Cape to Milan

Now that we’ve spent a bit more time in Cap Haitien, it seems like it deserves a second post.

For starters, we finally got some good weather and sunshine. A mixed blessing, it turns out, since with the sun comes the heat.

Wondering what the town looks like? I took a video as we rode on a moto-taxi. Cap Haitien in all its glory.

The Malecon looking a lot more inviting in the sunshine. Swimming from within the city is out of the question–it’s almost torture being so close to the blue sea on a hot day, and without any swimming beaches nearby.

The question many of you are probably thinking: is Haiti safe for travel?

I’m actually surprised by how safe it feels. Only a couple times have somewhat aggressive people come up to us on the street. Both seemed out of their minds on drugs. That’s actually not bad for a big city like Cap.

Beggar kids are not that much of an issue, comparatively. I guess because there isn’t a steady enough stream of tourists to target. In places like Nicaragua, you get kids who are trained and groomed specifically to make tourists pity them and open their wallets. Here, it’s normally the kids who walk around washing people’s cars who seriously ask for a dollar (a Haitian dollar, about US$.10). Regular kids sometimes ask for a dollar, then when you say no, they and their friends erupt in laughter. It’s more of an “I dare you…” sort of thing than actually wanting the cash.

By the way, the currency situation is difficult.

Haiti’s currency is the Gourde. 40 to the US dollar. Easy enough. But the “unofficial” currency is the Haitian dollar. 5 Gourdes equals one Haitian dollar–and it’s the same exact money. A 100 Gd bill would be called a 20 dollar bill. The more official businesses tend to quote prices in Gourdes, while everyone else quotes in Haitian dollars. So when you ask how much something is and someone says “25”, you’ve got some math to do, and you don’t want to look like a fool by paying a fifth or five times what it actually costs. Haitians must be the best people in the world at multiplying and dividing by five.

But when they say 25, they’ll say it in Creole. The numbers are kind of like French, but with some big exceptions. So just hearing the number can be a chore, especially when the word for “one hundred” (“san”) often just blends into the rest of what they say. “San vent senk” (125) can sound almost exactly like “vent senk” (25).

Then you’ve got the issue that ATMs only give you 1,000 Gd bills. US$25. Breaking one of those requires careful planning. But that’s a problem that happens in a lot of different countries.

Cap sits at the bottom of a pretty impressive mountain. There is a trail to Labadie village on the other side, although it takes several hours to get there.

Fantastic chicken, brimming with flavor, in Creole sauce.

We’ve talked a lot about tap-taps. This is what they typically look like–essentially just an old pickup truck with a covered bed. People and cargo go inside, and more cargo goes on top. Tap-taps are sometimes more basic than this, without the top.

To people who drive trucks: Will this be the fate of your pickup truck? Is your old pickup truck now living a radically different second life on the streets of Haiti? It’s actually somewhat plausible.

What with all the crazy traffic and narrow streets, it seems likely a car will eventually hit any given building. What better to protect it than a 200+ year old cannon, lodged into the concrete?

In Cap, some sort of educational institution seems to be on every block–whether s primary school, secondary school, or college. And school tends not to be free, no matter the level. These prices for college courses would be in Haitian Dollars, so a 5 month course in mass media journalism would cost 1,000 Haitian Dollars, which is 5,000 Gds or US$125.

Near the port, you have a completely different type of market from what I talked about in the other post. This one is rather clean and nice. It’s where the expensive, imported goods go for onward distribution after they get unloaded from the ships.

Yet another very different sort of market, also right next to the port (note the container stacks). This is the tourist market, where arts and crafts are (theoretically) sold to tourists. It’s gigantic–this picture probably shows about a third of it. And we were of course the only tourists in sight, with dozens of vendors competing for our attention. Still, the vendors were pretty tame compared to Egypt or Vic Falls, and generally respected if you wanted to look at something and then say “No Thanks” (in those other places, “You touch it, you bought it”).

We made friends with a Haitian fellow named Markenley.

Sadly, we had to leave eventually. This is the last we saw of Haiti–the rather forlorn Rio Massacre, which forms the border with the DR.

