Nine volcanoes, whales, jungles, beaches... and a carnival too
Wendy Driver discovers the astonishing range of delights packed into tiny Dominica
IT WAS party time in Dominica. The narrow streets of the capital, Roseau, were festooned with bunting and teeming with locals and tourists alike. Reggae blasted out from the speakers as I watched dancers dressed in brilliantly coloured, skimpy costumes, elaborate masks and head-dresses making their way slowly past me.
I had arrived in time for carnival but this tiny Caribbean island (not to be confused with the Dominican Republic) is more likely to appeal to hikers and nature-lovers than party-goers, thanks to its black-sand beaches, rainforest and mountain peaks shrouded in mist.
Wiggly roads and walking trails criss-cross the landscape, although much of the interior is impenetrable jungle and therefore inaccessible. The island has no fewer than nine volcanoes, and volcanic activity is much in evidence. Thermal springs, mud pools and fumaroles are visible everywhere.
At Wotton Waven, I lowered myself into a series of hot pools in a shady valley, its mineral waters purportedly having healing properties to cure skin complaints. Nearby, steam rose from some bubbling sulphur pools stinking of rotten eggs.
Bert, a diving instructor, took me snorkelling at the aptly named Champagne Reef. We glided through streams of bubbles rising to the surface, like pearl droplets, from vents in an underwater volcano. At one point Bert pushed his snorkel into one of the cracks and poured piping hot water into my hand.
‘If the bubbles stop, we need to get out of here fast,’ he told me. I wasn’t sure if he was joking.
At Dominica’s southern tip, I scrambled up Scott’s Head, a promontory overlooking both the Atlantic and the Caribbean. Standing beside the old British cannon, I watched pelicans diving for fish in the crescentshaped Soufriere Bay. It was here, in a submerged crater, that the deepest dive of a sperm whale was recorded at more than 9,000ft.
Dominica is the only place in the world where sperm whales live year-round, so I joined Captain Imran, from Dive Dominica, to search for them. As soon as the boat left the quay, he dropped a hydrophone overboard to listen out for their clicks and whistles. We soon found ourselves surrounded by more than 50 whales. They were so close that we could hear them snorting as they came up for air.
Accommodation on the island ranges from simple guesthouses to small hotels. The stylish Pagua Bay House, facing the Atlantic, had just six comfortable cabanas built of galvanised steel to resemble banana sheds. It stands alone on a hillside, and commands stunning views across Pagua Bay where the huge surf rolls in.
Further south, the more traditional Rosalie Bay Resort lies on a black-sand beach covered in driftwood where sea turtles come to nest between March and September. Its 26 villas and rooms are scattered around the pool in tropical gardens.
Iti s a dramatic setting .Towering black cliffs rise sheer from the ocean, and waves crash against the wild and rugged coastline.
One morning I hiked to the next bay with Judy, my American guide. We set off through the ruins of an old sugar plantation and climbed a rocky track, clambering over tree trunks and edging our way across narrow ledges. Judy was passionate about the flora and fauna, crunching up leaves and herbs for me to smell, and identifying flowers and plants.
A few kilometres inland you can head to one of the main tourist attractions. Emerald Pool is hidden away in the steamy jungle where you can bathe in the shallow water with a waterfall cascading over you. It was an idyllic spot, with dappled sunlight streaming through the canopy. I arrived early to have it to myself before busloads of cruise passengers turned up.
Later a local boy, Ijah, rowed me past young egrets and blue herons on the lookout for a fish supper. We ended up at a rustic bar in the depths of the rainforest where we sat under a thatched awning drinking rum punches.
Rum is taken very seriously here. The Islet View restaurant on the Atlantic coast serves more than 60 varieties, including one named after Donald Trump.
On the last day, I headed up the north coast to Batibou, situated on the private Hampstead Estate. It was a real castaway beach, with swaying palms and golden sand. Irma, who owns the estate, somehow managed to produce gourmet cuisine over a coconut husk barbecue. I feasted on mahi-mahi in a mango and whiskey sauce. Afterwards I flopped in a hammock and dozed off to the hypnotic sound of the waves lapping the shore – a blissful way to end the holiday.