by steve, on May 4th, 2009 (
Bees Knees, Union)
Yesterday morning we were up and going shortly after 7am for our island hike. It’s been getting quite warm and humid and an early start seemed the best thing. Afternoon hikes in the hills can be quite exhausting as the rocks heat up during the day making you feel like you’re in an oven.
Going into Clifton we tied off our dinghy outside of Lambi’s Bar & Restaurant and were soon climbing the road out of town. Looking back at the anchorage the sun was still low in the sky but it was already getting quite warm.
We took the road that circled ‘The Pinnacle’ anticlockwise that soon turned into a dirt track – as we expected. At one point we missed a side turn where the path on was literally a path and ended up approaching someone’s house. Their dogs made it quite clear we had strayed too far. Back on the right path we continued our way around eventually descending on the town of Ashton.
Across the valley we could see the ridge and peak that were the target of our walk. Our guidebook suggested there was a track up to the ridge but when we asked locals we were given different pointers. One lady we spoke to, Lorrenta, turned out to have an interesting history. She was born on the island but now lived in Toronto. She had spent 4 years in the Uk training to be a nurse living very close to where we used to live in North London and actually working in the hospital where our children were born. Lorrenta asked the directions off of a friend called Fambo. He not only showed us the way but took us part the way too.
Climbing the ridge turned out to be very hard work. It was less than a 1,000 feet high which made the ascent minor in comparison to some of our recent hikes. However, the heat and humidity were really kicking in making the climb exhausting. Helen felt like she was having heat stroke towards the end of the climb. The views from the top made it all worth the effort though. The path was not maintained and the ridge top covered in cacti so we did have to be careful where we trod. From the ridge we could see Clifton in the distance and could look down on Ashton and an old abandoned half-built marina. The only sounds at the top were faint gospel music (it was Sunday) from Ashton and the odd crash as Iguana fell from their twigs. Unfortunately we could also see a higher peak which I felt compelled to climb. Helen, still suffering from the heat, took this as an opportunity to rest up.
I made my way up this higher peak. At first the trail was fairly obvious but I soon lost it and ended up following goat trails which, unsurprisingly, were made For Goats, By Goats, and hence meant everything above waist height had to be pushed through. Foliage in arid countries is somewhat defensive so I ended up being quite scratched.
I finally made it to the peak and was rewarded with a 360 degree panorama. Going down was worse than going up. I couldn’t even find the route I took going up and ended up slipping and sliding into cacti and thorns. I did find a better way up at one point. My hopes were raised as this suggested I had found the trail down. But I lost that too. Helen had got quite worried at the time it took me to get down again but I made it mostly in once piece.
Back down the trail in Ashton we picked up a couple of cold drinks then walked the coastal road to Clifton. We spent the afternoon relaxing before heading out to the bar on Happy Island to meet up with Anne and Jim for sundowners. They had arrived earlier in the day and are passing through on their way to Grenada.
Happy Island started in 2002 when it’s owner, Janti, built it up from the reef using conch shells and rubble. On it he built a bar which is very quaint. Nowadays he lives on the island with his girlfriend from Plaistow, London. We only met his girlfriend last night as Janti was laid up with a bad back from the latest island extension.
Right now it’s raining hard. Not sure what we will do today. Bees Knees are heading off today on a more aggressive schedule to get to Grenada than we have. We’ll see them again in a couple of weeks.