Cycling Today December 1999

Pastime Paradise
By Caroline Griffiths

Being of particularly pale constitution, summer holidays lazing under an umbrella on some Greek island have never really appealed to me, that, and of course the fact that there is little to do but drink Retsina and get chatted up by the local Spiros brothers.

But the Caribbean, well that's different of course. For a start it's so much further - at least an eight hour flight - and it's much more tropical in every sense of the word, I mean didn't Posh and Becks have their honeymoon there?

Well, if I were to spend a week there a trip to the shops was in order, sun hats, sunglasses, strappy sandals, umm what else would I need...?

Just before I hit earth with a big bump I had visions of me galloping along a deserted white sandy beach on horseback, white linen flowing, being followed by a handsome gentleman with minor noble connections (which reminded  me - I mustn't forget the Mills and Boon) when someone in the office piped up - don't forget your pedals. Pedals? Oh yes, I almost forgot this was a cycling holiday - forget the sandals and pack the lycra.

It wasn't that I didn't want to go on a cycling holiday, it was just I didn't really know what to expect. Well I needn't have worried , this wasn't any cycling holiday, it had a bit of a twist. I was about to embark on a week's holiday staying on a 100 year old, 120ft coastal ketch called Irene. So what's this go to do with cycling? Well, Irene is a charter yacht based in the Caribbean. She's really a floating hotel, and as there are so many beautiful islands that make up the Caribbean you can choose an itinerary to suit your party. Cycling is just one of the many activities offered en route, you can also choose to spend your time diving, snorkeling, wakeboarding, sailing Sea Pink ( the small wooden dinghy which took me to my own land of Swallows and Amazons) water-skiing, hiking, golfing, or doing absolutely nothing but lazing on deck sipping fresh fruit cocktails...(has anyone seen my sarong?)

So, I packed my bike and set off for Gatwick to embark on a particularly unpleasant flight to Grenada. (No offense British Airways, but for anyone to enjoy sitting in a pressurised tin can for 10 hours I suggest therapy.) And that wasn't the worst of it. On arrival at Grenada, we had to transfer to St Vincent, and as we were such a small party (only 8), we had to take a very small eight seater propeller plane the twenty minute journey to St Vincent. We made it. Now all that lay between us and those long awaited cocktails aboard the Irene was a very thorough customs department at St Vincent airport. My (very clean) bike was being scrutinised under the bright lights of interrogation, "No, I'm not going to sell it - I'm on a cycling holiday - I need it to ride..." I pleaded. After a speck of mud was found on the wheel rim, proof that it was not brand new, I was hurried through. I later found out that there is a huge cycling culture in the Caribbean, especially mountain biking, but a big shortage of bikes, hence the reason for my interrogation.

We eventually boarded Irene at about 6pm. She was moored in a little bay in between two tiny islands, as we drew close to her, the sound of jazz music greeted us along with the glimpse of chilled champagne and fresh sushi. I wasn't sure if the plane had crashed and I'd gone to heaven or if this was to be my home for the next eight days. A quick swim in the beautifully warm water awakened my senses and I realised I was in for the holiday of a lifetime.

I chose to sleep on deck the first night, a move that would not change for the rest of the week. The stars shining in the sky and the calm rocking of the boat sent me to sleep in an instant, only to be woken at 6am by an out of sync body clock. It was Thursday and we were due on the island to meet Sailor, the local guide. Sailor owns the only bike shop in  St Vincent and the Grenadines, he also arranges a lot of mountain bike races on the island. this day however we were going hiking to the top of Mount Soufriere, an active volcano which reaches 4048 feet. We walked but, according to Sailor, once a year a race takes place where 100 odd men with their bikes on their shoulders run up to the top of the volcano and cycle down. Unfortunately we didn't have the time to re-enact the race but it could be arranged if desired. We set sail to Bequia in the afternoon after a swim to cool down. A relaxing sail with little wind saw a stage show from a school of dolphins. We arrived at Admiralty Bay, before sunset with an hour or so to test the wakeboard and water-skis. A few gallons of salty water later...

The next day it was time to unpack the bike and go for a ride, we surfaced early to avoid the midday sun and headed for shore. I was lucky, as I was the only one in the group cycling, the standard was set for me, so nothing too strenuous I thought... We cycled around the island up to Industry Bay where the most fantastic views can be had over the beach below. On the way back we rode a technical descent down to Hope beach, it was rocky and unforgiving. Fun? Yes. Painful? Very. The beach awaited at the bottom where a swim in the sea was much appreciated. We also drank from fresh coconuts picked for us by a man named Jacob with a very large machete. Not that I was scared of his machete(it must have been at least three feet long), but I did decline an invitation to visit his gallery in the basement of his house. He claimed however, he didn't mind, as he'd had far more distinguished guests such as Mick Jagger and Jerry hall. Well, how could I live up to that?

So off we slogged, back up the hill - I didn't even try to ride up, it had been hard enough going down. I made it to the top with every ounce of my energy squeezed from my body - I thought that this was a holiday? Anyway, we headed back to Irene, up the last hill (or so I was told) but by this time I was relying on the odd turbo boost from our guide to make it up even the shortest, flattest hill. Needless to say, I was looking forward to the post ride snack - the most delicious milkshake I had ever tasted.

The rest of the week was spent pretty much like this, we sailed to four more beautiful islands: Canouan, Mayreau, Tobago Cayrs with a final night sail to Grenada. Those who had never dived before took a resort dive at the Tobago Cays, a beautiful but rather mind blowing experience. Qualified divers can use the equipment on board and dive as much as they please.

We spent the final two days sin Grenada moored in the bay just by the colorful capital of St George's. We decided to take it easy for one day and went to visit the tourist spots. Well worth it just to swim in the stunning waterfalls set deep in the rain forest. And, if you have time try to visit the nutmeg factory on the island.

We spent the last morning cycling. Quite a steady ride considering the timetable we'd been keeping ( and the night before). And then it was time  to say goodbye to Grenada and the Grenadines and take a night flight back to Gatwick. Funnily enough, despite my nerves, I managed to sleep the whole way home.