Cape to Milan

Cap Haitien was an important place during Haiti’s infancy. For a while during the colonial era, Cap Haitien was France’s chosen capital of the island. It enjoys a strategic geographic position: occupying the side of an easily defendable mountain, along with a river to supply fresh water and a harbor.

For this reason, the French built some substantial forts. They still are more or less here, within walking distance of downtown. We set off to find them.

The ouskirts of town to the north–on a road that dead-ends into the sea–are a lot more sleepy than the bustling areas to the south of town.

Haiti is the perfect place to see new and interesting things. Like goats hanging out in front of political graffiti.

Or a goat and a rooster hanging out on a wall somewhat tackily designed to look like an old palace.

A beach along the way. A working beach, not a swimming beach.

Further along, you come across minor military fortifications. All French-built. For a while, the rich coffee and sugar producing colony of Haiti was the envy of Europe. Unfortunately, the highly agricultural colony relied heavily on slavery. Revolts followed, and Haiti became the first black republic, and second independent nation in the new world, after the US.

As the road that goes north out of town peters out, you wind up among the estates of Haiti’s elite. The guard of this house was very nice, and let us know we were going the wrong way.

Ah yes, we made a naive mistake, assuming a road must go to the potential tourist attraction. Instead, this is the path: across a particularly unattractive beach. What do you do if the tide goes up in the meantime? I have no idea.

Eventually, the beach gives away to rocky coastline, and a broken stairway leads up to the entrance.

Caroline entering the spooky old fort, with the last bits of town in the background.

The surreal-looking ruins. A much different experience than visiting a restored fort.

Our outing–and my picture-taking–was interrupted by a guy who appears to live in the fort, and seemed mentally unstable. We had been worried the whole time about someone following us and using our vulnerability to their advantage. This guy didn’t seem to have any weapons, but he wasn’t responding to the typical “Au revoir!” we give when when someone has overstayed their welcome.

This guy didn’t seem to mean any harm directly. He just seemed drugged out. He followed us the whole two-mile walk back into town, where we managed to lose him.

Just another day in Haiti.