The Arima–Blanchisseuse Road
The Arima–Blanchisseuse Road cuts through the middle of the steamy Northern Range forest, climbing high into misty, breeze-cooled peaks, between which Brasso Seco village is an excellent starting point for exploring the waterfalls that course through the mountains. A little closer to civilization you descend to the Asa Wright Nature Centre, one of the Caribbean’s finest birdwatching sites. The sharply winding, potholed and generally ill-kept road is not for the faint of heart (especially as parts of it had been rendered surfaceless by ongoing drainage work at the time of writing), but the payoff is tremendous. Light filtering through the overhanging canopies of mahogany, teak, poui, cedar and immortelle colours the tunnel-like road green, and every available surface is smothered in plant life: mosses, ferns and lichens cover rocks and tree trunks already laden with massive wild pine bromeliads, and vines and monkey’s ladder lianas trail down to the tarmac.
Closer to Arima, the road dips downhill, rounding spectacular corners and passing hillsides cleared for christophene cultivation supported on rough trellises (the fruits, which resemble avocado pears, are commonly used in Chinese cooking), and former cocoa estates left to grow wild. As the jungle thins out and a few sporadic buildings appear, look out for the numerous Hindu prayer flags fluttering in the breeze and tiny do-it-yourself temples on the eastern side of the road.
Asa Wright Nature Centre
Internationally famous for its birdwatching, the 1500-acre Asa Wright Nature Centre was originally a coffee, citrus and cocoa plantation. In 1947 it was bought by Dr Newcome Wright and his Icelandic wife, Asa. Both were keen naturalists and birdwatchers, and when the New York Zoological Society set up the Simla Tropical Research Station on neighbouring land, the couple began to accommodate visiting researchers. After her husband died, Mrs Wright sold the land on the condition it remained a conservation area. A non-profit-making trust was set up in 1967, which established a nature centre for naturalists and birdwatchers, a first in the Caribbean. Simla donated its land and research station to the centre in 1970, and though tropical research is still undertaken here, Asa Wright is mainly visited these days as one of the most popular birdwatching retreats in the Caribbean. Resident guests tend to be middle-aged to retired North American or British bird fanatics, enthusiastically compiling checklists of the day’s sightings over sunset rum punches, single malts and reminiscences of the good old days. You can also visit as a half-day trip, watching birds from the veranda, taking a tour of the grounds and having lunch or afternoon tea. Between January and April (Mon–Fri), tours from docked cruise ships often crowd the centre from mid-morning to mid-afternoon; if you’re not staying here but still wish to do some birdwatching during these times, arrive before 10am to avoid the rush.
Brasso Seco
Tucked away at the end of a well-signposted turn-off from the Arima–Blanchisseuse Road, a good up-and-down 7km from Morne La Croix or Asa Wright, BRASSO SECO is a naturalists’ dream. Translating as “dry branch” in reference to an arm of the Paria River which only ever gets wet in heavy rainy seasons, the village is populated by people of mixed Amerindian, Spanish and African descent (and clearly recognizable as such; some of the elders still speak Spanish); known as “cocoa panyols”, many are descended from people who moved to Trinidad from Venezuela in the nineteenth century to work on the burgeoning cocoa and coffee estates.
Today, the village is probably the best base for hiking in Trinidad, owing to its proximity to both mountains and coastline, at least five waterfalls and numerous river pools, as well as its variety of accommodation options. Though few serious birdwatchers come to the area, the diversity they find here often exceeds that of the island’s well-known birdwatching centres; scientists from a variety of universities have made this their base for studying rarely seen species and leking sites (communal display sites where males show off their prowess to potential mates). Red-legged honeycreepers, bearded bellbirds, tufted coquette hummingbirds, all types of parrot, green and red macaws, the black-faced ant-thrush and the endangered piping guan are all to be found, among innumerable others.
Hunkered under the dramatic 941m peak of El Cerro del Aripo to the south, the community is charming, languorous and picturesque, consisting of converted cocoa sheds and still-occupied tapia houses, alongside a rum shop-cum-parlour, church, school and community centre. Children play cricket in the middle of the road, young men lime outside the rec club and everyone has time to greet each other.
