee,
After a sporty descent over 100 m of vertical drop, ladder passages test the resistance,
Before finishing at the bottom of the canyon under the torrents of water from the cascade of well-being.
Between St Pierre and Le Prêcheur, the "Tombeau des Caraïbes" memorial,
Recalls that Martinique was inhabited for nearly 1000 years by fierce Carib Indian warriors,
Disappeared around 1658, throwing themselves from the cliff to avoid the yoke of colonization,
The Carib Chief launched, "the Mountain of Fire will avenge me", as a curse!
At the foot of the Piton du Carbet in the "Jardin de Balata" we will enter the kingdom of hummingbirds,
Where thanks to a staging by a great landscaper, the artist has created a little paradise,
In this open-air botanical museum we will drink with our eyes an enchanting cocktail,
Of porcelain roses, heliconias, bromeliads, and hibiscus, a universe full of colors.
Between Shrove Sunday and Ash Wednesday in Martinique, for 4 days the "Foyalais" go wild,
A huge "vidé" or wild procession, wanders through the feverish streets of Fort de France,
Street orchestras to the sound of "ti-bwa" drums unleash the passion of dancing,
The devils, devils and imps, all dressed in red, invade the city and sing.
After the official of Vaval's death, the "guiablesses" parade announcement in black and white, graceful,
Wearing their large mourning dress and their pistachio cornet hat of the merry widow,
The death of his "Majesty Vaval", cremated at night on the seafront provokes their tears,
When the "big-syrup-negroes" glistening with molasses and sweat frighten the spectators.
Before departure, last tribute at the airport to Aimé Césaire, poet and politician,
Between 1945 and 2001, he was Mayor of Fort de France and Deputy of Martinique,
Tireless builder of the universality of human rights of a "negritude" without venom,
He wanted, until his death in 2008, to recommend to have "the Strength to look to Tomorrow".
Farewell Madinina, "the Island of Flowers"
Your sweet perfume has embalmed our hours,
Under your azure sky, your rivers sing, your forests murmur,
Your proud mountains, your beaches of light, Goodbye whispers to me.
My heart, preserve me from all hatred
Do not make me this man of hatred for whom I have only hatred
For to confine myself to this unique race
You know however my tyrannical love
You know that it is not by hatred of other races
That I demand of myself a digger of this unique race
Extract from the "Notebook of a return to the native land"
Guy PUJOL says l’ARIÉ….JOIE