Feature

“Hey Dave,” says the owner of the guest house, sticking his head round the corner as the sun starts to set. “We’re heading into town – do you want a lift anywhere?”

I only make it as far as the blue shack at the top of the hill. It's 'People's Place', the spot where I spent the previous evening getting progressively more pickled with a couple of foreign office workers and a group of Rastafarians playing dominos. “Hey Dave,” calls out John, the barman. “You thirsty?” I’ve been on the island for just over 24 hours, and I’m officially one of the locals.

This humble bar sums up the Montserrat vibe perfectly. It attracts the most diverse clientele you’re ever likely to see; a sample cast includes islanders that moved to the UK returning home to catch up with friends and family, the island’s attorney general and Rooster the would-be Hot Sauce magnate. Drivers on their way home stop by to get a pizza, a round system quickly develops and earnest proclamations about going to church tomorrow, irrespective of hangover, are taken with an increasingly large pinch of salt.

Emerald Isle

There are two reasons that Montserrat is called the Caribbean’s “Emerald Isle”. The first is a significant Irish heritage – it’s the only place in the world aside from Ireland that has St Patrick’s Day as a national holiday, and most of the Montserratians have Irish surnames. Turn up in the week around St Pat’s and you’ll see the sort of party that you didn’t know a tiny island of just 5,000 could produce.

The second reason is that it is extremely green and hilly. Forest paths with iguanas scuttling across and hillsides patrolled by mooching cows are the norm. There are plenty of hiking trails for those wanting to do it properly, but there’s equal pleasure to be had in ambling along the winding roads, up and down the hills and towards the occasional stall selling fried chicken or cold drinks. Everyone wants to talk, and not just to sell you things – they genuinely want to know how you’re enjoying their little slice of paradise.

The tourist board used to advertise the island under the slogan “the way the Caribbean used to be” and this still holds true. There are no cruise ships, no casinos, no resorts and no giant duty free shopping centres. Montserrat offers an altogether different type of Caribbean holiday. There are a few cute black sand beaches, boat trips and diving expeditions, but it’s mainly about kicking back and adopting the slow pace that the Caribbean was formerly famous for.

Soufriere Hills

Montserrat’s big draw card, however, is the volcano. In 1995, Soufriere Hills awoke from a 400 year dormant slumber and has been intermittently erupting ever since. The effect it had on the island was devastating. Two-thirds of Montserrat is now an exclusion zone, largely buried by ash and mudslides. It was that two-thirds of the island which included the now-buried capital, Plymouth, and most of the housing. More than half the population left for a new life overseas but the rest upped sticks and moved to the north. It was an area colloquially regarded as being “behind God’s back” and fit only for wandering goats. Every islander has a story about the upheaval, and Montserrat now has a population of vulcanologists. Even the most unlikely candidates spit out phrases such as “pyroclastic flow” as part of their everyday vocabulary.

The locals treat the volcano with a surprising nonchalance, rushing up to lookouts such as Jack Boy Hill at night when there’s activity so they can have a good gawp. For visitors, the Soufriere Hills experience is something genuinely unique that cannot be seen anywhere else in the world.

Volcano Observatory

Aside from Jack Boy Hill, the best place do a bit of volcano watching is the Montserrat Volcano Observatory. This is where scientists from all over the world monitor the rumbling beast. For the tourists, there’s an exhibition on what the volcano has done, what comes out of it and how the island was formed by volcanic activity in the first place. There’s also a DVD presentation with phenomenal footage of the eruptions. The best bits are outside, however. Looking out over the helipad towards the steam vents on the sides of the growing crater shows that the monster clearly isn’t ready to go back to bed yet.
 
Belham River

The truly jaw-dropping views come from getting a little closer, however. There is an area of the exclusion zone that it is forbidden to go into at night, but with a skilled local taxi driver, can be accessed during the day. The Belham River is an extraordinary sight. What once was a pretty stream has become a wasteland. Its course down from Soufriere Hills can be traced by the thick field of ash, sludge and volcanic rock. It’s like it has been poisoned, burst its banks to a terrifying extent and then solidified. All that can be seen now around where it flowed are dead trees and the odd destroyed building. One of them is the former club house of one of the Caribbean’s best golf courses. The greens and fairways are under the sea of grey gunk, yet either side of the trail of debris is lush forest. It has an immense wow factor, but providing the river is crossable, the real heart-in-mouth moment is yet to come.

Garibaldi Hill and Plymouth

The track up to the top of Garibaldi Hill is very rough indeed – hence the need for a driver who knows what he is doing. But it’s impossible to restrain the “oh my God” once you get to the top. The view over the old capital, Plymouth, is incomparable to any other on earth.

Plymouth was a pretty colonial-style town before 1995. Unfortunately, the prevailing winds meant it was in the worst possible spot for the ash and rocks from the volcano. It was first buried and then burned. Seeing it twelve years after it was abandoned is like visiting the planet 100 years after humanity has died out. There are still patches of green, completely untouched by the devastation, but the rest is a sea of grey. The remaining, ash-drenched buildings were on the outskirts of town – the desert through the middle was the centre. It’s completely wiped out.

Plymouth has been called a modern day Pompeii, and in time, the crowds will flock to see it. Go now, however, and the chances are that it’ll be just you standing there looking out over it. It’s a much more moving experience now than it will be when the tour groups catch on.

Rebuilding

And they will come before long. Montserrat is slowly getting back on its feet and has rolled the welcome mat out, even if it has a sprinkling of dust on it. Construction of a new capital is underway at Little Bay (how many people can say they’ve seen a capital city being built from scratch?) and there is hope that the intermittent ferry service from neighbouring Antigua will become permanent.

Until then, the few that do venture out to Montserrat are likely to find something special. The beaches and the boats rides are a bonus – this is one Caribbean island that is completely different, and one where every visitor will be greeted with 5,000 remarkable stories.

For more information on Montserrat visit our destination guide

Further information: www.visitmontserrat.com

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About the writer:

Since winning the Guardian Student Travel Writer of the Year award in 2001, David has been published in newspapers and magazines across the world, including the Sunday Times, Sydney Morning Herald and the Boston Globe.