If you’re in Trinidad in mid-October, try to get up to Brasso Seco for their annual village festival, which celebrates local culture, indigenous and otherwise, by way of dancing, parang and plenty of amazing local food and drink, from wine and cocoa to pastelles and smoked meat.
The East–West Corridor
Spreading south from the flanks of the Northern Range, the East–West Corridor is a sprawling conurbation between Trinidad’s east and west coasts, its numerous communities so close together it’s hard to tell where one tails off and another begins. Its whole length is traversed by three separate roads running parallel: the first, the traffic-clogged Eastern Main Road (EMR) is lined with shops, businesses, restaurants and rum bars for almost its entire distance; people partially avoid the rush by taking the second road, the Priority Bus Route – a fast-track thoroughfare for public transport just south of the EMR, built where the now-obsolete train tracks were once in service; the third is the multi-lane Churchill Roosevelt Highway a kilometre or so to the south. The highway has encouraged major development in the form of three large shopping malls, signposted along its route, while it’s also the access point for Piarco International Airport.
Frenetic, hot and dusty as it is, the East–West Corridor does have sights worth seeing. The EMR is the gateway to the old Spanish capital of St Joseph, where elegant colonial edifices sit incongruously with a more recent rash of concrete. The Mount St Benedict Monastery dominates the hillside eastwards, providing panoramic views of the Caroni Plains, superlative birdwatching, and a restful spot for afternoon tea. Heading north into the mountains, a series of access roads to Maracas, Caura, Lopinot and Guanapo all lead to off-the-beaten-path waterfalls, river swimming and hiking. And the grinding pace of traffic along the EMR itself at least allows you to absorb the commercial chaos outside of the capital. The road buzzes with life – shoppers dodging delivery trucks throng the pavements and vendors fill the air with the sweet aroma of street food.
In terms of accommodation, much of the area can be visited on day-trips from the capital, though there is a stand-out guesthouse at Mount St Benedict and a couple of options in Arima that are conveniently close to the airport and other sights such as the Asa Wright Nature Centre and mountain waterfalls.
Arima
Named “Naparima” by its original indigenous inhabitants, ARIMA is situated 6.5km from the Lopinot turn-off of the EMR, or about 7km from Piarco airport along the highway. The third largest town in Trinidad, it’s also one of the most confusing places for drivers as the EMR departs from its ruler-straight course and gets swiftly swallowed up in a complicated one-way system through the urban clamour of shops, banks and wandering pedestrians; it’s far easier to soak up the hustle, bustle and blaring soca and reggae on foot if you wish to explore. The attractions of Arima are decidedly limited: the main landmark is the Arima Dial, featuring a four-faced timepiece presented to the townspeople by then-mayor John Francis Wallen in 1898, while on Hollis Avenue the line of local street vendors stops at a small park with a statue of venerated calypsonian Lord Kitchener. There’s an open-air market (liveliest on Sat), while the adjacent Arima Velodrome is the setting for many a wild Carnival fete.
The Caribs of Arima
Arima has a far deeper history than its commercial facade would suggest, as it’s home to what’s left of Trinidad’s Amerindian (Carib) community, most of whom live around the crucifix-strewn Calvary Hill, a precipitous thoroughfare that overlooks the town from the north and connects to the Arima–Blanchisseuse Road. Many are distant relatives of the Carinepogoto tribe who once inhabited the Northern Range, and family names such as Boneo, Campo, Calderon, Castillo, Hernandez, Martinez and Peña are common. Though the community has dwindled over the years, there have been efforts of late to preserve Carib traditions and heritage.
