August 02, 2011

(St. Kitts & Nevis)

(St. Kitts)…The island-nation of St. Kitts & Nevis (www.stkittstourism.kn; www.nevisisland.com) was a revelation. There are hardly any tourists, at least not in mid-July, the people are wonderful, and the scenery is resplendent. Added to this is the fact that really there is only one hotel, the 380-or-so-room St. Kitts Marriott (www.stkittsmarriott.com), which sits on North Frigate Bay, the bony part of an island that essentially is shaped like a chicken drumstick—although I thought I’d be creative and also suggest that it looks like a pregnant seahorse. The other hotels on the island run to small plantation-style retreats and a number of non-chain properties. Nevis (more of which later) has the celebrated Four Seasons (www.fourseasons.com/nevis), as well as the gorgeous Montpelier Plantation (www.montpeliernevis.com).
I climbed St. Kitts’ highest spot, Mount Liamuiga, a volcano that has lain dormant for 1,800 years. “Liamuiga” means “fertile land” in the extinct language of Kalinago, and the name replaced Mount Misery. It is steep, the one path climbing over rocks and roots, even through a mini-ravine. Green vervet monkeys can be spotted (introduced by the French in the 17th century), and if lucky (as I was) the rare, skulking Bridled quail-dove (see photo above), which I spotted in a side ditch off the path a quarter of the way back down from the volcano’s peak. Once spotted, though, it just sat there, and I got within 10 feet. The path up ends at a small peak of boulders that once climbed gives a great view of the volcano’s crater lake, which I also saw as my plane neared the island’s airport.
The climb was steep, and as I ate my picnic lunch an opportunistic mongoose (another introduced pest) ate discarded scraps. These critters are everywhere, and most people know the story of how they were introduced to many colonised islands essentially to take care of the burgeoning problem of rat (yet again, also introduced) infestation. That plan was a dismal failure, as rats are nocturnal, while mongoose are diurnal, but both species liberally eat birds’ eggs, and the birds themselves if given half a chance. This misguided adventure has seen hideous ramifications to the fauna of the Hawaiian Islands.
The Liamuiga hike is an all-day jaunt, but it is certainly worth the toil. The Dutch island of Sint-Eustatius (aka Statia) can be seen, as can—only very clear days—the French-Dutch island of Saint Martin/Sint-Maarten.
While the Liamuiga area is lush, receiving most of the island’s rain, the southeastern peninsula, which starts at the southern end of North Frigate Bay, is drier. I ran there one afternoon, and the small road is steep, although rewarding. The road loops around at several spots, and lonely beaches can be reached. The view of Canoe Bay was especially beautiful, a rich, verdant, tiny valley appearing bright green. It really looked like something that travellers might attach the proper noun “Eden” to. Three small mountains dot this peninsula that goes to Great Salt Pond and Major’s Bay, where a ferry departs across the two-mile Narrows to Nevis. More ferries leave St. Kitts’ capital Basseterre, a small town that almost is gone in a blink. Several remote beach bars are perfect places to spend a morning, such as the Reggae Beach Bar (www.reggaebeachbar.com) on Mosquito Bay (not as ominous as it sounds) and the Shipwreck Bar (www.shipwreckbeachbarandgrill.webs.com) on a particularly pleasant stretch of South Friars Bay.
The sister island of Nevis was becoming a minor obsession with me. I had run along the peninsula essentially to hop on the 20-minute ferry (the ones from Basseterre take 45 minutes), but the eight-kilometre-long road was steeper than I imagined, so I saw that I did not have sufficient time. On other days, the ferry times all were not convenient, so the nearest I got was a catamaran ride on Leeward Islands Charters (www.leewardislandscharters.com) that sailed past a couple of wrecked ships and the end of the peninsula, to within sight of the tiny Booby Island (named after a genus of bird) and to within 200 feet of Nevis—but not to Nevis. Another time perhaps!
Probably the most interesting historical site on St. Kitts is Brimstone Hill Fortress (www.brimstonehillfortress.org), which sits in Liamuiga’s shadow. It is a wonderful spot, small enough that it all can be seen but large enough that you do not need to see it with anyone else, and, although not immediately noticeable, there are overgrown paths that allow you not to retrace your steps on the relatively steep hills. The British built the fortress (or at least its slaves did), but the French ruled it, too. Both nations, and, a little before, the Spanish, fought over these islands, only seemingly announcing peace when together their desire was to kill off the indigenous inhabitants.
The top of the fortress gives a great view, and some 17th-century graffiti can be seen. A view of the island's cricket ground can be seen, too. My driver, Scotty, claimed he was the closest St. Kitts ever got to a Test Match cricketer for the West Indies. This is a source of shame to the island, another guide, Thenford Grey, telling me that the only player from St. Kitts to do so was Joey Benjamin, who actually played for—gasp!—the England team, and only once for them. Even more painful is the fact that Nevis has produced two or three. As many tourists to St. Kitts are Americans, this painful history needs not even to be mentioned.
Several American airlines make direct flights.