Eco Trip
In Dominica, between bird-watching,
waterfall dips and rain-forest hikes, you'll barely have time for the beach.
By Gary Lee
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, February
29, 2004; Page P01
The bananaquit was first up. Strutting across the table outside my cabana as
if it were a catwalk, the tiny tropical bird inched almost close enough for me
to touch its lemon yellow belly, then glided off. Anne Jean-Baptiste, co-owner and chief botanist at the Papillote Wilderness
Retreat, dropped her spade with the look of someone who had witnessed this
ritual before. "Ah," she said, smiling. "Your own personal fashion show has
started." And so it had. A blue-headed hummingbird fluttered by next, followed by a
ringed kingfisher with a rust-colored stomach and a peacock spreading its
magnificent span of blue, green, turquoise and brown feathers. Then came the
butterflies, fluttering in a sweep of deep blues, oranges and yellows. The
backdrop of plant life -- from white and pink orchids to heliconias, begonias,
elephant ears and jade vine, with its extraordinary aquamarine flowers -- was a
spectacle all its own. I had come to Dominica for this. With more than half of its 289.5-square-mile
surface covered by rain forest -- including the lush 22,000-acre Northern Forest
Preserve, 17,000-acre Morne Trois Pitons National Park, and more than 350 rivers
and streams -- the Caribbean island offers a smooth entry into the natural
bounty of the tropics. So what if Picard Beach, recommended by locals as the finest swimming spot on
the island, turned out to be a basic stretch of gray sand and palm trees. And
who cared that one of the hottest after-dark scenes on the island is Wednesday
Quiz Night at the Cornerhouse Cafe in the capital city of Roseau. Nor did I mind
that this isolated outpost, perched between Martinique and Guadeloupe, took two
flights and a ferry to reach from Washington. (A short plane ride is also
possible for the last leg.) I had seen my share of Caribbean beaches and
up-all-night soca and reggae parties. And so one day last month my friend Michel and I hopped aboard L'Express Des
Iles in Point-a-Pitre, Guadeloupe, for the two-hour ferry ride. Our plan was to
spend five days hiking and exploring the natural wonders of Dominica. The French outpost of Guadeloupe had provided us an easy landing in the
seductively lush ecology of the Caribbean. Our base was Trois Rivieres, a
seaside village in the shadows of La Soufriere, Guadeloupe's 4,813-foot volcano.
Nearly every cottage had a garden of banana trees, pink and orange flamboyants
and other flora. We stayed with friends, and their hillside home had the kind of view that
winter-weary East Coasters close their eyes and dream about. The regal blue
Caribbean was broken only by the occasional ripple of soft white waves. The
intimate island of Les Saintes, covered with green, seemed near enough to swim
to. With the aroma of flowers in the air, and locals strolling past clutching
baguettes and chattering in French, it struck me at first like a village in
southern France. "No, it's not really a good comparison," said Therese Pusos, who retired and
moved here with her husband, Raymond, from Paris three years ago. "They have sun
for three months a year and we have it for twelve. I will show you the
difference it makes." They next day she did. Piling us into her car, she drove us around Basse
Terre, the fertile, mountainous wing of the butterfly-shaped island. As we rode
along the coast, fields of banana trees, coconut palms and other plants
stretched far. We wound our way through Guadeloupe National Park, a 74,000-acre
rain forest. UNESCO has declared it a Biosphere Reserve, and when we stopped by,
it was easy to see why. It is home to more than 300 species of trees and bushes,
including towering ferns, lianas and palms, as well as wild pineapples and white
orchids. That night at dinner, Therese showed us another advantage of living in this
bountiful region: A cocktail of locally made rum mixed with lime was followed by
a mouthwatering tart of pumpkins, onions and fish yanked from the ocean earlier
that day. For dessert there were fresh papayas from a neighbor's garden. As hard as it was to leave, I wanted to go deeper into the unspoiled
Caribbean. So now we were en route to Dominica. Even from the ferry's top deck, the island's allure was clear. The 4,672-foot
Morne Trois Pitons, a three-headed peak, rose grandly from the center of the
isle. Tiny fishing villages -- the main population strongholds for the island's
71,500 residents -- dotted the coast. Covering the whole place was a thick
blanket of trees, in more hues of green than I could count, from emerald to
kelly, mint, lime and pastel. Christopher Columbus discovered the island in 1493; settled mostly by Carib
Indians, it was colonized by the French in the 1720s. After a protracted back
and forth between the French and British, London claimed it in 1805. In 1979,
the Commonwealth of Dominica received its independence. After our arrival at the small port in Roseau and a 20-minute uphill chug in
a van, we arrived at our hotel. The Papillote is a cluster of simple stone
buildings transformed into a four-acre enclave of exotica by plants, birds and
butterflies. Twenty-eight species of birds and 18 kinds of butterflies have been
spotted here. Three fountains gush warm spring water into outdoor pools,
available for bathing. A stream bubbled just downhill. Our room, one of seven,
was basic, with a private bath and comfortable bed. But never mind. We had come
to immerse ourselves in the outdoors. After a lunch of goat stew, we did just that. Our first stop was Trafalgar
Falls, only 20 minutes away by foot. The walk was easy, over a flat,
well-groomed path. We stopped at a platform that offers a magnificent view of
the twin falls crashing 200 feet down a rock face. Slowly we made our way across
a shaft of rocks to the pond at the base of the falls. In the afternoon heat,
the water was irresistible. And so in we went for a refreshing splash. Only on
the way back did it hit us that, save for three other sightseers, we had had one
of the most stunning attractions in all of Dominica to ourselves. The next day I mentioned casually to a cafe vendor in the town of Trafalgar,
a short walk from the hotel, that I wanted to see more of the island. Within 20
minutes, a local guide named Basil appeared in a black van and negotiated a
price, and we were off. It didn't take long for me to see why the guidebooks
suggest that visitors hire a car rather than drive on their own. For one thing,
the road circling the island wove along curves that made my stomach jump. For
another, there was way too much to see -- from towering gommier trees to vistas
overlooking deep gorges -- to concentrate on the road. Our destination was the Emerald Pool, in Morne Trois Pitons National Park.
After passing the town of Pont Casse, we stopped at a trail. After an easy 10-
minute walk, we were peering into a small lake with a 20-foot waterfall at one
end. The water was surrounded by a thick cluster of trees and reflected the deep
green shrubbery. In the afternoon sunlight, the green shimmered. On our third morning, we were up for more of a challenge and so joined Andy,
the hotel's cook and nature guide, for a four-hour group hike to Middleham
Falls. After a 20-minute jeep ride up and down hills, past cottages lined with
red and orange bougainvillea and other tropical flowers, we arrived at the
village of Providence, where the trail started. We moved at a breezy pace, over a small stream, up a hilly but well-kept path
and then through dense forest. Andy pointed out the foliage along the way,
including palms, gommier trees, wild anthurium and leafy bromeliads. As we
descended toward the falls, the trail turned into rocks and roots. Maneuvering
took a bit of footwork, but never generated more than moderate huffing. After 45 minutes we caught sight of Middleham majestically crashing 280 feet
down the side of a mountain into a steel-blue pond. One of the island's highest
falls, it was an impressive sight. The others in the group dove in, but it was a
bit too frosty for me. Gary Mueller, a Boston entrepreneur who had joined the
hike with his wife, Karen Weltchek, smiled all the way back. "For nature lovers
like us," he said, "this could hardly be more perfect." For a change of pace, we decided to stay in Roseau one night. After a brief
van ride downhill we arrived at the Sutton Place, a small, elegantly furnished
hotel in central Roseau. Straightaway, we set off for a stroll around town, a
throwback to the Caribbean of the 1950s. A few blocks of low-rise buildings were
bunched close together -- small gingerbread houses with peeling gray and pink
paint, concrete bank buildings, hardware stores. Near the port, vendors hawked
T-shirts, wood carvings and rum punch. The sun and the locals' easy manner
seemed to slow time down to a pleasant crawl. After a lunch of fish cakes and stew and a glass of fresh sorrel juice at
Marloe's Snackette on Cork Street, we stopped in at the Cellar Bar, where
bartender Gavin enticed us with his stock of more than 30 rums, including brands
from nearly all the Caribbean islands. He recommended a taste of each. After a
shot of Mount Gay from Barbados, Appleton from Jamaica and, of course,
Dominica's own Macoucherie, I lost count. The next afternoon, we returned to Papillote. A rain shower had swept
through, leaving the blood-colored ginger lilies, dark green elephant ears and
purple orchids glistening. Two bright green hummingbirds were catching a nip of
nectar in the last gasp of sunlight. The soothing warm waters of one of the
natural springs splattered in an outdoor bath. I recalled the pronouncement that Mr. Rochester, a character in
Dominican-born writer Jean Rhys's novel "Wide Sargasso Sea," delivered about the
island. "Too much blue, too much purple, too much green. The flowers too red,
the mountains too high, the hills too near." To that I would add, too short. Five days on this island was way too short.
GETTING THERE: There is no direct service to Dominica from D.C., and
many itineraries have two connections, such as US Airways's $683 round-trip
flight from Dulles, via Charlotte, N.C., and St. Maarten. I flew American from
Dulles to Gaudeloupe, via San Juan, for $590, then took a ferry from Guadeloupe
for $80 each way. WHERE TO STAY: The Papillote Wilderness Retreat (767-448-2287,
http://www.papillote.dm/), above the
Roseau River Valley about five miles from Roseau, has one of the lushest gardens
I've seen in the Caribbean. The rooms could use an overhaul but are worth the
$95 double rate. Meal plans, including breakfast and dinner, are $35 a day
extra. The Sutton Place Hotel (25 Old St., 767-449- 8700, www.avirtualdominica.com/sutton.htm;
$95) is an elegantly furnished boutique hotel in Roseau. Budget travelers who want the full-tilt nature experience should try the 3
Rivers Dominica (767-446-1886, http://www.3riversdominica.com/),
near Rosalie. Rates for ecologically friendly cottages start at $70. In Guadeloupe, La Case A Miel (011-590-590-929-266) offers one- and
two-bedroom cabins in Trois Rivieres. The basic units have kitchenettes and
great sea views, and a lovely shop sells honey products next door. Rates from
about $40 a night. WHERE TO EAT: Celebrate a special occasion at the Sutton
Grille, in the Sutton Place Hotel in Roseau, where a dinner of grilled fish
or chicken, calloloo soup and rum punch goes for around $70 for two. For more
basic fare, try World of Food, inside Vena's Guest House (48 Cork St.,
Roseau). For lunch, a grilled fish sandwich and orange juice cost around $4. INFO: Dominica Tourist Office, 888-645-5637, http://www.dominica.dm/. Or see http://www.avirtualdominica.com/, a
private tourism Web site. -- Gary Lee