We managed to make up for Grenada here. Although rain threatened at times, it managed to hold off enough. St Vincent gave us everything we needed, and we didn’t really leave its capital at all.

I again find myself at odds with the pricing dynamic relating to the cost of excursions booked through the ship. I am talking about a visit that cost us US$11 each. Stay tuned to find out what the less adventurous paid.

For the second time in as many days, we had come ashore on a weekend, this time a Sunday, which will become apparent in a few moments. First, though, we shall take a look at some St Vincent facts.

I had assumed, rightly or wrongly, that St Vincent had something to do with hospitals, nurses or doctors, as many medical institutions around the world bear his name. We’ll find out together whether that assumption was correct.

St Vincent itself is the largest island in the country properly known as St Vincent and the Grenadines, sounding like they should have had many hits in the sixties, displacing 133 square miles of surrounding ocean.

It measures, broadly speaking at its longest and widest points, 18 by 11 miles. Its capital, where we were moored for the day, is Kingstown, not to be confused with Kingston in Jamaica.

The nation’s population ranges from 99,000 to 112,000, a reasonable margin for error. The capital appears to host around 35,000 residents, although I did find a figure as low as 12,000.

It doesn’t take long before urban gives way to rural. However you look at it, the population is dense. Let me be clear here, I mean how many people live in each square mile, not the intelligence of the nation.

The island was first discovered, in European terms anyway, on 22 January 1498 by Christopher Columbus. No prizes for guessing that this was the feast day of San Vicente de Zaragoza.

He was a Spanish deacon and martyr tortured to death in 304. As I said, this was the European name, but when Columbus arrived it was already inhabited by the Kalinago people, who knew it as Hairouna, Land of the Blessed.

By the way, for those of you with us last week, Grenada is not part of the Grenadines, even though it lies only about 75 miles from St Vincent. Overall, all of these nations are part of the Windward Islands.

I was, sort of, right about St Vincent, except I had the wrong one. It was St Vincent de Paul who listed the sick among his patronages, not the Zaragoza martyr after whom the island was named.

The Zaragoza saint supports a diverse range of activities including vinegar making, wine making, wine merchanting, sailing and brickmaking. If you spent too long in his company and overindulged, you might need help from the other Vincent.

A Sunday Walk and a Garden Discovery

What were we to do on a sultry Sunday in Kingstown? We could visit the village where the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise was filmed, explore La Soufrière volcano, or swim in Dark View Falls.

Why would we do that when there was a garden for Jane and a fort for me? We couldn’t lose — something for both of us, perfectly balancing our respective interests for the day ahead.

It is a short-to-medium stroll from our mooring to the former. It might be a little uphill — well, nearly all uphill actually — but it is not challenging in any way, shape or form.
On our way, we passed a church. Nothing unusual in that, it was a Sunday after all. The songs emanating from within sounded so full of joy that, had I been inclined, they might have got me dancing.

I do not experience the same feeling when passing an English church. The sound leaking through draughty cracks often feels euphuistic in style; this is my own observation, though many assure me English hymns are uplifting.

If a good old English hymn lifts you to another plane, I suggest standing outside a St Vincentian church on a Sunday morning. You will find it joyful, energetic and, yes, undeniably happy-clappy.

It seems the right moment to share the tale of a couple from our ship. Whilst we stood listening outside, they ventured through the doors and were made so welcome they feared leaving might offend their hosts.

In the end, they stayed for two hours, nearly enjoying every minute. They noted the church was full to overflowing and suggested that, if services were like this back home, Sundays might begin earlier for many people.

It was no more than half an hour along the Leeward Highway to the entrance of the oldest botanical gardens in the Western Hemisphere. Entry cost US$5 each — already excellent value.

After passing through the lobby, we met Anthony, a government-sanctioned tour guide wearing an official-looking lanyard. For US$6 apiece, he proved an outstanding investment and an exceptional source of knowledge.

He was wonderfully gracious about my blindness and nothing was too much trouble. He guided me safely up and down steps, over kerbs and beneath prickly branches with patience and care throughout.

