A Day at the Beach – Sneak-attacked by a Wave, A Pushy “Salesman” and The Discovery that Even Paradise Has a Dark Side

Once again, I awoke to sun, clear skies and soaring temperatures with no sign of the rain and thunderstorms that were predicted for the week.  I was really enjoying my stay at Angler Apartments so far.  It was quiet, relaxing, my room was comfortable and the food was delicious.  Angler was exactly the type of accommodations I was looking for.  It was so different from staying in one of those boring all-inclusive resorts.  I awoke every morning to the sound of regular every-day people going about their regular every-day tasks.  I ate real food and not disgusting buffet meals prepared by simply adding water to them and that sit out in the sun all day gathering germs and the like.  My food was made right from scratch.  If I wanted to relax, all I had to do was step outside onto my step and there was nature all around me – monkeys, tropical birds, lizards and weird bugs that I am not exactly sure what they were (or if they were poisonous for that matter).  Every night I fell asleep to the sounds of trees rustling in the breeze and thousands of cicadas and birds and insects outside my window and not to the sound of drunken tourists screaming and getting on like wild animals who had escaped the zoo for the first time.  Yes, Angler was a special place that allowed me to get an authentic taste of Barbados and things do get interesting sometimes when one decides to travel off-the-beaten path and escape beyond the sheltered confines and security of gated resorts.

The Entrance to Angler Apartments

The more time I spent at Angler, the more familiar I became with the rhythm and routine of the neighborhood.  Chandra had mentioned the dreadful Ice Cream truck that passes by every day blaring its cheerful music (with sinister undertones like the tunes you would hear in one those horror movies that features clowns that kill people) that agitates the dogs.  She said she had asked the guy to tone down the noise as he passed her place but apparently after that, he just did it more.  I witnessed this myself on this morning.  It started as a faint and distant melody over the hill somewhere, perhaps a couple of streets over.  With each passing minute, it got louder and louder until it was only a couple of blocks away and that is when the dogs started to howl.  I’m not sure if the sound hurt their ears or if they were trying to howl along with it.  All I know is they awoke from their mid-morning naps, ran towards the gate and howled like their lives were being threatened.  And I swear the guy riding that little ice cream truck slowed down in front of the gates and stayed there longer than anywhere else just to agitate them and everyone else.  This happened every single morning.

With my beach towel and book in hand, I started for the beach where I planned to relax for the day.  I liked my little “private” beach but, on this day, I decided to immerse myself into the general population and get a better feel for the place and meet some of the people.  I walked in the direction of the little boardwalk and beach by the fish market. 

As I walked along the road, hanging onto tree branches to avoid being run over, I noticed some peculiar things and met some “interesting” characters.  I noticed that almost everyone who passed me gave a friendly wave and a smile as they drove by.  The only places where I’ve seen this practice before were Newfoundland, Cape Breton Island, Prince Edward Island and Cuba so I’ve come to the conclusion that this must be something that islanders everywhere do.  When this happens to me in big cities like Toronto or New York, I automatically think I have something on my face.  In Barbados, this friendly gesture was genuine and it made me kind of feel like I was home.  There were no catcalls on this day.  My guess is the ones who usually partake in such activities probably sleep until the late afternoon and play video games in their pajamas until the early evening.  Perhaps this is why they’re having a hard time getting dates and have to resort to yelling obscenities at women in the street.

As weird as it sounds, one of the strangest things I noticed while walking through town that day was the sound of Christmas music coming from passing cars and the sight of Christmas decorations hanging on homes and businesses.  It was a couple of weeks before Christmas but it was still strange to hear and see those things when it was so hot outside and I was surrounded by tropical beaches and palm trees.  It’s hard not to associate Christmas with snow and sub-zero temperatures.

There are many great, world-class restaurants in Barbados but some of these great restaurants are hard to find because they are located in homes.  As I was walking down the street that day, I watched a man exit his house, walk over to what looked like a shed of some sort and literally pull down the side of it to reveal a bar and kitchen and presto…a ready-made restaurant!  He proceeded to display a full menu and place some chairs and tables and within minutes, he was ready for business.

For a Tuesday morning, there were a lot of people around.  Young families were heading to the beach, students waited at bus stops, businessmen in suits passed on bicycles, seniors sat on stoops gossiping with their neighbors.  One man on a bike was driving on the other side of the road but as he got closer to me, he swerved to my side and slowed down.  I became frightened for a split second until he passed by me mumbling a string of gibberish that made me realize he was no threat.  Hardly anyone was talking on cell phones or texting as they went about their daily activities.  People were talking to one another and walking with their heads up to greet passerby.  This is one of the things I like about many of the places I travel to; people still communicate with one another…in person.

I reached the little beach near the fish market and noticed that it was quite little that day.  I had overlooked the fact that tides do tend to come in and out and evidently the tide was high at that moment and the water was a bit rough.  I walked over to a manchineel tree and set up camp in its shade.  There were a few people milling about but it was quiet and relaxing.  That is, until a huge wave caught me off-guard and soaked me, my towel and my book.  I must have looked quite the site as I made my way down the beach in muddy, drenched clothes and carrying a dripping towel and tattered book.  I walked further down the beach and found a nice spot far from the surf, stripped down to my swimsuit and hung my clothing on some rocks to dry.  Ever hear the saying “never turn your back on the sea?”  I’ve been sneak-attacked by many large waves in my day and I still haven’t learned.

