Whack, whack, whack! This was the first sound, which greeted us as we walked towards the Saturday market in Point de Pitre. Machetes hammered through fish steaks. Scent was our second sense assaulted as we approached the local fish venders. Stand after stand along the water of not just fish, but multitudes of mahi mahi, sacks of snapper, tons of tuna, way too much wahoo, packs of parrot fish, crazy crabs bundled together in vines, bags of ballyhoo, realms of rays and one lonely lobster on steroids. No wonder we can never catch a dorado - they are all in the market at Guadeloupe. Hugh, we are talking 40 pound tunas and 4 ft mahis that Connor and I can only dream of catching. We watched the locals descale the fish, slice off spines and on the big catches, mark inch and a half slices into the fish. Then, taking a mallet they hammered the machete through the girth of 4 foot dorado. A kilo for 8 Euro, what a bargain, and although we (that is Connor and I) have sworn to not buy fish to appease the fishing gods, we just couldn't resist.

To give our noses a rest, we entered the covered vegetable market and haggled for produce and then visited the local ladies bedecked in checkered Guadeloupian headdresses, vibrant lipstick and full skirts falling to the floor as they hawked their spices but refused to pose for pictures. With our bags full and our senses satiated, we returned to Windancer to store our provisions before venturing off to tour the rest of the island.