If I had to describe Grenada as a woman, she would be tall and mysterious. Gentle but with a definite sting in her tail. She’d humour her children – maybe a little too much.. and she’d cook strong and simple food. Her forests would be her hair, so she’d be plenty hairy. Her blue blue sea would be her skin, so she’d have a mermaid’s complexion. You could cut her in two and she’d be smooth on one side. Wrinkly on the other.
The trade winds coming from Africa hits full force on the Atlantic side of the island. The eastern end soaks it all up – leaving smooth as glass on the western Caribbean coastline.
In the middle, Grenada has rainforest mountains to keep her cool. Wildflowers grow on her lower, drier slopes like delicate toes. Trees the size of ships are her many thousands of fingers. And her eye? Her eye is the lake at the top of her tallest mountain, Mt St Catherine. The crater of an sleeping volcano, Grand Etang. When the underwater volcano Kick ‘Em Jenny, located over 23km away and in hundreds of metres of water, starts to bubble (as it often does), Grand Etang Lake bubbles too.
A local man, Bernard, told us that all of Grenada drinks from this lake. Grand Etang is the never-ending reservoir of the island. Huh. It struck me then. All of Grenada must see with her eye.