Sensing we were interested in a bit more sand than her place offered, our host Angelique suggested we visit some of the surrounding beaches. Since there’s no road there, we strolled to the village dock and negotiated boat transport with Willie, a guy with fantastic English who had helped us get to Norm’s Place the day prior. We joined him on his taxi–as colorfully decorated as the rest–and grabbed this shot of one of the other taxis by the dock. A true representation of the Haitian spirit: life is something to be enjoyed and not taken too seriously.

The 10-minute boat ride ended at Plague Paradise.

We will let you be the judge: is it perfectly named?

The ocean was deliciously cool on the top and bathwater warm on the bottom, so we could float through as many different temperatures as needed.

The only other people on the beach were our taxi driver, his assistant, and a beach caretaker who also sold bottles of Prestige.

No fridge here; just this cool spring to chill the beers.

A short panoramic video.

We were sad to leave it.

So, remember those tap-taps I told you about? This is our view from one–packed in with 15 other people, a spare tire, two huge bags of individual water packets, a cooler, luggage, and my fear that all of us would tumble down the side of the mountain as we bumped along a treacherous, cliff-hugging road. My hope for Plage Labadie (Labadie Beach), a reputed gem of Haiti’s North, is what kept me going as my spine was crunched between pieces of metal and my legs wedged between a person, the cooler, and my backpack. (Not the most comfortable way to travel after a day riding horses up a mountain.) And yet, after extensive discussion, Alex and I concluded that this is NOT the hardest we have ever worked for a beach. That honor still securely belongs to Carrusca, Mozambique.

We survived the harrowing ride there, which dropped us right in front of the boat taxis. We hopped in one and asked for Kay Norm.

Norm’s Place is a beautifully restored French colonial style guesthouse with its own swath of beach along the sea and plenty of mango trees. The place was started by an American businessman in the 70s (back when it was just ruins). His widow, the witty Angelique, now runs the place.

The view from Norm’s Place.

The guesthouse’s private beach, which is often shared with fishermen and village kids out for a swim.

The place is swimming in history. Angelique told us that many of the building materials for the Citadelle came from here, and she’s found a number of artifacts from the years leading up to independence and after, like this cannon.

The best part about Plage Labadie is the vibrant village…

… filled with inquisitive kids who can’t help but chase down strangers and try out their English phrases.

This little guy was particularly enamored with Alex.

The town square, with trash cans courtesy of the US.

Our favorite place on the square was this walk-up bar (no open container issues here) run by the affable Justin. As we sipped our Prestige beers in the square, he walked up to us and said, “I don’t mean to bother you, but someone needs to tell you. This is a quiet place. A calm place. No one will do anything to you here. If anything bad happens to you, I will take full responsibility.” As with many small towns, everyone at the Plage seems incredibly honest in two ways: they will tell you what they think, and they will never, ever cheat you–nor expect you to cheat them. Once when we forgot our wallets back at Norm’s Place, a guy selling us water said, “That’s fine, you can pay later.”

The perfect activity after sunset: tuck into a home-cooked meal of fresh fish…

…or lobster.

Hopefully I’ve got you convinced that the Haiti we see on the news is not the full story. Labadie village feels as tranquil and cozy as any close-knit small town, with families chatting on their laundry-draped porches and kids playing bottlecap checkers in the central square.

So here’s the weird part.

While all of this is going on, up to three huge cruise ships pull up to a walled-off beach compound (once a part of Haiti but now essentially property of Royal Caribbean) and unleash loads of tourists onto a strip of perfectly manicured sand that seems a world away from Labadie village.

Here, you see real Plage Labadie in the foreground and Royal Caribbean’s version in the background.

Despite being one of Haiti’s most beautiful beachfronts, Haitians aren’t allowed to go there. Although they could once pay a fee to enjoy it on the 6 days out of the week when cruise ships aren’t there, it’s now completely private.

Although the beach looked gorgeous from afar, we were able to find a little slice of paradise for ourselves. You’ll read about that next.

The Sans Souci Palace lies at the bottom of a seven-kilometer road to get to the main attraction: The Citadelle Laferrière.

Seven kilometers up. Seven kilometers down. A couple thousand feet gained, then lost again. All in the tropical heat.