The main festival in the local Carib calendar is the Feast of Santa Rosa de Lima, held over the last weekend of August. The oldest continuously celebrated event in Trinidad, having been inaugurated in 1786, it’s also the only one in the island that honours the first canonized Roman Catholic saint of the “New World”. Following a morning of church services, the year’s Carib King and Queen are crowned, and a white-gowned statue of Santa Rosa is paraded through the streets, the procession bedecked with white, yellow, pink and red roses. Rum flows, and traditional Amerindian foods such as pastelles and cassava bread are eaten. The origins of the festival are somewhat murky, but in true fairy-tale style, Carib elders relate that three hunters chanced upon a young girl lying in the woods, and brought her back to Calvary Hill. She disappeared three times, only to be returned to the community. A local priest told the Caribs that this was no normal child but the spirit of Santa Rosa, and that they should make an image of her while she was still with them, for if she vanished again, her physical body would never be seen again. They made the statue, and the girl duly disappeared, leaving only a crown of roses where she had first been discovered. Ever since, Santa Rosa has been the patron saint of Arima’s Carib community.
Aripo Road and around
Lonely fields line the EMR for a couple of kilometres east of Heights of Guanapo Road before it meets the nondescript-looking Aripo Road, which meanders northwards uphill for 14km into the mountains, following a valley cut by the Aripo River. As the road is rough and potholed, you’ll need a car with high clearance. The road’s upper reaches are pretty and pass through some quiet rural communities. If you’re in the mood for a river swim, look out for a metal arch with the inscription “Jai Guru Data”; take the steps down the hill to a deep pool.
Aripo Caves
Even though they’re weather-beaten and battered, you can still make out the Forestry Division signs along the road which point the way to the Aripo Caves, Trinidad’s largest system of caverns; note that a guide is essential if you plan on exploring them, as they will take care of the permissions required to enter the area, a scientific reserve. After a cocoa grove – which sports fruits that turn purple when ripe rather than the usual orange – there’s a clearing where you can park, and a sign for the trail. The fairly taxing two- to three-hour trek through undisturbed forest, with plenty of hills and gullies to navigate, is best undertaken in the dry season (Jan–March), when the three rivers that cross the path usually slow to a trickle; if it’s been raining, you’ll have to wade them. In the rainy season, you’ll also have to get wet to enter the caves, as a river courses straight into the mouth – the going can be slippery. Nearing the entrance to the caves, you get the occasional view of the Central Plains below, and you’ll start to hear the unearthly rasping shriek of one of the island’s few colonies of oilbirds. The mouth is large and dramatic, with a rather fusty mist rising constantly. Water drips from the limestone roof, and every surface is covered with fruit stones and guano. With a good torch you can navigate the rocks and go fairly deep inside, but the oilbirds’ cries near an ear-splitting pitch; the Amerindians named them “Guacharo”, meaning “the one who wails and mourns”. If you want to go deeper, you’ll need rope, a compass and caving experience.
Caura Valley
Towards the eastern end of Tunapuna, itself a bustling conurbation with a lively fruit and veg market, the Caura Royal Road turns north to the Caura Valley – one of the most popular picnic spots on the East–West Corridor. Carved by the serpentine Tacarigua River, the valley was nearly turned into a reservoir in the 1940s: the inhabitants – many mixed Amerindian and Spanish – were relocated to Lopinot and even Brasso Seco, but the proposed dam was thwarted by the sandy soil and never built.
About 6km up the Caura Royal Road from the EMR is a right turn that will take you to a well-used swimming spot. Picnic tables line the bamboo-fringed riverbanks, and at weekends cooking fires smoulder and the shallow water is crowded with families enjoying a dip – though it does often look murky in the dry season.
Past the picnic spots, high walls of bamboo form an intermittent tunnel over the road, opening up to reveal small-scale farms and homes at La Veronica hamlet. As the Caura Royal Road emerges onto the Tacarigua riverbanks, the water deepens and picnicking is more secluded – the road is eventually terminated by a river tributary. The drive back to the EMR affords some spectacular views of the central plains that are easily missed on the way up.
Curepe and St Augustine
CUREPE is a hub for transport all over the island: route taxis and maxis go from here to Port of Spain, east along the EMR as well as south to San Fernando and into the mountains of the Northern Range – though if you’re heading to Lopinot, you should change at Arouca further east. There’s little to stimulate the imagination in Curepe, save for locally famous doubles vendor Sauce, south of the bus terminus; people drive all the way from Port of Spain just for a Curepe doubles fix.
Curepe merges imperceptibly into St Augustine, a wealthier residential area north of the EMR, while just south the Priority Bus Route mounts a cut-stone flyover under which a road takes you to the University of the West Indies St Augustine Campus. Usually referred to by its acronym, UWI (“yoo-wee”) also has branches in Jamaica and Barbados. The campus was formerly a sugar plantation, and the great house now serves as the principal’s home. The students are a cosmopolitan mix from across the Caribbean, and the campus offers numerous fast-food outlets and the especially comfy Rituals coffee shop.
Heights of Guanapo Road
The Churchill Roosevelt Highway comes to an abrupt end east of Arima, with barely signposted turns north to the EMR, which itself switches abruptly from commercial thoroughfare to rural road, dominated by farmland and an impenetrable wall of rainforest pierced by a few country lanes leading to some marvellous natural attractions. Just after the EMR meets a road heading northwards to join the Arima–Blanchisseuse Road, a turn-off marked “WASA Guanapo Waterworks” brings you to the Heights of Guanapo Road, which runs along the Guanapo River for 3km before petering out into a country lane, often churned up by logging vehicles and best accessed by four-wheel-drive. The logging activity in the area is kept pretty low-key and the area remains a peaceful and beautiful hikers’ paradise, for which you’ll need the help of a knowledgeable guide. Though you can drive further uphill for the lovely views at La Laja Heights, it’s a good idea to park in the large clearing below where logging workers have built a hut, and then walk, as the road is heavily potholed. The main attractions of the area are the breathtaking Guanapo Gorge, and the La Laja and Sombasson waterfalls, two of the most impressive on the island. With effort, you can see both the falls and the gorge in a day, but you’ll need to be pretty fit.
Lopinot
Ten kilometres from the EMR, via a winding road lined with lush jungle and Caribbean pines, LOPINOT is a pretty hamlet with a remote feel, clustered around a sports field and the neat flowerbeds of a former cocoa estate that has been transformed into a beautiful recreation spot.
The valley was first settled by one Charles Josef, Compte de Lopinot, a planter who fled Haiti following Toussaint L’Ouverture’s 1791 revolution. He arrived in 1800 with his wife and a hundred slaves, and it’s not difficult to see why he chose to settle in this absurdly abundant alluvial valley surrounded by high, protective mountains. Lopinot’s cocoa thrived, allowing him to build a tapia estate house, a prison and slave quarters and to amass a small fortune before his death in 1819. The Compte is buried alongside his wife by the Arouca River, which runs through the valley, and local legend has it that on stormy full moon nights his ghost rides through the estate on a white horse. A photograph taken in 1981, now on display in the great house, claims to show exactly that.
Today, Lopinot is a great place to picnic or to take a gentle hike into the surrounding forest. The community’s annual Fiesta de Lopinot, a festival of parang, food and drink, takes place in late November, and is well worth checking out, as is the Cocoa Innovations festival, staged at Café Mariposa on the Saturday after Carnival, a fantastic celebration of cooking with cocoa with lots of samples of savoury and sweet delights.
Maracas–St Joseph Valley
Cutting inland from the EMR at St Joseph, Abercromby Street becomes Maracas Royal Road less than a kilometre from the EMR, crossing the grand First River Bridge and winding north into the lush MARACAS–ST JOSEPH VALLEY. Maracas itself is a tiny place with a post office and the steepled church of St Michael, the houses separated by clumps of fluffy bamboo and neat provision grounds. A few kilometres further on, the Maracas Royal Road ends at Loango Village, at a T-junction with the bumpy tarmac of San Pedro Road. There is easy access to bathing pools along the Maracas River here, the deepest usually filled with swimmers from the village. The riverbed is scattered with sparkling bronze sedimentary rocks, which fed rumours of gold deposits in the early twentieth century.