The fish market near the beach

The tree I was resting under when the I was sneak-attacked by a wave

As I sat in the sand, trying to dry out my book, I noticed some comfortable-looking beach chairs a little ways down the beach.  Upon closer inspection, I noticed that most of them were empty.  It occurred to me that these were probably beach chairs reserved for paying guests of the fancy resort that was right behind them, not that that ever stopped me from claiming a beach chair before.  I walked toward the chairs, trying not to be too suspicious as I tried to sneak a peak at people’s wrists to see if they had colorful bracelets on (an indication that the resort kept a watchful eye on who uses the beach chairs by means of making guests wear silly-looking paper bracelets like the ones you would wear at a neighborhood carnival).  I didn’t see any so I just plopped myself down under an umbrella on the most comfortable-looking beach chair I could find.  No one noticed a thing.  In fact, I was so good at tricking everyone into thinking I was a paying guest, a drink server from the resort bar, walked right up to me and asked if I would like a complimentary cocktail…”No thanks.  I’m not thirsty”.  I do have some morals.  Taking a seat in an unoccupied beach chair belonging to a resort is one thing…accepting a free drink when I’m not a paying guest is another!  I must say though, that beach chair was so comfortable I stayed there for a couple of hours, reading my book and listening to all the beach sounds around me.  The waves crashing ashore just a few feet away, children splashing and playing in the surf, some teenagers playing a very competitive game of volleyball, a live Calypso band entertaining wedding guests down the beach.  And, oh yes, we can’t forget those pesky beach vendors. 

I caught a glimpse of a vendor heading in my direction and immediately played dead.  I hoped he would keep walking if my eyes were closed and I wasn’t moving.  But beach vendors, the energetic, entrepreneurial buggers that they are, make it a habit to approach everyone on a beach, sometimes a dozen times each in only a few hours.  I knew there was no escape when I heard the sound of feet shuffling in the sand.  “Hi miss, can I interest you in some beautiful handmade jewelry?” I gave my usual speal about not bringing money to the beach and apologized and laid my head back down and closed my eyes hoping he would just go away.  “Oh but miss, these necklaces are perfect for you.  It doesn’t cost money just to look.” “nah, I’m really not interested.” He was a persistent little bugger, I’ll give him that.  He turned around suspiciously as if checking to make sure no one was following him and said in an almost whisper  “Ok, but maybe you like to smoke di Ganja?” he asked while winking and giving me an evil smile.  “nah, I don’t smoke Ganja.”  He just wouldn’t leave me alone.  I thought maybe he was just looking for someone to share a joint with him but nope, his next move clearly indicated that he wasn't really a jewelry salesman but a salesman of another sort.  “But miss, this ganja is the best around and I’ll give you a very good deal” and with that, he opened a secret compartment in his briefcase, underneath the rows of jewelry, to show me enough weed to put both him and I in jail for a long time.  I felt a little uneasy seeing what I did in that briefcase.  Did this “salesman” now have me marked for knowing too much?  After all, I suspect not very many people really know what is at the bottom of some of those briefcases but now I knew and that left me at kind of a disadvantage.  I played it safe and just discreetly said “nah, not today my friend”.  And with that, he shook my hand and said “you know where to find me if you change your mind”.  Thanks but no thanks.  I had no plans in spending the rest of my days in a Bajan prison.

As I lay there soaking in that hot sun and listening to all those sounds, parts of nearby conversations started to fill my ears.  Once I starting hearing juicy tidbits of gossip, it was hard to stop listening.  Two women were discussing local politics and their dissatisfaction about the current government in Barbados and how much corruption they suspected was going on.  They rambled on about cover-ups, drugs, high unemployment and the like.  The types of things you don’t read about in guidebooks.  Sometimes, even paradise has a dark side. Things sure do get interesting when you avoid all-inclusive vacations.  You really get to learn a lot about a place.  Sometimes you learn about things you don’t want to know and see things you don’t want to see.

That evening at Angler, I was reading in the peace and quiet of my patio when the silence was shattered by my phone ringing.  I looked at the caller ID and didn’t recognize the number.  After hesitating about whether to answer it or not, I decided I better in case it was an emergency.  A young (and possibly drunk and/or high) man started to ramble about how I called his number and hung up and he was looking for his friend who got hit by a bus earlier that day and blah blah blah….”um no I didn’t call your number, you must be mistaken”.  “yes you called and said he was meeting me at the hockey game” and than it dawned on me.  He had me going for a minute and I thought it was someone calling locally, in Barbados, thinking I had dialed their number.  Than he said “hockey” and I knew it had to be someone calling from home.  “Where are calling from?” I asked.  “Westmount.” I was right.  I told him I was in the southern Caribbean.  He didn’t believe me so I let him ramble on with his prank call.  He thought he had me going but the joke was on him.  I had unlimited international calling installed on my phone before I left.  I’m sure he ended up with quite a large bill.  Lesson learned?  Don’t prank-call people when they are on vacation!

The Natural Side of Barbados - A Trip Underground, Running from Killer Coconuts and Tripped by a Turtle

Before I left home, I booked a Natural Wonders Sightseeing Tour through Expedia. It included a tour of some caves and visits to a tropical garden and a wildlife reserve. Not only do I like to see the scenery and experience the culture of the places I travel to, I also like to explore the natural wonders and see the wildlife.

I awoke very early, met Chandra at the restaurant for another delicious and filling breakfast, watched the dogs and monkeys have their morning turf war and waited by the gate for a bus from Glory Tours to pick me up.

Quammie was quiet at first, not saying very much like most tour operators do when you first board their bus. However, once all passengers were onboard and seated comfortably, Quammie was all talk! Like every guide I met on my trip, he knew everything about the island, including the things you don’t read in guidebooks.

We drove through many of the scenic areas I’d seen on the previous tour but I was glad to be seeing them again, especially Bathsheba. It wasn’t as crowded on this day because it was a Monday and I was able to get some better pictures without anyone getting in the way.

After a short but refreshing stop at Bathsheba, we drove for a little while until we arrived at Harrison Caves. These caves, which are naturally formed by water erosion in the limestone rock and are considered to be the top attraction in Barbados, were the number one thing I wanted to see on my trip (besides the Animal Flower Cave in St. Lucy that I, unfortunately, didn’t get to see) and I was looking forward to exploring the caves…except the “exploring” didn’t happen in the way I thought it would.

Bathsheba, Barbados

After a brief introduction, a video and a walk around some exhibits, we met our guide and were taken underground on a tram. “Wait a second, a tram?” was what I was thinking but didn’t say out loud. I thought we were going to enter the caves on foot and walk at our own pace with the guide leading. This is the way I have always done guided tours in caves. To me, a tram tour seemed impersonal and boring and too orchestrated but I boarded anyway. After all, the tour was already paid for.