Needless to say, few people actually walk it. A rough road can get you most of the way to the top in the comfort of your car–not an option for those of us who arrived by taptap. For those without a 4WD car, you have three options: walk, ride a moto-taxi (motorcycle, which terrifies us), or ride a horse.

Our tentative plan was to walk. But those guys who rent the horses can sense the slightest bit of indecision. They followed us for a couple minutes, purely on speculation that “the lady” would want a horse.

Well, we decided one horse was probably a good idea. After all, my knee was hurting that morning, and we could just take turns riding it if we got tired.

So Caroline hopped on a horse and took off. Now, these horses don’t gallop the whole way or anything, and they require a guy to lead them and “encourage” them (using a whip), and our guide would be walking too. I figured I could keep up with the other guys.

I was dead wrong. Five minutes of hiking and Caroline was long gone while I was panting, sweating, and seriously doubting I could keep this up for two hours. Those guys were able to walk at a brisk pace up a seven kilometer grade, and I wasn’t. So I relented. Two horses it was.

The road up to the top is absolutely beautiful. Riding through banana plantations, kids waving–an absolutely great time. You also get some people aggressively selling crafts and so forth. But it’s less of a problem once you’ve got a guide.

The Citadelle comes into view. The greatest fortress in the Americas, sitting atop a high mountain.

A lookout post.

Finally, we’re at the top. The walls of the fortress are impossibly high.

After dismounting, my horse gets a snack.

In a way, the crazy thing about the Citadelle is that it was built at all. Haiti 200 years ago was newly independent and the northern part run by the somewhat-crazy Henri Christophe. Petrified of a French invasion or a war with the other kingdom to the south (whose capital was Port-au-Prince), he built this fortress.

Every brick, every stone, every ounce of mortar requiring huge effort to get to the top of the mountain. It took 20,000 laborers over a decade to build.

The draw bridge. It’s all designed straight out of a “how to build a medieval castle” textbook. Once the enemy penetrates one layer, you make it even harder to get through the next.

Everything about it is unnecessarily huge. How many floors of cannons do you really need, pointing off the 100′ high tower?

Each cannon is intricately carved.

The lighting was not so good for taking pictures of the incredible view, but awesome for capturing the mood of the place.

The governor’s palace, should a retreat to the castle be necessary.

The magazine, where all the gunpowder was kept. It’s said that someone was smoking near the magazine, and was swiftly put to death as punishment.

It’s also said that after the architect who designed the Citadelle gave Mr. Christophe the plans, thereby expecting payment, he was swiftly killed.

Every cannonball requiring tremendous effort to get to the fortress. And it never saw battle.

After a while, it was time to turn back and head down to Milot for a tap-tap back to Cap.

You can start to feel like Frodo Baggins after a while, with so many guides and stuff. It can get a little out hand sometimes.

We walked back down. Riding a horse is general is not very comfortable, and works all sorts of muscles that never otherwise get worked. Going down steep grades for a couple hours–we’d rather just walk.

An enchanting place, but, for the time being, it sees only a trickle of tourists a day (probably a dozen on the day we went). Maybe someday Haiti will come around and the Citadelle will find its place among the amazing sights this continent has to offer. Maybe then they’ll build a cable car or something to get up there. Until then, you’ve just got to work for it.

UPDATE: Just a few weeks after we visited the Citadelle, Haiti’s president, Michel Martelly, also paid it a visit. According to reports of his trip, he was quite angry about the state of the Citadelle (which is clearly apparent in our pictures). Personally, I have to disagree with the president that the Citadelle looks neglected and in a state of disrepair. I was expecting much worse, given the Tripadvisor reviews that said it was full of trash. Instead, I saw ongoing and recently completed restoration projects and an authentic, clean building. It is my humble opinion that if President Martelly wants to grow tourism in Haiti, the starting point should be in accommodations, which we found to be 5 to 10 times more expensive than in places like Central America–this is what really gives Caroline and me pause about returning.

(This is an informational post. For those looking to read about adventures and stuff, you can skip on to the next post.)

Researching our trip to the Citadelle,we noticed there was a ton of misinformation about how the whole thing works on the internet, especially regarding the costs of seeing the Citadelle. Since most of the traffic on this blog is people searching for information the various places we have gone, we’ll go ahead and provide a complete post about how to do the Citadelle on public transport. All info as of late June 2012.

First, to get a tap-tap, just walk from the center of Cap Haitien towards the bridge and the Texaco Station. Cross the bridge and they leave from the Texaco station, if one hasn’t already flagged you down. Everybody will assume you want to go to Milot. It should cost roughly a dollar.

Once you get to Milot, you’ll be assaulted by guides, guys with horses, motorcycles, crafts–everything.

First thing is a guide. Just pick one that is certified and speaks English, and get him to agree on a price. If he won’t tell you a price, tell him to get lost and talk to another guide. Ours wouldn’t tell us a price, and then after the trip I gave him 1,000 Gds, and he claims he said $30 US. I told him if he could find change for another 1,000 Gds bill he was free to have 200 of it, and he couldn’t find change.

Speaking of currency, BRING US DOLLARS. NOT GOURDES. Everyone seems to hate Gourdes (a recurring theme in Haiti for tourism businesses). You’ll be converting everything at poor rates. And bring small US bills. Even singles would be usable.

Next the entry fee. This is $5 flat rate, or 200 Gds. The Lonely Planet says it is a rather outrageous $25 US per person! The guys at the gate will ask for more than $5. Tell them it’s just $5. Or better yet hand them exact change in US bills. If you have a guide by now, he should definitely have let you know this; if not, ditch him.

Next, the transport. Horses cost $15 each. Not $50 as the Lonely Planet guidebook ridiculously suggests. I have read that if you drive all the way to the top and get a horse in the little parking lot, they are $10. I can’t confirm this.

And yeah, there are horses everywhere. Don’t worry about walking halfway and getting tired or stranded. There will be horses–no doubt about that.

Of course, you’ll have to tip the horse guys. You don’t have control over exactly how many horse guys come with you. Expect $5 or more each. You’ll probably get a sob story if you just try to give them $5. You also need to buy a $1 soft drink for each of them at the top. It’s all a bit awkward–they make you very publicly pay a guy halfway up for the horses, and they tell you it’s “for the bank in Cap Haitien”, not for them. He’ll give you a ticket and everything. We had three horse guys for our two horses.

Motorcycles are $10 each, from what we heard. I don’t know the tricks they pull, if any. They can’t take you up the last part; if you’re not in shape you might have trouble with it. The Creole word for “slow” sounds something along the lines of DEUCE-ma–surely this will come in handy as you round hairpin turns on the side of a mountain.

Your guide does NOT need a horse, contrary to what the LP guidebook says. We rode horses, and it was never even suggested that we buy one for our guide.

The whole thing cost us around $90 for the day: $25 on the guide. $30 on horses. $20 on horse guy tips. $10 to get in. $4 on soft drinks for the guides. A few dollars to get there and back.

Adding up costs in the LP, we were looking at over $200 for two people. That’s very far off base. I don’t know what happened to their researcher when he came through, but you can safely bring $150 for two people and have all your contingencies covered, based on what we saw recently.

Also, it’s seven KILOMETERS and not MILES. Some internet sources say miles. Totally different beasts. We don’t regret taking horses since it was hot and they made the whole thing less trying, but we could do 14km in a day. 14mi is a nonstarter, on the other hand. Still, the horse guys give you hell; it’s a lot easier to just give in.

When you’re reading online, and some people say, “The hike isn’t that bad, it takes a half hour”, they might be talking about driving most of the way up and walking from there. Totally different ballgame from walking all the way from Milot, up 2,000 vertical feet and back down again.

Also, some sources seem to say it’s a difficult walk–the last part up to Citadelle. It didn’t seem hard to me. The path is reasonably well-paved, about 6′ across. A person in reasonably good health can handle just the walk up the last part, no problem. The do the whole thing from Milot, you will need to be in shape.

I’m not sure if a 2WD can make it up to the top. Possibly, but maybe not. Definitely don’t try to get a street taxi to take you up there.

Post any questions you might have below, but I hope I got everything to make this more accessible!

Happy travels!