The gardens were established by the British after the island was ceded to them by France under the Treaty of Paris in 1763. Originally, they existed to feed the new colony.

Thanks to fertile volcanic soil rich in minerals and a suitable tropical climate, fruits, vegetables, herbs and spices grew faster and larger than anything previously witnessed by the new colonial owners.

The gardens contain some of the finest and oldest hardwood trees in the region. Teak, ebony and mahogany species stood proudly on display, inviting visitors to gaze upward in genuine awe.

We are all familiar with spices. Some we use regularly, while others migrate quietly to the back of cupboards, slowly turning to dust. At Taylor Towers, cinnamon is firmly among our favourites.

I had never seen cinnamon growing naturally before. Almost any part of the tree, from root to leaf, releases its unmistakable scent when rubbed between your hands and lifted towards your nose.

The spice itself comes from the inner bark, which is processed into quills and sticks before export. Another favourite, coriander, was picked directly from branches, rubbed between fingers and joyfully inhaled.

Honestly, there are few better experiences than a fresh coriander high. Around us grew chives, thyme, basil, bay leaves the size of hands, and, of course, nutmeg once harvested alongside sugar for export to Britain.

I had never encountered a cannonball tree before. Native to Central and northern South America, it thrives in tropical regions worldwide, its heavy spherical fruit hanging directly from the trunk like ornaments.

Each fruit weighs roughly a kilogram and could easily deliver a headache if it fell on you. The flowers bloom at dawn and, shortly before sunset, shrivel and drop away.
By the next sunrise, a fresh set of highly scented blooms appears. Although the fruit possesses medicinal properties and is edible, its overpowering smell discourages most people from eating it.

Places like this delight the unsighted through senses beyond sight. Fragrance, texture, flavour and birdsong combine to create an immersive environment, making this the finest sensory garden I have ever experienced.

Flowers, naturally, are everywhere. Bougainvillea, camellia and hibiscus flourish, including a ceremonial arched tunnel of hibiscus frequently chosen as a romantic backdrop for weddings.

Hibiscus blooms throughout the year but reaches peak splendour during warmer, wetter months from April onwards. Couples from across the world gather here, leaving with photographs destined to outlast some marriages.

As for fauna, we visited the delightful Nicholls Wildlife Aviary Complex, home to the Amazona guildingii — the St Vincent parrot. Onlookers marvelled at the remarkable acrobatics performed by these vibrant birds.

Anthony proudly described royal visits to the gardens. In 2012, the Earl and Countess of Wessex planted a tree during Queen Elizabeth II’s Diamond Jubilee celebrations.
Prince Harry followed in 2016 to mark the Queen’s 90th birthday, and in 2019 the then Prince of Wales arrived during a Caribbean tour. Yes — he also planted a tree.

Value for Money, and Looking Ahead

Before leaving this idyllic place, a word about Cunard’s excursion pricing. Our visit cost just US$11 each, including Anthony’s superb guided tour — extraordinary value by any standard.
Passengers booking through the ship would have paid US$83 per person. Granted, this included transport, although many ports require lengthy walks before even reaching the excursion pickup point.

During a pre-prandial drink, another passenger noted that some travellers require organised tours due to mobility concerns. That is entirely understandable, though the gardens themselves remain physically demanding in places.

Wheelchair access appeared limited, and I doubt visitors on structured tours could have experienced the same intimate contact with plants that we enjoyed by exploring independently.

My greatest frustration lies with the price difference, particularly when comparable local experiences can be arranged for around US$20. Some passengers simply prefer the perceived security of official excursions.

Next time, we shall wander further uphill to Fort Charlotte, another magical attraction. Peel back its layers and you uncover an entirely new purpose for the old fortress.

Find Out More
Kingstown Botanic Garden: https://www.svg-bgproject.com
St Vincent: https://www.discoversvg.com

White Cane Ratings ©
Kingstown Botanic Gardens: very good, companion recommended - 🦯 🦯 🦯 🦯 (4)
Kingstown: poor, deep unprotected gullies, companion essential - 🦯 (1)