The first thing I noticed that was wrong with this tram was 3 or 4 people were seated in each seat which meant the people sitting in the middle seats would have a hard time seeing and wouldn’t be getting very many good pictures. I ended up in a middle seat and I was not happy about that! The second thing I noticed about the tram was it traveled too fast for anyone to actually get a good look at anything and when it stopped for us to get pictures, it stopped once and only the people in front, who were stopped right in front of the picture-worthy sight, had the advantage.

Harrison Caves, Barbados

 

We did stop a few times to get out and walk around in some of the bigger caverns but the stops weren’t very long. The caves were spectacular with some very large caverns and underground lakes (one of those lakes looked so inviting…the crystal clear, calm waters would have made for a nice swim but that was not included in the tour). Overall, I did enjoy seeing the caves and don’t regret taking the tour. However, the next time I am in Barbados, I will be doing an independent tour. I didn’t know independent tours were available but we passed some people who were walking around in the caves exploring on their own and I confirmed that they were, in fact, allowed to do that and that option is available.

Harrison Caves, Barbados

After a too-long jaunt around the souvenir store (I always hate that part of any guided tour), we boarded the bus and headed onto our next stop, the Flower Forest. Located on the grounds of a former plantation, the Flower Forest is 53 acres of beautiful flower gardens and tropical trees. On this tour, we were allowed to wander about freely and I started with a leisurely stroll through a forest mostly consisting of enormous palm trees. The others in my group went in one direction and I walked in another, solo through the maze of paths and enjoyed the serene sounds of leaves blowing softly in the wind and birds chirping until suddenly, that peacefulness was shattered by a loud, crashing thud followed by shouting. I thought I was alone in that area but on the other side of the trees to the right of me, a couple from my tour was enjoying a leisurely stroll, just like I was, when a coconut came crashing to the ground about a foot away from the man’s head. Because falling coconuts are a fear of mine when traveling in the Caribbean, I became very frightened by this experience and those peaceful looking trees suddenly didn’t look so peaceful. I half walked, half-ran through that maze of trails trying to find my way back to the entrance before another one of those lethal coconuts came crashing down.

Flower Forest, Barbados

Back at the meeting place, Quammie mentioned the incident to the staff and they seemed to take it quite seriously. Maintenance men were sent out right away to make sure there were no more ready-to-fall coconuts along the trail (I’m not sure how one knows if a coconut is ready to fall or not) and the victim of the near-miss brought the crushed coconut back to home-base for all to see. It was quite shocking to see the size of it and the damage it sustained in the fall. I can only imagine the damage it would have done to someone’s head. Rum punch was served to soothe our rattled nerves while we sat around listening to that poor man talk about his near-death experience before we drove to a small restaurant where we had yet another delicious lunch and headed to the wildlife reserve.

Before we got off the bus to wander around the wildlife reserve, Quammie asked us to let him know if we didn’t see the famous green monkeys by a certain time. He said it was necessary that everyone see them before we leave. A half-hour into our exploring, it was evident that we wouldn’t need to have someone coax the monkeys out for us because they were already out in full force.

At one point when I was walking, I tripped on something and nearly fell flat on my face. I got up and realized I had tripped on a poor little turtle who had been trying to cross the trail. I don’t think I hurt him but I gave him quite a scare because his head was in his shell. Curious to see the little guy, head and all, I waited a few moments for him to relax and come out and, very slowly, his head poked through his shell. He looked up at me and I swear if he could talk he would have said “listen lady, watch where your going next time!” I gave a friendly little tap on his shell and let him continue his slow but sure attempt at crossing the trail. A little while later, I came upon another one of those turtles…parked right next to a hare! Not a word of a lie, I even have the picture to prove it!

The tortoise and the hare

For the next hour or so, I wandered around the trails, catching glimpses of various creatures. Deer, snakes and, of course, those little green monkeys. By the time I got to the end of the trail, the monkeys were already gathered and waiting for their afternoon meal. They were swinging from branch to branch and giving passerby high fives. I accidently got a little to close to one as I rounded a bend and he gave me a hiss that I presumed meant “back off”.

The mischievous little green monkeys at the wildlife reserve in Barbados

 

Our last stop was Earthworks Pottery. Visiting pottery shops is not usually my thing but this pottery shop was different. Not only were we provided with a tour of the shop and the area where the pottery is made, we were given the opportunity to watch some pottery being made. I watched as a man carefully molded a beautiful bowl into shape and watched as others carefully painted the designs onto finished items before they were placed on the shelf to be bought. I did some Christmas shopping while I was there. After all, how could I not buy something that was made right in front of me? I stocked up on keychains, coffee mugs and ashtrays and other little pottery trinkets that could be given as gifts.

A short time later, I was dropped off at Angler. It was almost dark by that time so I stuck around my room for the evening and thought out a rough plan for the next few days. All I knew for sure was the next day would be spent at the beach and my last day was reserved for a hike to Holtown. The two days in between were still up in the air.

A Introduction to Barbados, Falling in Love with Bathsheba, a Meal Fit for a Queen and a Caribbean Sunset

Barbados is a very Christian country with many people still attending church every week and treating Sunday like a holy day spent with family but I was still able to find a tour provider that gave tours on Sundays. The tour I chose was one that took me to every parish (in Barbados, areas are separated into Parishes rather than Counties) and every coast on the island with stops at a number of scenic areas. It seems that a lot of tour guides on the island are not familiar with Angler Apartments because it is off-the-beaten track and away from the touristy resorts. Although the person who answered the phone when I booked assured me that the driver would find it, I was getting nervous that they forgot about me as I waited at the gate well past my scheduled pick-up time. Sure enough, the driver was lost and did call to get more directions. A few minutes later, the driver, Kenmore, and a bus load of other travelers pulled up.

We turned onto the main stretch and headed towards Holtown. Along the way, we passed Sandy Lane, one of the leading hotels of the world and home to Rihanna’s $22M condo and the site of Tiger Wood’s wedding. Not that I care but I did take note when the tour guide reminded everyone that all beaches in Barbados are public and anyone can access this exclusive beach with a little creativity, a knowledge of tides and a backup plan to get off the beach another way if the tide does come up and you cannot access the way you came in.

We continued along that stretch and stopped at a little coastal village where we got out to stretch our legs and enjoy some rum punch by the sea. I usually don’t drink a lot of booze when I am traveling but Bajans really love their rum punch and love to share it with tourists. It’s very hard to turn down free rum punch when a friendly Bajan is twisting your arm and practically begging you to share in such a revered tradition and symbol of friendship.

We drove along that same road for a while, eventually moving into more rural areas of the island and stopped on the north-east coast at a place called Little Bay. The scenery of Little Bay reminded me a little of home because it was so rugged and natural. I walked to the top of a hill to get a good view from the top of a cliff out into the bay where there were blowholes, which are basically sea caves that open to the surface and the pressure from the pounding sea causes water to push out of the top much like that of a whale’s blowhole.

The Blowholes at Little Bay, Barbados

We continued on through a little village. For a while, the road was very windy and at times, it felt like the bus would tip over and roll over the side into the ocean. I didn’t see any guardrails, ditches or even a shoulder on this road for that matter so that is exactly where we would have ended up had the bus left the road and apparently, buses in Barbados do this quite frequently and yet, no safety measures are put in place to prevent it from happening again…and again.

I fell in love with the Bathsheba area of the island before we even got off the bus. The area is much like what Ingonish is to Cape Breton – a place where families go on weekends to get away from the city and enjoy the scenery and relaxing atmosphere. It being Sunday and Barbadians being very Christian, the area was crowded with people of all ages dressed in their Sunday best, eating ice cream, combing the beach for lost treasures and having picnics on the grass. And when I say they were dressed in their Sunday best, I mean like you see in those old movies where the men are dressed in suits and top hats and the women are dressed in beautiful, long flowing dresses and large fedoras.

Bathsheba, Barbados

Vendors set up shop just above the beach. One, in particular, had some colorful towels hung on a line. This might sound like something the average person wouldn’t even take the time to notice, but the way those colorful towels blew in the breeze with the beach and ocean behind them was almost breathtaking. The picture I took doesn’t do the real thing any justice but hopefully you can try to envision it the way I saw it that day. I stood above the beach watching the children play in the surf and noticed they were doing something very strange. They were playing in an area that just looked like regular, ankle-deep surf when one of them dove into the sand and disappeared! I found out later that there are deep pools, also known as tidal pools, close to shore. If I ever go back to Barbados, I think I’ll stay somewhere in the Bathsheba area and explore that part of the island some more. There seemed to be more to do and it wasn’t as crowded as other areas of the island. As I was about to board the bus to leave the area, I noticed a man sitting on a bench with one of those little, mischievous green monkeys. Upon closer inspection, I noticed the monkey was sporting clothing and jewelry that matched the attire of his master. Some people take their relationships with their pets to a new level!

Some colorful towels blowing in the breeze at Bathsheba, Barbados

We kept driving along the coast and passed through an area with houses with cliché million-dollar views like the ones you see on those TV shows that spotlight the homes of the rich of famous in tropical places around the world. We drove by a beautiful beach where dozens of surfers were braving some rough seas to catch some rather large waves.

As we continued along, I spotted a number of people at a baseball field (unlike the ones at home that are going to waste because no one goes outdoors anymore) but noticed as we got closer that they were playing cricket and not baseball. Did I mention Barbados is very British? I don’t watch soap operas nor do I have any interest in them whatsoever but everyone else on the bus was excited to discover that a little, colorful shack we drove by was featured in a scene from a poplar soap (I can’t remember which one – perhaps the Bold and the Beautiful?) where two of the main characters were married and there was something about a helicopter rescue or some weird thing. I noticed some peculiar-looking fruit in many of the trees and learned that they were breadfruit trees and that anyone lucky enough to have one of these trees on their property would never go hungry because the fruit is very versatile and can be eaten in many different ways. Along the way to our next stop, I learned a few more things from the ever-knowledgeable Kenmore. I learned that Barbados is the only Caribbean island made entirely of coral with no volcanic rock like the other islands. I learned about the versatile, hurricane-proof Chattel Houses that could be taken down, moved to another location and set up again in the same day. I also learned that Barbados has a very high unemployment rate and many of the young people leave for the United States, Canada and other Caribbean islands to find work and there are more Bajan-born people living outside of Barbados than there are on the island. Sounds familiar.

The little building that was supposedly used in a scene from a famous soap opera

When I think of lunch on a guided tour, I think of tea, sandwiches and sweets, not a four-course meal fit for a Queen. That’s what awaited us at the Sunbury Plantation House. After a tour of the plantation with some background history, we sat down to a delicious meal that included a variety of drinks, appetizers and several choices of main courses and desserts. One of the items served was macaroni pie and I learned that, besides coucou and flying fish, Macaroni Pie was considered to be one of the island’s national dishes. This may sound strange to you because, lets face it, macaroni pie doesn’t sound all that special but I swear to you that the macaroni pie in Barbados is like no other macaroni pie you have ever tasted.

We continued on and passed through another scenic area except this time, we were more inland and the area was characterized by valleys and fields with the ocean in the distance. The bus rolled to a stop on top of a hill with a spectacular view. Some vendors were set up there and I did a little bit of shopping. I don’t really shop for myself when I travel. I shop for the people at home who always ask “can you bring me back a keychain” and for my dad who collects baseball caps and has caps from about 30 different countries that my sisters and I have traveled to. Me? I might buy a keychain but usually just keep a handful of local currency as a souvenir. Trinkets and T-shirts with cheesy local sayings on them don’t do much for me. I thought the prices for the keychains seemed reasonable and thought it strange (and kind of rude) when a fellow traveler said I should haggle the price even lower. I know many travelers like to haggle and there are numerous articles written on the topic of “how to become an expert haggler” but I rarely haggle (if the price is absolutely outrageous for what I am being sold, I will occasionally negotiate a fairer price). The way I see it is these people are trying to make a living at a job that is hard enough and when the prices are already so low, I don’t think it’s fair to try and bring them lower. This is especially true of handmade items. I will never haggle an item that someone made with their own hands. A lot of time and love go into those items and they are usually worth the price tag that is on them.

Purses for sale

By 3:30PM, I was back at Angler apartments. There was still enough daylight left for me to get to the beach and catch a beautiful sunset before nightfall. I was warned not to go near the beaches at night but I couldn’t spend a week in Barbados and not experience a sunset at the beach. I walked in the direction of Holtown looking for a public beach access where there were other tourists so I wouldn’t be alone. I found the perfect spot near the fish market about half a kilometer down the road. There was a little boardwalk with some stairs that led to a section of beach and I found a nice spot in the sand under a Manchineel tree (while being careful not to touch any part of the tree because its toxic) where I could see the whole bay complete with sailboats and the lowering sun. There was a man fishing from some rocks a few meters away and he looked so peaceful and content as he sat smoking his cigarette and waiting for a fish to hook his line. A police officer approached me and stopped and stared and smiled and kept going. I don’t know what it was about him but something told me he wasn’t a real policeman or perhaps he had had a little too much rum punch at one of the beachside bars on his rounds. A man selling aloe plant leaves approached and gave a desperate speech about how my sunburn and bug bites could use some healing aloe. He tried to send his message home by actually dabbing some of the aloe on a bug bite on my leg. Gotta love a salesman with a personal touch! I stuck with my usual story and explained to him that I don’t bring money to the beach.

A sailboat in Payne's Bay at sunset

The sun went down and yes, it was beautiful. I love sunsets no matter where I am in the world but sunsets in the Caribbean are magical. I left the beach while there was still a bit of twilight left and while walking along the road back to Angler, I learned another Bajan national pastime; catcalling. Not that catcalling is unique to Barbados but these catcalls had a little added touch. Following the usual marriage proposals hollered from moving cars “hey sexy, I love you, will you marry me” were unmistakable kissing sounds. I swear, the same thing was hollered out of every second car that passed me. Yuck. I just rolled my eyes all the way back. Sometimes it’s best to keep quiet when trekking on someone else’s turf.

The warm air of the early evening and the sound of the cicadas and distant Caribbean music had me not wanting to call it a night just yet. I raided the mini bar in the fridge and sat on my step with a Banks beer and relaxed to those sounds that only grace my ears once a year when I travel south for a week.

Survived my First Full Day in Barbados (Barely) - A Gas Leak Scare, a Pounding by the Raging Surf, A Dangerous Trek to the Store and a Close Call with the Sun

Before I left home, I checked the long range forecast for Barbados and was disappointed to see that the weather was calling for thunderstorms and rain all week. I got out of bed and opened the curtains expecting to see storm clouds but was greeted with clear, blue skies.

Another thing I noticed upon awakening that morning? My hair. Yes that’s right. I have very healthy, longish hair but the hard water at home makes it look dry and brittle and unmanageable. The only time I can wear second-day hair at home is if I have no plans to go anywhere. Otherwise, it has to be washed everyday to make it look somewhat presentable. On this morning, my hair was soft, wavy and looked like it had just been washed and styled despite the long sleep I had. I was told that the water in Barbados was very safe to drink right from the tap because of the limestone that was abundant on the island that acts as a filter to clean the drinking water. Apparently, this makes the water good for washing hair too! I was pleased at not having to shower again since I was heading to the beach anyway and preferred to shower after taking a dip in the ocean. I was also pleased to know that I would not be having a repeat of the water-borne illness I acquired when I was in Mexico.

I walked outside into the hot, morning sun to take my seat at a table at the Garden Bar and Restaurant where Chandra was already preparing breakfast. As I sat there waiting and catching up on world news flashing across the TV screen that hung over the bar, the dogs, who had been quietly resting, suddenly became very excited and ran in the direction of the trees. It didn’t take long to figure out what got them going – the mischievous little green monkeys were closing in on the grounds. I spotted several of them swinging from tree to tree and inching closer and closer in preparation for their ambush. I watched this comical display for a few minutes when I noticed one of the monkeys picked a round fruit from a tree and held it above his head as if threatening to throw it at poor Jake who backed up, whimpering with his tail between his legs! This is something some transpires almost every morning at Angler and it usually ends with the monkeys successfully winning over the territory. These little monkeys look cute and cuddly but trust me, they are pure evil!

Little green monkey

After yet another delicious breakfast consisting of fresh fruit, toast and scrambled eggs mixed with various spices, I returned to my room and was just grabbing my beachwear and towel when there was a knock at my door. When I opened the door, a gentleman who I hadn’t seen before and claiming to be from maintenance quietly asked “Miss, do you smell gas” except I didn’t understand what he said the first time because he had a heavy Bajan accent. He repeated his question again a little louder and slower “Do. You. Smell. Gas?” Confused at his question, I turned around in every direction, smelling the air. “Um no, I don’t think so. Should I be smelling gas?” I was alarmed by his response “oh you didn’t know. There is a gas leak in this room” is what I thought I heard but, thankfully heard wrong. He just wanted to check my stove to make sure it wasn’t leaking as was protocol when a new guest arrived. Way to play on my fears of gas-operated appliances. For the rest of the day, whenever I was in the room, I frequently smelled the air to make sure there was no gas smell and carefully listened for any hissing sounds that could indicate some kind of leak.

After the little gas leak scare, I grabbed my beach towel and headed towards the entrance to my very own section of private beach. Of course, it wasn’t really private because there are no private beaches in Barbados. Anyone can access any beach at any time whether you are a tourist or a local.

The beach was only a 2-minute walk away. I was provided with a key to unlock the gate that led to my “private” section of beach. I wasn’t sure how it could be considered private when anyone could walk onto the beach from any of the public accesses along the road. I unlocked the gate, walked down the long corridor and down some stairs to the beach and realized how this is possible. While anyone could walk right onto the beach, there are some obstacles to doing so, especially if the tide is high. On this day, the tide was high but I attempted to get access the other parts of the beach in both directions and failed miserably. I could only get so far in each direction before the pounding surf, sharp coral, slippery rocks and deepening water made it too difficult. On that afternoon, I had that entire section of beach to myself and with the gate locked behind me, no one could get to it that way either. After I spent a good hour being battered by pounding surf and nearly loosing my shoes to a giant wave, I decided to leave the beach-exploring for another time and surrendered to a quiet spot on my little beach, laid out my towel and enjoyed the warm, breeze coming off the sea. I made sure not to lie under a coconut tree. I made that mistake in Cuba and was near killed when one fell from a tree and smashed only a mere few feet from me. I once read that the thing that kills the most tourists in the Caribbean is falling coconuts. I believe it. Those things are lethal!

My own little stretch of Beach at Payne's Bay, Barbados

That little piece of beach was just like those beaches on deserted islands you see in movies where airplane-crash and shipwreck survivors end up. There was a town behind me and many people wandering around on the other section of the beach but all I could hear was the sounds of the waves crashing onshore and all I could see was that blue-green water and some seabirds milling about.

A few hours later, when the sea wasn’t as choppy, I was able to safely climb over some rocks to another section of beach. I was able to see the rest of the area and hear the sounds of a typical day in paradise. The sounds of a steel band and loud cheers at what must have been a beach wedding and the smell from a barbecue at one of the beach homes that lined the shore filled the air.

By mid-afternoon, I felt lightheaded and thirsty so I made my way back to the main street, picked a direction at random and set out to find a convenience store that sold bottled water. Only a few minutes into my trek, an Esso Station appeared in the distance. This little walk was my first real taste of what it is like to be a pedestrian in Barbados and it’s quite scary. Not only are there no sidewalks and cars drive along at very high speeds, I literally had to grab onto tree branches that were hanging down to keep myself from falling into traffic! Cars whizzed by only millimeters away from me, honking their horns at this crazy woman who was hanging on for dear life. When I reached the gas station, I had to cross the street to get to it and that took more than ten minutes. I made several attempts at running across but was forced back when cars came careening around the turn at full speed, honking their horns instead of stopping to let me cross and I was on a crosswalk!

I finally made it across, grabbed a bottle of water…and remembered I didn’t bring my money. I’ve made it a habit to never bring money to the beach so I have an excuse when the vendors selling giant seashells (that they claim are the result of an early-morning dive offshore) approach me with their not-very-convincing speeches about how I should buy one since they went through so much trouble to get it for me.

Once again, I repeated the dangerous feat of crossing that street and made my way back to Angler. Dehydrated and lightheaded, I downed the bottle of water in the fridge, turned on the air conditioner, collapsed on the bed and fell asleep. I know the symptoms of heat stroke. I had it in Mexico and it was apparent that a bout of that dreaded affliction was coming on. I came down with these symptoms a few times on trips down south and I knew that hydration, sleep and air conditioning were my best friends when trying to ward it off in time. Fortunately, I awoke a few hours later with no symptoms of it…caught in time so the rest of my vacation wouldn’t be spent in bed or in a hospital. For those of you who are not familiar with the symptoms of heat stroke, I assure you, you will know if you ever come down with it. First, you will get light-headed, than you will stop sweating no matter how hot it is, next you will begin to feel like you are going to fall over, your head will feel like it is going to explode and it will feel like your body is going to spontaneously combust…and finally, you will pass out. The sickest I have ever felt was when I had heat stroke in Mexico and I cannot compare the feeling to any other sickness I’ve ever had. It’s just horrible and deadly if not treated. Just remember, if you ever come down with any kind of heat sickness in Mexico, do not believe the bartender when he or she tells you the best thing for it is tequila shooters no matter how convincing they are. It’s best to leave these kinds of emergencies in the hands of the hotel medic.

Just to be on the safe side, I decided to stay indoors for the rest of the day…at least until after sundown. When I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I walked by, I noticed I had a sunburn. So much for repeatedly slathering on the SPF 75. The sun in Barbados is strong. I guess being so close to the equator has a lot to do with it. I made a mental note to bring a hat and cover-up with me to the beach for the rest of the trip. I’m fair-skinned and like to get a bit of a tan from time to time but not at the expense of my health. From a gas leak scare to getting pounded by the raging surf to nearly being run over by cars and almost coming down with a bout of heat stroke, I managed to survive my first full day in Barbados.

My Arrival at Angler Apartments - The Discovery that my Hostel was not a Hostel at all, my First Taste of Bajan Cuisine and a Warning about a Rapidly-Spreading Mosquito-borne Illness

As Sandra and I drove along bustling city streets and onto a secondary highway that led to a more remote area, I felt kind of lost as I had no idea what direction we were headed or how long it would take to get there. I enjoyed the ride nonetheless and took in everything along the way. It must seem strange to shuttle and cab drivers when they pick up foreigners who are in a country for the first time. I’m sure I seemed like a fish out of water, staring wide-eyed out the window, never blinking and asking tons of questions about things that are everyday-ordinary to locals. “So what is that building”, “what is the population of Barbados”, “are there earthquakes here like there are in other nearby Caribbean islands”, “when was the last big hurricane”, “why are there no sidewalks or yellow lines on the roads”, “do people put Christmas lights on the outside of their houses here”, “what kind of fruit is that in the trees” and other questions that must have sounded so silly to my driver who lived in Barbados her whole life.

I had no idea what the area of Derricks and Payne’s Bay looked like. I prefer there to be an element of surprise when I travel to new destinations. I do a lot of research before I travel to a new place but I try to avoid looking at pictures or learning too much about it before I arrive. Why would I want to know everything there is to know about a place before I even get there? If I did that, there really would be no point in going there at all! So when we turned onto a side street in a residential area along the coast, I had no idea we were even in the town of Derricks let alone about to pull up to my home-away-from-home for the week.

A busy street in Barbados

The owner of Angler Apartments, Chandra, was waiting for me at the gates when I arrived along with four of her devoted canine friends. There were five dogs, Jake, Amy, Lennie, Cocoa and Frisky (who was not there at that time due to illness) living with Chandra at the apartments but, throughout the week, it was always Jake and Amy who rested at my feet during meals and cheerfully greeted me at the gate whenever I came back from my daily excursions. I always had dogs growing up and learned that they rarely bark for no reason and that, often times, barking meant someone was around. So if I heard barking at night, my guard went up to the possibility that someone could be prowling outside my room. Thankfully, they were usually barking at the mischievous monkeys in the trees or people walking down the street.

