Ile a Vache

Sunday, all my uncles and aunts, Dad and I got up at 5am for a three day mini vacation to Le Sud (The South) and a little island off the coast of Haiti called Ile a Vache. This would be the first time my aunt and uncle left town since the quake so they NEED to get away; My other uncle was bringing along his new bride who had never been; my other aunt and uncle had only ever travelled as far as Jacmel; and my dad and I had only spent the day on Ile a Vache and knew we wanted to go back to spend a few days there so dad is the one who booked it for everyone. It takes about three hours to drive to Les Cayes and from there it’s a 35 minute boat ride to the island. Leaving at the crack of dawn allows us to avoid the monstrosity of a traffic jam that makes Carrefour infamous these days as it is Grand Central Station for practically every tap-tap in Haiti. Well, leaving at 6:00am sounded like a good idea, but ideas and realities don’t always see eye-to-eye. With two SUV’s full of suitcases, beach bags, ice chests of food and beverages, grumpy old men and their princess wives, getting everyone in the car simultaneously and on the road on time was a bit of a comedic skit in the making. Sooooo, we left an about an hour late, but surprisingly Carrefour wasn’t as nightmarish as we expected. The problem was, my uncle driving the car ahead of my dad’s, decided to take us through a “short-cut” to avoid most of the worst areas…riiiiiiiight. Probably under normal circumstances, the proposed short-cut may have worked had it not been for the plethora of streets completely blocked off by tents and people living in the streets. So much for the short-cut…we would have been better off sitting in the traffic through Carrefour. Oh well.

The drive through the country was just as beautiful as I remember. The luxuriant, green landscape is absolutely breath-taking (the good kind this time), although signs of an earthquake ravaged country keep reminding me of the plight of the people. Tent cities can still be found speckling the landscape. Unfortunately, many of these cities are really tents at all, but instead, are blue tarps pitched in such a way that only a single person could possibly occupy the interior. Aid in the way of providing tents never made it here for one reason or another. :/

The road itself is still in good condition (mind you, in Haitian standards). There are only a couple spots where it has cracked open like an egg or where the hillside butting up to it came tumbling down, now making it a single lane. Other than that, it was smooth sailing into the city of Les Cayes, and onto the boat headed for Abaka Bay, Ile a Vache….Aaaaaaah, if I could only describe the feeling of euphoria as we rounded the western top of the small island and the turquoise bay with its white sand beach came into view! And it only got better when we were greeted with an Abaka bay cocktail of citronade and rum! Oh wait, it gets even better! The owner upgraded Dad and me to a suite…SWEEEET! Somebody please pinch me for I must be dreaming!!! When we had visited last year, they were in the process of completing an extended set of beach front bungalows. The resort already had a cluster of rooms that hugged the steep terrain adjacent the large choucoune (palapa, or open-air, thatched roof gazebo, if you will) that made the front desk. The beach front bungalows were in the typical Caribbean style and brightly painted in yellows, oranges, and teals. Our suite had a kitchenette, dining table and chairs, living area with a pullout sleeper sofa, a large deck out front, king size bed, lots of windows for natural ventilation, ceiling fans and two air conditioner units, mosaic tile bath with a HUGE shower and skylights….REALLY?!?! Oh please, stop it some more!

Lunch was served in the outdoor dining pavilion. Dinner is served in the fancy indoor dining room, painted a deep crimson on some walls and exposed local stone on the others, air conditioned, and has two lounge areas tricked out with leather sofas and a plasma TV that played pirated copies of top American movies. (Who the heck would be crazy enough to sit inside and watch movies when you have Heaven’s playground outside?!?! Well, I found out later.) There’s no choice on the menu…you what they serve you but who the hell cares?!?! Everyone else went back to their rooms but Dad and I sat on the porch chatting and smoking a Cuban. I don’t think I slept so well in a looooooong time that night. The sound of the waves slapping the beach and the ocean breeze rustling the coconut was music to my ears.

The next day, we got up early and I found my aunt and uncle already in the water before breakfast. After breakfast, we decided to make the 25 minute trek to Port Morgan (as in Captain Morgan!); the island’s other resort on the north side of the island. I can’t even begin to tell you how beautiful that hike was. We passed through groves of mango, banana, coconut, greeted by goats, chickens and the island’s children running through barefoot with their shirts full of freshly picked fruit. Just to give you a better picture, there are no roads at all and no cars exist here. We made our way via a time worn and well travelled path about 3 feet wide. The entire island seems almost uninhabited but apparently, there are 18,000 residents…at least for election purposes, we were told. I really don’t see how that was possible, unless the lush vegetation covered up all the residences. Only a few Grande Maisons capped Ile a Vache’s peaks. After going up and over one of the hills, we came upon a village (which we had been directed by a local to look out for to know were on the right path) that could have come out of a fairy tale. It consisted of a few of the typical Haitian provincial two-room “huts” trimmed in Caribbean colors of pinks, blues and turquoise. They had neatly fenced in yards with perfectly manicured gardens. There was even a library that fascinated me and Dad. A local offered us a peek inside and as much as I was dying to see it, I almost felt like it shouldn’t be disturbed by my nosey ass. We reached sort of a plaza area where a girl was playing marbles and a horse grazed nearby. When we finally reached the bay of Port Morgan, I was met with a site that rivaled that of Walt Disney. It seriously looked like an amusement park! And the best part was, there was a freakin’ real life pirate ship (sans real life pirates of course) sitting in the middle of the bay… I’m totally serious!!! Stick a fork in me I’m done! When I die, I want my Heaven to be Ile a Vache!

We stopped and talked to a local who told us how a writer came to Ile a Vache from the U.S. to research for a book. He commissioned the local to build him a boat so they could take it to Miami. The local received a temporary 6 month visa to make the voyage. The man built the boat but they had to wait three months for the winds to change and it took another month to make the journey to Miami. But once they reached Miami, the Haitian was afraid of his visa expiring so he came back to his tiny island. I guess the writer hooked him up with another temporary visa and flew the Haitian to Washington. Now that’s an adventure for a man who has probably never flown in a plane, stayed in a real hotel or even had running (hot) water in his life!

The resort of Port Morgan is perched on the hillside overlooking the bay. By the time we reached the dining pavilion we were parched from making the steep climb in the piercing (but super delicious) Caribbean sunshine. We took a table on the edge with the best view of the bay and I had my first Cola Champagne of my trip…the BEST! We asked to see one of the rooms to check out the accommodations and lucky for us, only the three bedroom villa was available. Even if I could steal that house and take it anywhere I wanted, I would leave it right where it is. Dad and I climbed to the viewing deck on the roof and could take in the 360 degree views. One day we will return with the whole family.

We wanted to see as much of the island as possible so we got a small motor boat to take us back to Abaka Bay. After lunch we jumped back into the water until it was time for our last dinner. Torturous! They are gonna have to pry me off the coconut tree with a crowbar before I’ll leave. ..OK maybe not quite that dramatic. But my aunt and I did throw a tantrum of sorts on the pier getting into the boat to take us back to Les Cayes the following morning. A trip to Abaka Bay is a must for anyone visiting Haiti, except I really don’t want anyone to go because I want to keep it pristine and all to myself. Yeah, that’s right…I said it. Selfish brat I know. ;o)