Riding from Georgetown along the coast towards Suriname is a fairly slow, but quite pleasant little journey. The endless little villages are all pretty much merged together into one long suburb, though a careful eye can catch the small signs naming each one. And it’s catching these names that becomes one of the real treats of the ride. At first the names are all good, if occasionally amusing, English ones- Bladen Hall, Miss Phoebe, Bachelors Adventure, Beehive, etc . Then Dutch ones begin appear, adding their Hand en Veldt, Weldaad, and Goed Hopes to the mix.
As if to confirm the change in the towns naming convention, the sights started to take on a distinctly Dutch feel as well.
When I finally got to the border, the last ferry of the day had already crossed so I was forced to spend the night… At another lovely little border town. The hotel was safe and clean and the town was fairly quiet and friendly, but the real standout was the food. For dinner I ordered a bowl of veggie chow mien and after the first bite I immediately ordered another. The noodles were perfectly cooked and the wide variety of veggies were still crunchy, but instead of Chinese flavours, I got wonderful Indian masala spices! It was a combination that I had never even considered, but having had it, will always remember.
The morning brought another curious little culinary encounter that I’m sure will stick with me. My search for a cup of coffee lead me to the docks and a little shack serving good coffee… and shredded chicken wrapped in a pancake with a very spicy chili/garlic sauce. Where else do you start the day sitting on a rotting dock, feet dangling just above the water, one hand holding an old chipped tea cup with wonderfuly strong back coffee, and the other with a spicy chicken pancake?
I don’t know who Larry was, but when that saying came about he must have been seen enjoying the same morning I was…