Angler Apartments is settled in the middle of a residential neighborhood. There are no high-rise luxury resorts in sight, just family homes with cars parked in the driveways, people barbecuing and sipping beer on patios and music coming from open windows. I was quite pleased with what I saw as I walked around the grounds and was led to my room. The grounds are well-kept with lots of trees and plants and, most importantly, it’s quiet. When I was searching for an affordable place to stay that wasn’t an all-inclusive resort (I despise all-inclusive resorts), I came across Angler Apartments. I liked the rates and the reviews so I booked a room for the week. It’s listed on a hostel site but it’s most definitely not a hostel. Angler Apartments is a large complex with a number of private guest rooms. I wanted to stay somewhere that would allow me to indulge in my surroundings without being told by resort employees that it is “too dangerous” to leave the resort grounds. I wanted to stay somewhere where I would be away from excess drinking and partying and disgusting buffet meals that only require adding water to them before they sit at the buffet table all day. I wanted to stay somewhere where I could chill out with local people and not spend a week in a foreign country hanging out with other Canadians. Angler met all of those requirements. For one, I was the only guest staying at the entire complex at that time, which meant I didn’t have to worry about being jumped or harassed by drunken tourists or worry about opening my door to find a half naked man passed out right in front of it, such was my misfortune when I stayed at a resort in Varadero, Cuba. “Um can you send security, there is a half-naked senor passed out in front of my door”. The only response was “si senorita, uno minuto” but I suspect he had no idea what I said because I had to jump over that man when I left and he was still there when I returned at lunch. Never. Again.
*in case you are wondering, yes I did check to see if he was still breathing and he was fine…just too many Mojitos.

The neighborhood where I stayed

Darkness set in not long after I arrived at Angler. Chandra led me to a room that was all ready for me and helped me to get settled in. The door was a little complicated and required a bit of practice to get it working properly. After dropping my luggage in the room and getting acquainted with my new surroundings, dinner was served. I was so tired and hungry that I ate almost everything that was placed in front of me. I remember that the meal consisted of some juice, coffee and fresh fruit but, for the life of me, I cannot remember exactly what the main course was! I know it was vegetarian because I mentioned that I preferred vegetarian meals when I booked. I know the taste was unfamiliar to me but I also know it was absolutely delicious!

While I was unpacking, I noticed the in-room safe was not working. After several attempts to try to get it working, I was offered another room next door with a safe that was working properly. It’s not that I don’t trust cleaning staff or other employees at hotels but it’s a fact of life that there are thieves out there and it’s better to be safe than sorry, especially when it comes to my passport. It would be a hassle to have anything stolen while traveling but it’s my passport that I guard with my life. I never carry it with me except for when I am in transit between countries. I always leave it in the in-room safe. Along with a working safe, my new room was equipped with a fridge (stocked with beer and water), a television, an air conditioner, a stove, a coffee maker and a microwave oven. I noticed the stove was a gas stove and immediately tossed the idea of cooking anything with it. I know it might sound a little strange, but I am terrified of gas operated appliances. Everyone has their fears. Gas stoves are one of my fears.

There weren’t many flies around that night and that was a good thing. Chandra told me that it was of great importance that I not step outside, day or night, without first applying a generous amount of bug spray to my entire body. I had read about the Chikungunya (pronounced chicken-gun-ya) virus, a mosquito-borne illness, much like dengue, sweeping the island but didn’t pay much attention to it since the reports I read made it seem like it was only mildly dangerous to young children and the elderly. According to Chandra, the outbreak was being downplayed by the local government (perhaps to prevent tourists from overlooking Barbados as a travel destination?) and it was much more serious than what was being reported. Thousands of people had come down with the disease that included symptoms such as fever, headache and severe joint pain that could last months or even years. I dug out my bug spray – one large aerosol can of Deep Woods and a smaller spray bottle of Off – and read the instructions to see which one was the most potent and most likely to keep away the disease-inflicted females. The can of Deep Woods seemed like the best choice for potency. I went into the bathroom and started spraying the stuff all over myself and quickly realized I overlooked one very important instruction on the back of the bottle: WARNING: DO NOT SPRAY IN ENCLOSED SPACES. I swear that stuff near killed me it was that potent. I thought my lungs were going to collapse. Anything that strong was bound to keep away any mosquitoes…and damage a person’s lungs and internal organs after some extended use.

Once settled into my new room, I unpacked, showered all the airplane grime off my body and climbed into bed…and noticed some strange sounds coming from the ceiling fan. Since I was a child, I’ve always had this fear of ceiling fans falling and landing on me with the blades chopping me into a million pieces while I’m sleeping. Weird I know. I felt uneasy by the unsteady-sounding clicks and clangs coming from this one so I forced myself back out of bed to turn off the offending fan. I slipped back into bed and fell into a deep sleep to the soothing sound of thousands of Cicadas outside my window and didn’t wake up until the neighbor’s roosters decided it was time for the whole neighborhood to get up already!

The True Meaning of Pura Vida

I opened my inbox one day to find an email with a peculiar subject line. "Congratulations, you have won a trip to Anamaya Yoga Retreat in sunny Costa Rica". I promptly deleted it but a nagging feeling prompted me to retrieve that email and read it again to be sure it was, in fact, just another scam. Four months after I reread that email, I boarded a plane for San Jose, Costa Rica. A long drive through the countryside that led to a ferry that took me across the gulf of Nicoya and onto the small Pacific Coast village of Montezuma was the beginning of an unforgettable journey…one that taught me an important lesson in life and in living it to the fullest.

