Rocket launches and tropical islands

(part two of my toussaint holiday)

The day after Bianca and I got back from St.Laurent, (Wednesday week before last) we spent a day in cayenne, looking at the market, shops, eating soup in one of the Chinese restaurents. Chinese restaurants at the market is a ritual: go to the market, buy loads of fresh fruit, then go to a Chinese restaurant for a huge bowl of cheap and delicious noodle soup and a glass of local passion fruit juice. We went to the beach, caught up with each others news and just had a good gal pal kinda time.

Next morning we got up at a pretty leasurely pace, had a generous breakfast and then went on to the Route de Montabo to hitch a lift. Our final destination was Kourou, home of several assistants and the town near the space centre – but for now we needed to get to the Balata roundabout to hitch get a good lift between the towns. Our first ride was with a florist who dropped us further down the road by another round about. Our next ride came along almost immediately -  a guy who works as a maths teacher at one of the other assistant’s  schools – he went out of his way to take us to the point that joins the Cayenne area to the road that goes the length of the country.

Standing just past a junction on the outskirts of the city, we were glad today was a rare overcast day- not hot at all for early afternoon. After 5 minutes we remained optimistic – there’s only one road, everyone here must be going in our direction. After 8 minutes our arms were aching and still no lift. Then around ten minutes two rides showed up at once- we ended up getting a lift with a delivery driver. Haitian by origin, he’d been living in Guyane since he was small – but still felt he was 90% Haitian. The journey to Kourou is not long and the roads here are so incredible, forest and savannah on each side, lush greens and deep grey clouds on a day like Thursday was. We chatted about work, the road networks, how Guyane has changed in the time he’d lived here- he felt, for the better. 

A lot of people I’ve talked to since I’ve been here tell me they think that a lot of things are corrupt- as our ride told us ..Someone gets money to build a road – but before he builds the road, he builds himself a nice house, he sorts his family out, he gets comfortable. Then he pays his friends to build the road...but it’s not correct, they say it costs this much, but that’s the house, and the lifestyle, and paying the friends.

In Kourou we met the other assistants. Hannah and Kate welcomed us into their house, where lots of other assistants had already arrived and set hammocks up under the terrace.  After sunset we made our way to the beach to watch the rocket launch. Rockets launch every couple of months, but apparently it quite often goes wrong or gets delayed, so we’d not got our hopes up too much. In the end it left pretty much on time. The night sky was suddenly lit, bright as day, as the rocket ignited. Then it was in the sky, a bright stick of light, rising quickly until it was obscured by the still overcast sky. Then came the sound.. Like a helicopter, but louder, a mechanical, vibrating noise that eclipsed every other sound you could here, even the sea as we stood on the beach.
Then it was over, and everyone went back to Hannah and Kate’s house for a party.

Staying in Kourou til Saturday morning, we met our friends Bass and Milot, Philip and two more, at 7am to go to the Iles de Salut. These islands, visible from the coast of Kourou, were a prison until the 50s. They were part of the inspiration for Papillon, and notorious for their horrible conditions, the death rate of the inmates, and the sharks that swum hungry for the bodies of deceased prisoners that were thrown to sea. Now they are lush tropical islands, a lot of the old prisons consumed by vegetation – and, in Guyane, where all coast is heavy with Amazonian soil, famed (locally) for their blue seas.

A catamaran took us first to Isle Joseph. We had breakfast on a beach, which was made of tiny crushed up shells, and swum in the sea. On the continent, the sea is always warm, but here, the sea was cold and refreshing. We spent ages swimming in one of the few areas where the strong currents won’t drag you away, and having “chicken fights”**. Around midday, after a walk round the islands, we got ferried to the larger Isle Royale, which used to be the administrative island. L’isle du diable, the third island, used to be where political prisoners were put – now, no one lands there.  We walked across the island to reach the old port, where we swam. Laying on my back (the water was very salty so you float easily), eyes closed, gently rocking under the subdued waves of the old port, sun beating on my face.  Tinkly, splooshy noises in the water make me feel as if im’re lying in the bath, not the  Atlantic Ocean.

The catamaran carried us back in the afternoon, and we drove back to Cayenne feeling completely exhausted but mentally refressed. It was like the definition of holiday! When we arrived home we cooked the delicious recipe I blogged a couple weeks ago. The forest on either side of the road looked incredible, silhouetted against the dusk on the ride home.

Hammock land in Kourou

Being pretty cool on the island boat

On Ile Royale, with Ile du diable in the background (I think) Bass, Milot, Me

That beach is made of shells!!!

 Photo credit goes to Isabelle for the first one and Bianca for the second to fourth.

** Chicken Fight is a part of my vocabulary introduced to me by another assistant, Liam. It involves riding on someone’s shoulders and then jousting with a similarly mounted enemy to see who gets slewed of their steed first.