Hiking to nowhere

We have gone out hiking the last two weekends in search of the Covigne River trail.  It should not be this hard to find, but we're 0 for 2 right now.  It's supposed to be a great rugged hike in the national park near us, ending at a waterfall and bathing pool deep in the woods.  Cool, huh?  I'm sure it would be, if we could find it.  We're also thinking this is complicated by the fact that we're in the dry season right now, and so landmarks like stream beds and waterfalls may not actually be there anymore....

Last weekend we did a very hilly 3 hour hike, up to a ridgeline with absolutely no views, due to the dense foliage.  I think we actually found the mythical North Coast Trail, and might have been able to follow it all the way up to some of the northern beaches if we had had time, energy, and more water on our hands.  We did run into a pack of monkey however, which was pretty neat.  We also found some interesting remnants of the American military presence in the park.  Nothing like stumbling upon a creepy ammunition bunker in the middle of the jungle.

Today, after a brief interlude to wander around an old graveyard and church, we found a whole network of trails that led along a dry stream bed.  On the positive side, these trails are totally run-able, and I'd be so excited to do real trails again!  On the negative side, we don't think this was the Covigne trail.   The search continues....

Turkey Day and the TSA

It's that time of year again, when we engage in a time-honored Foreign Service rite:  scrounging up ingredients for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner.   This practice can take several forms, depending on how exotic your current location happens to be.  I rather hope that nothing will top our first post of Mongolia.  In the year before we got there, the community was actually raising live turkeys in the garage of the Deputy Chief of Mission.  Sometimes, I really miss that place.

Overall, we were not in bad shape in Mongolia, because things were so hard to get there that the State Department allowed us to ship a certain amount of food to post, so I carefully planned for enough cranberry sauce, spices, and pumpkin pie filling to last 2 Thanksgivings and 2 Christmases.   I did have to put a bounty out for any form of celery that might have been lurking in Ulaanbaatar, and the community came through with a lead in the end, to my stuffing's relief.   Which brings me to this year....

On the whole, American products are much easier to find here in Trinidad.  Turkey?  It took 3 stores, but we finally snared one.   Cranberry sauce?  If you're wiling to pay $2.50 a can, it's yours!  Canned pumpkin?  That one was proving a bit more challenging.  But one of our friends was heading to the states last week, and he said he'd pick up a few cans for us.

The issues arose when he went to check in for his flight, and was only traveling with a carry-on.  The TSA flagged his bag for liquids and opened it to find our 2 rebellious cans of pumpkin.  Agent #1 was not sure if these cans of pumpkin constituted a threat to our national security and to the plane full of passengers, so he got a supervisor.  Supervisor was also not sure if pumpkin was allowed.  Our friend was asked, is this liquid-y pumpkin filling, or high quality solid pumpkin?  He assured them it was the highest possible quality.  They ran it through the viscosity machine (! seriously, this exists), and determined it could pass.  Victory!  It's the little triumphs that make this life so entertaining....

Tobago Take Two

Sunset over Goat Island and Little Tobago

We've been up to Tobago twice now since we got here.  Though we spent much of those two weekends underwater getting scuba certified, on our last trip we had a chance to enjoy some of the island as well.  Tobago has a completely different feel from Trinidad.  Relatively few people live there, there is little infrastructure, and the water/beaches are much nicer because we're further from the silty Orinoco River currents that hit Trinidad.    We took a day and drove the 15 minutes from Speyside to Charlotteville on the North coast to enjoy Pirate's Bay, one of the nicest beaches in Tobago.  As seems to be the rule here in the Caribbean, we had the place basically to ourselves!

We had a fun mini-hike over a hill and down lots of stairs to the beach.

Backyard bounty

Not only do we have a mango tree in our backyard, it turns out we also have banana trees.  I'm not even sure how many pounds of bananas this is, but I know it's a lot.  Hopefully they ripen at some point....

Run in the Sun

Best race swag ever - doesn't everyone want an ugly sweatband-cum-clock?

Running in Mongolia was hard.  Running in Trinidad is even harder.  This could be why the Caribbean produces so many great sprinters, but has no one above the 400:  you feel ready to drop dead of heatstroke after about a half mile.  I think I have adapted about as much as I am able to after 4 months here, but my family just doesn't run well in the heat, and I am a prime example.    Our running has been pretty minimal since we got here - it's a banner week when I manage to do 4 runs.    All of this is to say that we found ourselves on the start line of a half marathon last weekend rather by accident, and certainly the least prepared that we've ever been before a race.  I blame my boss.

