In April of 1996, my family went on a cruise with Carnival, and it stopped in Grenada.
The waters in the port are too shallow for cruise ships, so you had to take ferry boats over to the shore. Locals would swim or canoe out to the ship and ask you to throw coins for them to catch in their mouths. That’s poverty. I still remember it to this day.
We walked through St. George’s, the capital, and through the local market, famous for its spices.
Next, we went to the site of the coup/assassination that led to US military involvement, then along the coast overlooking the harbor.
Like all idiotic white spring break-ers, I got my hair braided while here. Yikes. Hindsight is 20/20.
We didn’t see this wall, but we bought a postcard of it. It’s really interesting to reflect on, and then we passed this statue en route back to the ship late in the afternoon.This entry was posted in caribbean, grenada, north america