In the sun-scorched streets of Pointe-a Pitre, Guadeloupe, buzzy energy bubbled up from the narrow lanes and the scent of spices and frying dough mingled with the sea breeze. The first time I arrived on the archipelago, I was struck by the chaotic mix of old world and new: crayon-coloured 18th-Century buildings next to storefront mannequins dressed in patterned leggings and tanks; a graffiti artist spray painting a crumbling 19th-Century warehouse.