Trip to "Kenscoff"

Last week, Ronauld, one of my favorite drivers from the IDEJEN project, invited us to "the mountains" in Kenscoff for a little Sunday excursion. Here were some of the highlights of the day....
For me, it's a thrill to just to get out and absorb all of my surroundings.










We wound our way up tiny mountain roads for a while....

And past some pretty gorgeous scenary. Once again, tyring to snap pictures from a fast-moving vehicle is not so easy. I think I do pretty well now.
But our final destination would take us about 2 hours---off the beaten path-- on some pretty gnary dirt roads. Apparently, there was a really good restaraunt/lodge "out there" somewhere. But after getting lost a few times, and feeling pretty isolated in the middle of nowhere (pictures not shown), I began to have my doubts.

Observation: there are lots of piles of rocks like this along the road sides. I'm not exactly sure what they are for. Maybe the government has plans in the near future to repair all the roads, but I don't think so.

I was proud of Ronauld, for sucking it up and asking for directions from local passerbyers.... about 6 or 7 times at that. Just when I thought it was all a big joke and there was no "lodge,"

(I mean who in their right mind would venture way out here for fried-fish- fritters and creole-style cole slaw?)

Well, apparently we would. You wouldn't have known it, but there it was. The Lodge. Hidden in all its pristine isolation. We pulled in, and sat down to an unforgettable feast.

By the way, the fried-fish-fritters are way up there on my new-favorite-foods list (even though I couldn't find much fish in them-they were more like fried-dough-blobs. Come to think of it, that's probably why I liked them so much).

The coleslaw is an acquired taste. I put a whole spoonful in my mouth the first time--and soon figured out why they call it "piquante" and why it is served in such small portions. You're only supposed to put a dab of it at a time on other food. It's that hot.

Our four-course meal left me feeling no pain. That's Sani to my right (Melanie's husband) and Ronauld to my left.

The setting was pretty nice, I'll admit. Rustic, authentic, but still comfortable. I'll keep it on my list the next time I come to Haiti, have a personal driver, and a mega SUV at my disposal.

Isn't Amani a cute little bugger? You'll notice us in our "warm" clothes. You see, up in the mountains, the weather can drop down to the low 60s, and you don't want to get caught unprepared.

After lounging and exploring for a while, we headed back down the mountain, to a historical sight that I had no idea existed. An old fort, perched way on top of the mountain.
From on top, you could catch a great view of some of Port-au-Prince and Petion-Ville (or "P.V."), a connecting city (where we happen to live--safer!)

And the ocean of course.

Here's the fort. We had a tour-guide--well, a young boy who wanted to make some money--who started walking with us. But since he really knew his stuff, we kept him along for the ride and he showed us around.

Now apparently, this was some historical fort back in the day when colonizing French dudes were here. Unfortunately, I can't expound much further on that brilliant statement. You see, unless I totally concentrate on what someone is saying, I tune out (especially when it's historical facts). I think I tuned out here.


But that doesn't mean I couldn't appreciate the dark cellars where they kept prisoners ( I think) or the authentic cannons where they warded off large numbers of foreign invaders coming in from the east (maybe?)



But at least I could look cool perched on the cannon and smile for the camera. That's our guide with us. He was what I'd describe as "Carribbean meets Texas." The leather jacket, tight jeans, and cowboy boots were definately something you don't see a lot around here.

But then again, I shoudln't be talking. My Cal Berkeley T-shirt and running pants wern't the most flattering statement either.

After our historical tour, we hopped back in the car and made the treck down the mountain, getting home just before dark. The perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon!