Happy accidents are a big part of my unusual travel experiences. missed flight, wrong turnand poor planning (usually by myself) is annoying. But at the same time, they often provide the most unforgettable experiences. A good example of this is the musical interlude I enjoyed at Caco's Bar on my way to Terre-de-Haut a few years ago.
As I pointed out in an article Previous articleself-inflicted mistakes pervaded my entire 2017 Guadeloupe adventure. The confusion was compounded by a lack of pre-planning and my almost non-existent French skills. So is my unfamiliarity Guadeloupe itself. (This was my first time back there in over 30 years!)
These factors (disadvantages?) combined to bring me to this sleepy little seaside village. Trois-Rivières Second day in Guarda.
Big Miss
Now, I usually prefer small, sleepy Caribbean seaside villages. As we've shown before, and I've enjoyed time and time again, you can learn a lot about a country/destination just by wandering around its quietest, meanest enclaves. However, Trois-Rivières is not that attractive to me. At least not when I came this time.
I went there for only one reason: to take the ferry Go to the ground.
Terre-de-Haut: one of the most magnificent holy islands in Guadeloupe. Like the fairytale island we have in the Caribbean. This is a place I have dreamed of exploring most of my life. Arrive home Pandesucre Beachis the Caribbean’s answer to Brazil’s famous sweet bread. A beach lover's paradise covering 2.32 square miles with over 10 beaches! The main reason I traveled to Guadeloupe in the first place!
I just can't get there. not yet. I misread the ferry schedule for Trois-Rivières Supremo, mistimed my taxi arrival at the Trois-Rivières ferry terminal, and missed my boat to my dream destination of Guarda.
Oh, and I didn't miss the ferry slightly either. The next scheduled departure time is Five hours later!
Yeah, I kinda hate myself after this screw-up. On the other hand, I don’t really like Trois-Rivières. Surroundings like this are basically rotten…
…and this…
…only served to intensify my melancholy.
From the shores of Trois-Rivières I could see the Holy Land and the Haute, but they seemed a million miles away.
failing to do one's best
Of course, I try to make the best of my less-than-ideal circumstances. I hiked the entire village, which made my mood even worse. Not much is open. There isn’t much to see either, apart from the aforementioned rotting buildings and the beautiful view of Lesante across the sea.
ah.
Finally, I had some lunch.
I love this beautiful lambic creole dish madras catering servicesquite good. In fact, I think it probably rejuvenated me in a way. After swallowing it (plus one or two grower), I began to warm to my predicament. I gave Trois-Rivières a second chance. The second chance brought me to Caco's Bar.
At first glance, it doesn't seem all that appealing. Anyway, I didn’t see it.
However, I couldn't resist being attracted to Caco's.
Magnet: Music.
happy drums
Note that I'm not talking about a curated playlist played on some nice speakers. Instead, the music that drew me to Caco was crazy, disjointed, and raw. An organic burst of drums, percussion and chants fueled by rum, beer and an infectious joie de vivre.
The people who performed in the forecourt of the Caco Hotel were not great musicians. At least I don't think they are. Not in a professional sense. If there's one thing they're good at, it's drinking and drinking.
in spite of. They're not playing to impress anyone. They're not trying to make money either. It's all just for fun and celebrating life. In fact, anyone who passed by was invited to sit with them or buy them a drink. I happily completed the latter in over an hour. All the time, the language barrier between us disappeared without a trace. We are united in song and spirit.
However, it will soon be time for me to leave. I didn't want to miss the ferry to Terre-de-Haut for the second time that day.
Still, I feel a bit conflicted. Caco's Afternoon Lime is so sweet! I really don't want to leave. All the anxiety from earlier in the day disappeared; the magic of the music and the ethereal serendipity of the mistakes were washed away.