Yerette
Set in a private home overlooking the Maracas valley, Yerette is one of the island’s prime visitor attractions, allowing you to get a magical, close-up view of the many hummingbirds found in Trinidad. Some thirteen species are regular visitors, drinking delicately from the hundreds of sugar-water feeders dotted around the terrace and flowered gardens, and making acrobatic dives and swoops through the air as they perform complicated courtship rituals or defend their territory with surprising aggression. Most common are the metallic emerald-and magenta-tailed copper-rumped hummingbirds, but (depending upon the season) you may also see the spectacular flame-tailed ruby-topaz and the equally colourful tufted coquette, the second-smallest bird in the world. Visits are chaperoned by Yerette’s charismatic owner, Theo Ferguson, who provides some background on these fascinating little birds as well as taking you through a slide show that details each of the seventeen hummingbird species found in Trinidad. You’re also able to browse a gallery of exquisitely detailed photographs (all of which are available to buy) as well as hummingbird-themed craft items, and the visit includes a delicious breakfast, lunch or afternoon tea.
Note that all visits must be booked in advance, usually a week ahead at least, as Yerette is very oversubscribed and does not operate regular hours.
Maracas Valley Waterfall
It’s well worth heading deep into Maracas–St Joseph Valley to see the Maracas Valley Waterfall, which crashes magnificently down 90m of sheer rock. At the end of Waterfall Road you can park and, if needed, locate a guide at the neighbouring house; the route is simple and easy to follow independently, but guides can impart some interesting background on the trees and flowers en route. After twenty minutes of uphill walking along a wide track lined by groves of tall balata trees, a path strikes off right to three tiers of mini-waterfalls with two swimmable, ice-cold pools. Signs warning “no candles” are puzzling until you near the main falls twenty minutes further; here you’ll see clusters of candles or pools of wax on the rocks, left by followers of the Hindu, Spiritual Baptist and Orisha religions, who regard the waterfall as a sacred place.
Hikes from Maracas–St Joseph
The Maracas–St Joseph Valley is the starting point for a couple of adventurous hikes. From the Maracas River bathing pools you can hike over the mountains to Maracas Bay, a stiff three-hour trek along an old fisherman’s trail, or – if you’ve got the stamina – climb the 936m El Tucuche (variously pronounced “tuh-cutchee” or “too-koosh”), Trinidad’s second-highest mountain. It’s an eight-hour round trip, and a section of the trail is bordered by a tree-covered, 300m cliff, but you’ll be rewarded by epiphyte-laden montane as well as high-altitude, mist-drenched elfin forests. If you’re lucky, you’ll see red howler monkeys, though you’re unlikely to catch a glimpse of the golden tree frog, Trinidad’s only endemic animal which lives in the waterlogged leaves of wild pine bromeliads.
A guide is essential for both of these walks – try Paria Springs, Caribbean Discovery Tours or Ieri Nature Tours.
Mount St Benedict
Towering over St Augustine with phenomenal views of the south of Trinidad coast to coast is the Mount St Benedict Monastery. An eye-catching network of white-walled, red-roofed buildings dominating the hillside, the monastery was established in 1912 by Benedictine monks fleeing religious persecution in Brazil. The first of its kind in the Caribbean, the monastery initially consisted of nothing more than a mud-walled, thatch-roofed ajoupa at the peak of Mount Tabor; additional buildings were added over the years, including in 1918 a gorgeous burnt-orange central tapia house, now slowly crumbling. With a boxy steeple tower forming the tallest portion of the complex, at 243m above sea level, the imposing church was consecrated as an abbey in 1947. In keeping with their motto “ora et labora” (prayers and work), the ten (now ageing) resident monks maintain an estate of coffee, cocoa, citrus and planted forest, as well as producing delicious yoghurt for domestic use and commercial sale. Mount St Benedict houses the Caribbean’s main regional training college for priests, the St John Vianney and the Uganda Martyrs Seminary, which is also UWI’s theology faculty. Nearby St Bede’s Vocational School is also run by the monks, who teach local youngsters practical skills such as machining, welding, plumbing and carpentry. Though firmly a centre of Catholic study and worship, the site nonetheless remains inclusively Trinidadian, with Spiritual Baptists and Hindus undertaking pilgrimages here at different times of the year.
