island time
Discovering St. Lucia, One Accras at a Time
How do you describe paradise? Especially one as complex and historically rich as St. Lucia. The physical beauty of the Island is obvious - this is the draw, right? Even as someone who fancies herself a bit of a wandering ronan, someone who can’t sit still and is most content and regulated in any form of transportation device be it a plane, train or automobile, I was immensely and somewhat surprisingly changed and moved by the people, the food, the interactions - all simple exchanges over bakes or salt fish or rum. So much rum.
I get around. It’s true. I see a lot of things. I meet a lot of new people. It is my greatest joy and privilege in this world. So, when I tell you that I have never quite experienced a spirit like St. Lucia’s, I hope you know that I mean it.
Immediately, as you land on the Island, you are greeted by gusty heat that feels at once refreshing and transformative. You’ll find the sun moving against the sky in ways that aren’t recognizable to mainlanders - it is familiar and easy, like this is where it is happiest during all the rotation business of the planets. The sky is bright blue with perfect, cartoon-like clouds. These clouds, I learned, will randomly just open up at any given moment and let go of every ounce of moisture it is clinging to. It comes as fast as it goes. Yet, the sun never leaves, even in the heaviest downpours. I once met an Eastern European woman who told me that her people had a saying that when the sun was out during a rainstorm that it meant that Gypsies (as she called her people) were dancing with the Devil and trying to tempt him out of something they needed. So many favors must be won from the Devil on account of St. Lucia.
Magdalena, my gracious host, teaching me how to make fried bakes and salt fish for breakfast in her warm and gorgeous home.
The people are wonderful, kind, intense, helpful, and generous. They are also, especially in the Soufriere city limits, occasionally invasive or incredibly familiar - how you decide to describe it is entirely up to how much you like people asking you many details about yourself and your planned whereabouts. Some of this is done to earn a tip, to hustle a little change out of a tourist. But some of it is just plain curiosity and humanity at play. A single woman walking alone garners a lot of attention in the most romantic place on Earth, where everyone is coupled and cooing. But I never once felt intimidated or afraid. I walked with a lot of strangers, sat on the dock and had a few conversations with people about work, life and love. I met the Birdman. I met the Bushman. I felt like they were my guardians after a few days as they were ever present upon my entries into Soufriere. We’d walk together. I learned about their families. They learned about mine. We mused over the smell of accras at the farmer’s market. We huddled under dilapidated overhangs together when the rains came. We went our separate ways when the rains stopped.
These are the kinds of interactions that feel rarer and rarer in life. But not in St. Lucia. This was what I found myself fleeing the resort restaurants and the gated waterfalls and gardens for. Those were all beautiful experiences, still full of wonderful humans. But what I left St. Lucia with, was a reminder that, for me, the most rejuvenating part of travel is who I meet. On this Island, you will meet some of the most beautiful people on this planet. And the food! The cocoa, the papaya, the fish, the fresh coconut.
The purpose of this trip was to really size up how we can best host our guests this July with Nina Compton. There was so much to discover and I feel wholly impatient to get everyone there to continue exploring and discovering. What I know of this place, obviously, doesn’t hold a candle to our guest chef who is a true daughter of the Island. Not to cheapen this newsletter with sales pitchy thoughts, but honestly: this will be a trip like no other.
There are three outrageous rooms perched high atop a mountain and overlooking the ocean still available. I’ll be there. Julie will be there. Nina will be there. There is truly so much for us to do and see and taste - I could write three thousand more words about it all. If you’re even remotely considering it, I urge you to jump in. Let us know, as always, how we can help make this a reality. It’s going to be simply wonderful. I hope you can be there with us to take it all in!
Love, Lisa
A nice man named Desmond insisted on documenting my time at Sulpher Springs. This mineral soak was after a tour of an active volcano and a mud bath. Just a normal Tuesday on an Island, I guess.