"I feel like Dorothy stepping into the Land of Oz!" said my sister, Laura, when we arrived in Grenada, the sunny Caribbean nation in the southern West Indies. We had left New England that morning under thick gray clouds that spewed a teeth-chattering, wet mix of sleet, snow, and ice. Now we were shedding sweaters and soaking in the colorful landscape of the "Isle of Spice."
Green mountain slopes rose from turquoise waters, while tropical flowers and trailing bougainvillea bloomed under a robin's-egg-blue sky. We spent an hour or two just walking the white sands of Grand Anse Beach, considered one of the Caribbean's finest. It would have been easy enough to while away the evening there, too; a variety of waterfront resorts, restaurants, and shops flank the popular beach. But it was Friday night, and we knew exactly where we wanted to go: north to Gouyave, a small fishing village on Grenada's west coast, for Fish Friday Festival.
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