Georgetown

Georgetown is the wooden capital of the continental Caribbean: white cathedrals framed like ships, houses on stilts, and Dutch canals keeping the ocean in line — for the city lives below its level, behind a seawall where the same wind blows every evening. Here the Caribbean speaks English with a Creole lilt and has curry for breakfast.

The sensible traveller walks early: St. George's, among the world's tallest wooden cathedrals; Stabroek market under its iron clock; the botanical gardens with manatees dozing in the ponds. The late afternoon belongs to the seawall, where all Georgetown comes out as the sun drops. And from here you leap inland: Kaieteur Falls, five Niagaras tall, one small plane away.

The Guide's honesty: the city is the door and the country is the prize — book the Kaieteur plane before the hotel —; downtown is walked by day and in company, with an old port's ordinary caution; and the pepperpot is not questioned, it is accepted: the national dish, and a lesson in Amerindian patience.