Mt. Pelee Teases Us

12.01.12

Mt. Pelee peaks through

Perhaps it was the wispy cloud veil obscuring her face that piqued our curiosity, but beckon us, she did.  On Thursday we found ourselves on the local bus wending our way up a flank of Mt. Pelee.  Though warm when we left, by the time we got to the end of the bus line, the temperature had dropped noticeably as we entered the lower layer of clouds. 

 

Trekkers

We walked a kilometer or two to the end of the road then, still in the clouds, started walking up the path.  We still had another kilometer and a half to the top.  We asked a young French couple clad  in sturdy hiking boots tromping down the path how it was.  The young woman said, “Ard.” 

“Oh, hard,” we responded. 

 She then looked at Darrell’s flip-flops and commented in plain English, “You are crazy.”

We got the message.  We weren’t quite prepared for this trek.  Ah, well.  We justified not continuing by the fact that we were completely fogged in and would have no view.  We’ll just have to come back, we decided.  Still and all, it was a wonderful walk with fantastic views along our way of the Atlantic on one side and the Caribbean on the other.

There's the Atlantic!

We walked back down to the bus stop and waited.  And waited.  No bus.  We walked the two kilometers into Morne Rouge, the last town on the route.  No bus. 



School kids in the town of Morne Rouge

We continued walking through town.  No bus.  We walked on the narrow two-lane curvy road for about four kilometers.  No bus. 

Still walking and hoping for a bus!

Bruce, who said his calves were as tight as hardballs said, “I’m calling a taxi.”  He and I walked up to a home with two hulking chained-up dogs that, judging by their barking and snarling, did not take a liking to us.  A shirtless man in shorts with a towel draped over his shoulders came out. 

Bruce said, “Bon Jour” and turned to me.  My turn.  I asked the man if he had a phone and that we needed to call a taxi for six people to St. Pierre.  He said a few things that I didn’t really understand, and then I figured out that he was offering to take us in his van.  His wife, who spoke a bit of English, came out.  I asked her about the bus and she said it does not run in the afternoon.  Apparently, what goes up does not come down après midi, after lunch. 

The man put wooden benches in his van for us and off we zigzagged the last six kilometers down the road to St. Pierre.  As it always does when traveling, it all worked out.  That night, we all slept well, in spite of our aching calves.   

Au revoir, Mt. Pelee

 

Au revoir, Mt. Pelee.  You had your fun with us.  BUT, to paraphrase our famous former California governor in another of his roles, “We’ll be baaaaahk.”

 

Dave enjoying the view of the anchorage