Thus far, the image I’m painting of Grenada is of tropical lushness, with supersized vegetation and extravagant blooms. Indeed, many of the island’s attractions are decidedly green – in color if not idealism. Take for example Grand Etang, where we managed to sneak in a visit before rains came (and had to cut it short because we left the top down on our Samurai). Driving across the island, our breath was taken away by the ferns and vines clinging tenaciously to hillsides. By rampant bamboo. By the petite houses, strewn across the valleys like multi-colored dice to land next to heavily-laden banana trees. And that’s just the drive over.
Grand Etang is a volcanic crater lake, reposing in the midst of Grenada’s rain forest. The lake has an air of mystery about it. No one swims in it. No one canoes on it. No one fishes it. You just walk around it and gape, on trails covered in nutmeg shells. Sure, I could do with a little less of the cruise ship crowds hanging around the parking area and giving the resident vendors their raison d’etre. But aside from that, it’s a remarkably pristine site.
Clouds roll in over Grand Etang, the crater lake in the rain forest. Meanwhile, a tiny blue house rests in a cloud-shrouded valley in Grenada's interior.
But while Grand Etang is wet – with low-hanging clouds covering the mountaintops -- the fringes of Grenada are drier, especially the southwestern side of the island. And the variety of ecosystems is part of what makes this island so remarkable, for not only is there verdant rainforest and active geology, but there are some pretty great beaches as well. And if you know anything about me, it’s all about the beaches!!
Our beach adventures on Grenada started on Morne Rouge, which had been my favorite spot on the island. Tucked just one bay south of emblematic Grand Anse, it’s smaller and quieter. High green hills surround it; sea grapes, palms and white sand fringe it; and clear blue water fills it. With just a handful of guest accommodations (Mariposa and Gem, among them) and one small, very casual restaurant (Sur La Mer), it’s a wonderfully mellow spot. On the Sunday that we were there, it had a slightly more active vibe, as that is when the Grenadians typically enjoy their beaches as well. So in addition to a handful of visitors, there were Grenadian families bringing their picnics and music to add to the scenery.
The colorful Mariposa resort on the hillside has a Mediterranean vibe, but the beach at Morne Rouge is strictly Caribbean.
However, midday we were forced to cue the “Jaws” music … dun dun dun dun dun dun … as a hideous yellow catamaran, it’s decks full, made the turn into the bay. Sure enough, the cruise ship daytrippers had arrived, and not only did they crowd the sand, but they drove the beach vendors out of hiding as well. We had selected a prime spot near a sea grape tree in the middle of the beach to enjoy our day. Not only did that lousy catamaran anchor right in front of us, but the cruise ship people, drawn to each other by some inexplicable magnetic force, plopped on the sand in clots all around us. The pretty view was spoiled; the island vibe queered. But a little Carib (readily available from beach vendors) has the ability to salve a lot of ills.
And lucky for us, the daytrippers left, while we got to stay as long as we wanted and didn’t feel constrained by the “we already paid for it on the ship” attitude which evidently prevents these visitors from taking advantage of all the lovely food and drink available on the beach (like lunch at Sur La Mer). Until the second boat came…
The good news is that there is we rarely saw more than one ship calling per day in Grenada, and they were smaller ones at that. Some days, there were none. The intrusions were seldom very lengthy. And we knew where to go to get away from them (and had the means to do it).
A sailboat glides just off the west coast of Grenada while we enjoy the peace of Pink Gin Beach.
One beach to get away from it all was Pink Gin Beach, which we visited for the first time on this trip. Located just west of the airport, the beach is hemmed in by coral and therefore not accessible to booze-cruise daytrips. We parked at the Aquarium restaurant, walked down to the beach, and picked a likely spot near the sea grapes. The sand here is a mixture of salt and pepper colored sand – mostly salt. The water has a dozen dazzling shades of blue. And off in the distance to the north, you can see St. George’s harbor. It was a lovely spot to spend the morning, alternately dozing in the sand or splashing around in the sea. We’d hoped to have lunch at the Aquarium, but since it was Monday, it was closed, so we hit the road looking for lunch.
Fewer things in life are more pleasant than watching the sunset from a beach, with your toes dug in the sand and the prospect of expertly prepared local food. Coconuts at Grand Anse Beach delivers.
Old habits led us to Grand Anse Beach and Coconuts for lunch. Here is a busier beach, the most popular on the island and perhaps the loveliest. Stretching for a couple of miles along the western coast, it’s a creamy strand of sand punctuated with a handful of resorts. Yet, even when everyone is here – meaning the vendors, guests staying on-island, Grenadians enjoying the beach, and even some cruise ship daytrippers – it’s easy to find a spot to call your own without feeling crowded. I’ve heard complaints about the vendors here, but I’ve never known them to be a problem. A definitive “no, thank you” sends them on their way, but they are good for a chat if you are feeling so inclined. And if you’re in the mood to buy, they are gracious and appreciative of your business.
Ultimately, a new favorite beach emerged over the course of my travels, supplanting the previously preferred Morne Rouge. La Sagesse, on the southeastern coast of Grenada, climbed to the top of the rankings. We visited when anchored in St. David’s Harbour, and then Rick and I returned on our last full day on the island.
Protected by two imposing headlands, La Sagesse avoids the brunt of the Atlantic surf. Yet the surf is playful enough to allow for a bit of body-surfing, as well as the sound of waves washing ashore. The half-moon shaped beach is mostly grey sand, with stands of tall palm trees edging the shore, and a clear river emptying into the bay. If you’d been here before Hurricane Ivan, you would notice the loss of trees and vegetation, but a new visitor would nevertheless be struck by the South Pacific feel of the beach. The beach is never empty of people, as there is a small hotel there, and evident appeal among the people who live here. But it’s quiet and large enough so that you can feel quite isolated if you choose. And the restaurant at the La Sagesse hotel is one of my favorites – blessed as it is with its spectacular location and a talented chef. And if cruise ship guests come here, they don’t come in packs.
At La Sagesse, the images speak for themselves. Ahhhhhhh....
Part 5
Winding Up
As we headed home after our week on Grenada, we used our visit in San Juan as a transition back to our hectic urban lives. San Juan was a place we used to dread (as a necessary evil waypoint on our route elsewhere), but now seek out. Yet the reasons we so enjoy San Juan in its own right – the sophistication of its hotels, the cutting-edge cuisine, the stylish San Juañeros – paint a contrast to the qualities that make Grenada so special.
San Juan and Grenada share similar geography, climate and perhaps some history. But while San Juan is very much a large Latin
American city, charging ahead, there is something wonderfully old-fashioned about Grenada. The way people are welcoming and give you the benefit of their trust without you having to earn it. The way the food stays firmly-rooted in indigenous ingredients and long-standing traditions. The hotels that are true to island aesthetics without overtaking the landscape. The way nature – in all of its fury AND glory -- is, above all, the boss here.
I’m so gratified to see that Grenada is slowly-but-surely recovering from the ravages of Hurricane Ivan. I was happy to do my little bit to contribute economically. I won’t hesitate to continue recommending Grenada as a destination to those whom I sense will appreciate it. And I’ll be sure to return someday. Until then, I’ll have to make do with spinach in my approximation of callaloo soup …