What happened was this:  On a rather slow Friday 3 weeks before the race, my boss came charging into our office and said, "Let's go sign up for a half marathon!  What else do we have to do?"  My colleague and I could not muster up an objection to this, so.... we signed up.  Like a good wife, I roped Andy in as well without his knowledge. 

3 weeks later, we were standing on the starting line at the University of the West Indies at 6 a.m., feeling rather anxious.  At least I was.  Already at 6 here the sun is full up, and we had heard that the course had not a scrap of shade on it.  As an out-and-back, the first 6 miles weren't bad, but we all started to cook as we turned around and headed back under the brutal sun.  Thankfully, the race was well run and had lots of water stops.  Everyone was dousing themselves with bottles of water at each stop.   I was so tired it was tempting to stop and walk, but the longer you remained on the course the more time you spent in the sun, so I kept going.  There were a fair amount of men out racing, but much fewer women.  I ended up 9th among all women with my slowest half marathon time ever, so that tells you something.     As generally awful as the race felt for all of us, by the next day we were already planning for more races.  No one ever said that runners were rational people....

You Only Live Twice

View of Fleming's house on Goat Island

We were on our way out to sea just off the coast of Speyside, Tobago, buffeted by the wind, our boat rocking in unsteady seas.  Our guide, Tanja, was a Swiss master diver with a penchant for adventure; she had lived in Egypt the past four and a half years and was there during the revolution last spring.  She had only been doing her job, and now she was pointing out to us a private house on the island directly across from the hotel room where we spent the past two nights.  There was a legend that came with the large white mansion on Goat Island with its private access to some of the best coral in the world.  Supposedly, it had once been owned by none other than Ian Fleming, the famous British former intelligence agent who went on to write about, you know, that other famous British secret agent.  We would do our first training dive in the same waters Fleming used to snorkel for his daily exercise.

Ecstatic fails to describe our excitement on learning this tidbit.  Could our introduction to scuba diving take place in a more perfect location?  The house dominates the seascape off Speyside.  We had wondered if it had a story as we drove up in the dead of night a couple days before.  And even now, with the roof caving in and the dock falling to ruin, there was an allure to the place, as if there were secrets there lurking beneath the crumbled facade.

Author looking out toward Goat Island from Speyside Inn hotel room

Reality never measures up to the heights of fantasy.  It turns out (according to this website) there is no actual evidence Fleming ever owned Goat Island, but that the idea is more a local legend.  Fleming's more famous estate, Goldeneye, is located in Jamaica.  However, for as little as $3 million, you could own some of the legend that is Bond in Tobago.  The  house is apparently for sale (or at least was in 2006 according to this website).  Personally, I think I'll go with the local legend on this one.  The house looks straight out of a James Bond thriller.  I can picture Scaramanga running through the trees with his golden pistol or Honey Rider emerging from the surf in that famous bikini.  The underwater scuba fight from Thunderball could have taken place in the water just off the shore.

So if anybody asks; yeah, we went diving at Ian Fleming's house.  But don't tell anybody; that's top secret.  And I'll have that vodka martini shaken, not stirred.

The Spice Isle

Andy enjoys his private beachfront.

Grenada is known as the spice island, with many nutmeg and cinnamon plantations covering the hills.  Though after getting walloped by Hurricane Ivan much of the land has been switched to heartier cocoa plants, you simply can't beat the name "the Spice Isle."    We absolutely loved it there.  Andy has already covered our hiking adventure, and I've detailed our brush with running celebrity there, but there was much more to our trip.  Mainly, day after day of nearly empty beaches with soft sand, clear waters, and great snorkeling.  Some of our more memorable moments of the trip:

-  Andy saw an octopus while he was snorkeling, and learned that accidentally kicking a sea urchin really, really hurts.  The last spine finally came out of his foot 2 weeks later.

-  Conch is yummy to eat.  We had conch roti at a great little restaurant right on the harbor.  Yum.

-  Give up any hope of road signs (or at least, accurate road signs) while you're on this island.  We got lost for about an hour on our way home from St. George (usually 15 minutes to our hotel).   Two days later and after consulting several maps, we still have no idea exactly where we were during that hour.

 In fact, every moment that included views like this was memorable.  Can't wait to go back!