BootsnAll Travel Network



Manzanilla: a Walk around the Little Apple

January 7th 2009

This morning I left in no hurry. As they say here: “take your time!” It’s still something I’m working on, although it seemed strange that I had to come to the Big Sis to learn that particular lesson.

Mr. Douglas had made good on his word to hold the apartment which he’d shown me on my first visit to Manzanilla. Back then, I told him that he shouldn’t bother—I wasn’t sure whether I would be back—but he probably guessed that I would be before I knew it myself.

While Pigeon Point is centred around the Nylon Pool, Manzanilla is dominated by the beach. But I was intrigued by what lay on the other side.

Dougie's Guesthouse: apartment

The real attraction in the area is the Nariva Swamp, which is the only place in the Caribbean where you can still find wild manatees.

I dumped my luggage and went over to the bar for a cold Stag, much needed after lugging around the backpack with the damn tent in it. Why had I brought a tent? Had I actually planned to embark on a one-woman expedition? (Note to travellers: don’t bother bringing a tent to T&T unless you know that you have somewhere safe to camp. There are no camping grounds as such.)

A fisherman passed by with four bundles of Calaloo crabs and I did feel myself snap into expedition-mode. The swamp must be close.

Calaloo Crabs

I was the only woman in the bar, but none of the men hit on me, or even took much notice beyond a friendly greeting. However, the tension of Charlotteville was still with me—it was the first time that I had set foot into a bar since leaving Tobago—so I left quickly.

Mr. Douglas had mentioned a tour guide who was living nearby. I couldn’t afford a guide on my own, but I could at least ask him some questions, so I walked down the Old Plum Road which led right past the guesthouse.

There was nobody at home, but I pressed on. The road had turned into a path which looked as if it might lead straight into the swamp. Jungle noises filled the steamy air. Unfortunately—just as things started to look promising—it started to rise and re-acquired an asphalt cover. There were small houses scattered along the verge. I wondered what village this was. Plum Mitan? Biche?

A map would have been useful.

A man washing his car told me that the ‘village’ was called Manzanilla. I must have turned north because if I followed the road further it would take me back to the main road a good way inland from Dougie’s.

“It’s a nice walk,” he said. “Half an hour tops!”

And it was. Warnings about machete-wielding gunslingers suddenly seemed absurd. The Old Plum Road gave way to the Plum Road where I met some people chewing sugar cane. They offered me some and we got talking. They all knew about the manatees, but since I did not have map they could not point out where to find them. The daughter of the man who was wielding his machete to cut pieces of sugar cane for me mentioned something about a lake.

I was intrigued. This trip was taking on some of the qualities of a quest, like the search for the Loch Ness monster.

By the time I said good-bye and walked on, the light had turned golden. It was a peaceful evening and the air was cool. Cocoa trees grew close by the roadside.

What looked like jungle was all private land, used to grow everything from cocoa to coconuts, bananas, papaya, citrus fruit, root vegetables and the odd patch of sugar cane. Agroforestry is what makes most sense here, although there is supposed to be a rice-growing project nearby. In T&T, rice isn’t grown in paddies and draining the land for large-scale agriculture is one of the major problems with managing the swamp.

I had left the city well and truly behind, but the wilderness lay still ahead.

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