“You choose where we go”, he said.
I didn’t have a clue, so “Just go west”, I said, knowing there is nature and free beaches in that direction. I didn’t feel like going into town. That much I knew.
So we drove out of town, to the west. I remembered reading somewhere that there is a little road down the north coast from Ascençion back into town. Since we hardly know the north coast (all the beaches are on the south coast), we thought that would be fun.
Of course we took the wrong turn. But we didn’t mind. Getting lost feels like vacation to us, especially if it doesn’t really matter where we end up. We never found the road I meant, but we did find ourselves back on the main road after a nice detour.
When we passed Shete Boka, my husband said: “That’s where we’re going!” We’ve passed the National Park often, but we never visited.
We got a little map and followed the first trail (on foot) to the first Boka. It was a little hike through a forest of Mangroves. I love how these trees grow themselves into knots. Beneath the trees you could here gekko’s running away for us.
Just when we were wondering if we were going in the right direction (towards the see), the forest stopped and we were between large rocks, that we think were very old coral. And behind that, we found the ocean.
It’s clear why there aren’t any beaches here. These waves are so powerful. And so beautiful too. We can watch the ocean for hours. Well, we did for half an hour.
Than we hiked back through the knotty forest and took the car to drive to another boka. The lady at the entrance said there would be turtles there.
We drove over dirt roads, took – of course - a few wrong turns, despite the clear directions and finally found Boka Pistol. It’s hard to describe how beautiful it’s there (but luckily I do have pictures and even video below this post). The water is pushed into the boka (inlet?) so hard that it’s blowing up again really, really high.
We saw a turtle there. Swimming in those waves. It must have been a massive one, if we could spot him from afar. He held his head up just a few moments and then he dived…
The map said the dirt road stopped here, but it didn’t, so we followed it to the next boca. There have to be at least seven (though my tour giuide says the’re even more). We saw big blowing waves as far as we could see…
We took the bumpy dirt road back, almost ended up going straight up the mountain instead of around it (feels like vacation too, we did that once at the Mont Blanc) and parked the car again to hike another trail to a cave.
This was a cave completely carved out by the water. I felt scared to go in there first, since there was a warning to wear fitting shoes. My slippers fit very well, but I guess that’s not what they meant. Luckily it wasn’t too bad.
It was still scary, knowing that big rock above, the rumbling sound of the wind and the waves. But I’m so glad I’ve seen it. The power of nature. You’ve got to be reminded of that every once in a while, I believe.
We hopped into the car and went west again. We found a sign pointing to “North Point”. We’d never been there too. And we’ve still never been, cause we got lost again. We did find Watamula. Didn’t know what that was, so we decided to go see it (you know, vacation, adventure).
Watamula was a platform of ancient coral, leading to another beautiful part of the coast. There was another couple walking there (I think to find a romantic spot together) and the man told us to walk just a little bit further. When we did, he said: “They say this is where Korsow (Curaçao) breaths.” And he pointed to a hole in the rock. It did look like that. Like a whale coming up for air. And it sounded like breathing too. So beautiful.
If I have any doubts about this island, one of them was that I thought it didn’t have a lot of real nature. The beaches were fun, but I missed… well, this.
My sense for adventure was kind of satisfied now. We took some more roads just because we never did before and then decided we were thirsty. We had some drinks at a snack (a small diner where locals go for food and drinks) and when we saw three Americans eating chicken, my husband decided he wanted something to eat too.
The menu was in papiamento, so we had to guess what to choose. I knew the dish at the top was goat, but my husband wasn’t feeling adventurous enough to try that. Galina is chicken, but they had both stoba (which is stew – I knew that) and hasa (that was a new word for me). The Americans were standing next to us now, because they wanted more ketchup (oh, Americans and their ketchup…) so my husband asked which one of the two galina dishes they had.
“We just asked for chicken”, the guy said. Oh, well. That’s a way of handling things too. My husband also took the easy way and ordered “what he has”. Which turned out to be fried chicken. Galina hasa. It was good (I took a litle bite).
It was late in the afternoon by now. We drove home slowly. And then we drove past our temporary home, because we didn’t want this day to end yet. So we went to the very new Beach Boulevard, where we knew were lots of bars and restaurants. I know, so different from all that beautiful nature, but for us that feels like vacation too.
We had a drink at the Wet & Wild Beachclub, which isn’t by far as wild as the name suggests and wet clothes are not appreciated. We watched the sun make a crazy move and landing itself on a ship (see picture at the bottom of the post) and then went looking for a restaurant. That wasn’t easy since in most restaurantsevery table was booked for Valentines diners. Luckily the nice people at El Mexicano found room for us. We ate a “combinaçion” of Mexican dishes and decided that, despite an earlier disappointment, we actually did like Mexican food. It was great.
After diner we walked by the seaside, watched the stars from the beach chairs and decided to have one more drink. Wet & Wild was the only place that had some fun going on, so that’s where we went. The nice 80’s background music had been replaced by ‘90’s dance music. We’re not fans (we were teenagers in the ‘80’s), but here, at the beach it didn’t bother us much. If I’d have had one more drink I might even have danced a little. Luckily I didn’t, because despite my comments on young girls dancing like they swallowed a broom stick (move those hips, girls!), I don’t think it looks good when an overweight 42-year-old tries to move like she did 25 years ago*.
Still, it was a nice ending to a good and adventurous Valentines Day.
*I actually did a bit of dancing a few days later, but maybe it’s better to keep that story untold. I’d like to state that my hips still can do the moves though ;-)
|knotted tree (mangrove)|
|clearly (the sign states that waves can be very powerful and dangerous here)|
|in the cave|
|dirt roads near Watamula|
|Korsow breathes here...|