For a panoramic view of Trinidad that surpasses even the vistas at the monastery, take the Alben Ride trail just before the final monastery buildings and climb the fire tower, built to give warning of blazes in the plantations below.
St Joseph
Old meets new as you follow the EMR east across the bridge into ST JOSEPH, Trinidad’s oldest European town and first official capital. On the right is the elaborate Mohammed Al Jinnah Memorial Mosque, resplendent with a crescent- and star-topped main dome flanked by two minarets (there’s not much to see inside, but drop by the caretaker’s house behind the mosque if you want to take a look). The main streets, however, are on St Joseph Hill just to the north, lined with genteel colonial French and Spanish architecture jostling with newer concrete structures.
Brief history
In 1592, Lieutenant Domingo de Vera founded a town on the site of an Amerindian settlement. Christening it San José de Oruna, de Vera built a church, a prison-cum-police barracks (the rebuilt remains of which are to be found directly opposite the mosque), a governor’s residence and a cabildo (town hall). In 1595 Sir Walter Raleigh attacked San José, burning down the church and the barracks, though by 1606 both were rebuilt, only to be destroyed by the Dutch in 1637 and ransacked by Caribs in 1640. During the eighteenth century, San José prospered as a plantation town, but in 1766 was hit by a devastating earthquake. It never really recovered, and eighteen years later the last Spanish governor relocated the capital to Port of Spain. The town’s troubles weren’t over yet, however; in 1837, a detachment of the British West Indian Regiment stationed here mutinied. Led by a Yoruba ex-slave known as Daaga, the soldiers were protesting against the apprenticeship system that kept freed Africans in a state of semi-slavery. They set fire to the barracks and fought for several days before being overwhelmed. In the aftermath, forty Africans lay dead, and Daaga and two of his comrades were executed by firing squad.
Leatherback turtles
Weighing up to 700kg and measuring up to a metre across, leatherback turtles have undergone few evolutionary alterations in their 150-million-year history. Named for the soft, leathery texture of their ridged, blue-grey carapace (more like a skin than a shell, which bleeds if cut), leatherbacks spend most of the year in cool temperate waters gorging on jellyfish. During the egg-laying season (March–Aug), females swim thousands of miles, returning to the beach of their birth to lay their own eggs in the sand, a fascinating and moving process that usually takes place under the cover of night.
Leatherbacks can return to the same beach up to ten times per season – a necessary repetition, as only sixty percent of all eggs laid will mature into hatchlings. Many are dug up by dogs or poachers, and only one or two eggs from each clutch will become fully-grown turtles. Hatchlings emerge from the sand about sixty days later and make a moon-guided dash for the sea; if they’re lucky, they’ll escape being eaten by predators.
Turtle-watching
The best spots for turtle-watching are Grande Riviere and Matura in Trinidad, and Stonehaven and Turtle beaches in Tobago. Turtles also nest on many other beaches in both islands, from Las Cuevas and Paria to Pirate’s Bay, but only the places listed above offer organized trips with trained guides. If you do want to go turtle-watching (or if you happen upon a laying turtle by chance), it’s important to ensure that your presence doesn’t disturb the laying process. Guides use infra-red lights when close to turtles, and it’s best to avoid using torches anywhere on laying beaches; flash photography is a no-no, though bear in mind that in places such as Grande Riviere, many turtles lay in the early morning or even in full sunshine, allowing to photograph the event non-invasively. On laying beaches it’s best to walk close to the shoreline so as to avoid compacting the sand and damaging nests, and of course never discard plastic bags on the beach, as many turtles die after eating them, mistaking them for jellyfish. Though they’re rarely seen these days, souvenirs made from turtle-shells are illegal and are obviously not something you should consider buying.
