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Vestiges of the Old Caribbean


Article # : 10438 

Section : LIFE
Issue Date : 2 / 1993  3,753 Words
Author : Holly Fletcher
Holly Fletcher is a free-lance writer residing in the Washington, D.C., area. She writes often for THE WORLD & I.

       The sun was sinking behind the volcanic peak, and a Caribbean breeze was gently blowing. The frogs were warming up for their nightly concert. I was certain, as I stepped from the taxi that had brought me to Montpelier Inn on the British West Indies island of Nevis, that I had stepped into an earlier era.
       
       As far as the eye could see, there was lush green jungle. Tropical flowers burst like red and yellow paint splashes on the rocky sides of the eighteenth-century sugar mill, which was perched over a turquoise swimming pool like a lifeguard. A pet horse wandered around nibbling patches of green grass, a warm-blooded lawn mower. British gentility reigned, from the clipped accents of the managers to the ceiling fans that spun lazily. Nevis and St. Kitts have been independent since 1983.
       
       It was Out of Africa without the lions. Later, I would learn that Nevis and its sister island, St. Kitts, are also the Caribbean without poverty, crime, illiteracy, or desperation.
       
       Montpelier Inn
       
       Nevis is the smaller of the two islands, only thirty-six square miles. This tiny jewel was called Oualie (Land of Beautiful Waters) by the natives. Legend has it that Christopher Columbus is the origin of the name Nevis--when first viewing the clouds nearly always surrounding the island's main volcanic peak, he was reminded of snowcapped peaks and is said to have dubbed his new find Nuestra Senora de las Nieves (Our Lady of the Snows).
       
       Montpelier Inn is one of several inns that were originally great houses on sugar plantations. It has a small library--a must since, by choice, there isn't a "telly" on the estate. On Nevis, you can forget about nightlife completely.
       
       Fine meals are served on the open veranda on tables decorated with tropical fruit and yellow bells--a local flower that looks like a yellow bell. One of the strangest delicacies to greet sleepy-eyed guests in the morning is sour sop, a spongy fruit with a white pulp dotted with black seeds like a watermelon.
       
       Fresh baked bread was a big hit with the tiny birds on the veranda. Sugar eaters, banana quits, and the Greater Antillean bullfinches swooped when no one appeared to notice to grab morsels and dart out again. I liked sharing my food with them, for it made the island seem in balance--the natural inhabitants mixing
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