There wasn’t much going on at Anamaya Yoga Retreat on my 4th day in Montezuma, Costa Rica. I developed a routine of waking early, watching the sunset, reading in the hammock, taking a dip in the infinity pool and checking emails all before breakfast was even served. On this day, I decided to break the routine and do something a little different. I didn’t want to waste the day sitting by the pool so I strolled down the hill into the village and spent the day exploring the little streets and surf shops and enjoying the beach. The village had so much energetic ambiance. Smiling, energetic people of all walks of life, embracing the day and one another. I can still feel that ambiance now if I close my eyes and bring myself back there.
It was the hottest morning in Montezuma since I’d arrived and the walk down the hill was torture. I was only half way down the hill when a young man on a motorbike stopped. “Senorita, I take you to bottom of the hill if you like.” He was wearing a nice shirt and khaki shorts which gave him an air of coolness and confidence - like he often picked up strange women who were about to pass out while walking down that hill. I usually don’t take rides from strangers but I didn’t think I was going to make it any further without collapsing. I took him up on his offer and a few minutes later he dropped me off at the beach. With a wave and a friendly “Buenos dias”, he sped off.

I walked a few feet to the beach and plopped myself down in the sand in a shaded area and relaxed for a bit. A storm had passed near Montezuma the previous night and the water was extremely rough. I tried to go for a swim but the waves were too powerful and the undertow too dangerous. The smell of Cerviche and Empanadas in the restaurant a few meters away filled the air. The sounds of palm trees rustling in the gentle breeze and locals and tourists going about their daily business lulled me. A dog chased a stick nearby while some children egged him on. A stray cat sat near a food cart, waiting for a hand-out. The rhythmic sound of the waves coming ashore, like a lullaby, gently rocked me to sleep.

Shouting zapped me out of my trance to see people on the beach pointing to something in the water; some brave, fool-hardy surfers were attempting to surf dangerously rough waters close to some jagged rocks. It looked like the scene might end in tragedy but, fortunately, the surfers made it safely to shore. Welcome to Costa Rica – home of adventure seekers, lovers of life and daredevils!

By late-morning, the heat was really getting to me and I started to feel dehydrated. I was craving a refreshing fruit smoothie but didn’t want to pay the going rate of about 7 dollars for one at a tourist trap. So off I went, up and down those little streets, in search of a reasonably-priced smoothie. At the end of a side street, I noticed an interestingly-decorated, outdoor smoothie bar. The thatched-roof and colorful plants sprouting from the walls caught my eye. It looked like just my kind of place!

A free-spirited and friendly, young man was eager to take on the challenge of making me something that was refreshing but not-too-sweet. It took a long time for him to make it as he carefully thought out each ingredient and made sure it was mixed to perfection by allowing me to taste it at intervals. After some mixing and shaking and adding of various exotic fruit, some of which I never heard of, he placed his finished masterpiece before me. For the price of 3 dollars, I received a delicious, orange-colored smoothie in a massive glass.

I stayed at the bar and took a seat. “So, are you from around here?” I asked him. “Yes, born and raised in Costa Rica, just down the road a little bit.” He obviously loved his life in Montezuma and at one point, he asked if I knew what "Pura Vida" meant. To me "Pura Vida" meant The Pure Life and it was what I had witnessed over and over again while traveling through the country. Natural, untouched, simple and pure. He went on to explain it in more depth for me. “That is how most people interpret it. You see, 'Pura Vida' can be a greeting, a state of mind, a way of life. You meet someone walking down the street, you say 'Pura Vida'. You catch the perfect wave while surfing, you say 'Pura Vida'. You have a wonderful day, instead of saying goodnight, you say 'Pura Vida'. You find a great smoothie bar while walking the streets of Montezuma, you say 'this is Pura Vida'. It can mean anything but always something good. Anytime something good happens, “Pura Vida” is the appropriate thing to say.” Made sense to me. How can you not be living the “Pura Vida” in a country that is considered to be one of the happiest in the world according to the Happy Planet Index?

It was mid-afternoon when I started walking up that steep hill to Anamaya. I made it to the top without collapsing in the ditch. There was still enough daylight left to hike to Montezuma Falls. I had gone there the day before and chickened out of jumping off the falls into the pool below but now I was determined not to leave Costa Rica without taking that plunge.
The path to the falls was steep and rocky. I stopped to take a rest mid-way down the trail and that is when I became fully aware of my surroundings. The growling of nearby howler monkeys, the buzz of millions of tropical insects, the sound of the distant waves crashing onto the beach below, the trees rustling in the gentle breeze. The rainforest sounded so alive. It was like the forest itself was living and breathing.
I made it to the waterfalls and again, paused to take in the beautiful sight before me. Beautiful, cascading water falling into a crystal clear, blue pool beneath a canopy of thick rainforest. Before I could talk myself out of it again, I took the leap into the clear, refreshing water. If there is one thing I absolutely hate, it is missed opportunity. I take every chance that comes my way because, sometimes, you only get one chance to do something. And to think, if I had not listened to that little voice in my head telling me to read that email again, I would have missed out on the time of my life and would never know what it is like to live the Pura Vida.

Absolute Paradise

I spent a full week at Anamaya in April and I can honestly say that it was the best place I have ever stayed in all of my travels. Everything was perfect, it was paradise. Anamaya is located on top of a hill above the small village of Montezuma overlooking a spectacular view of the Pacific Coast and surrounding mountains. It was one of the best views I had ever seen! The infinity pool (yes there was a beautiful infinity pool overlooking the ocean and that view) was always clean and refreshing.

I stayed in one of the more affordable rooms in the main house at Anamaya and it was amazing. Comfortable bed, full bathroom, tons of closet space and beautiful patio doors that opened to overlook the ocean...every morning, I awoke to the sun rising over the Pacific.

The service at Anamaya was probably the best service I had ever had anywhere. The staff were amazing, They interacted with guests, they were there to help with anything we needed, they were polite and friendly and you could tell they loved working at Anamaya.

Many activities such as surfing and ziplining were available and every excursion I participated in exceeded my expectations.

The main house was where everyone gathered for meals. Internet, free international calling, snacks and smoothies were available throughout the day and the outside deck area was teh perfect place to meet up with other guests to chat or to spend time reading in a hammock, or sunbathing.

I didn't participate in many of the yoga classes that were held throughout the week but based on my observations and what I heard from other guests, the instructors were very knowledgeable.

Walking around the various houses at Anamaya was an adventure in itself because I never knew what I was going to see! Monkeys, geckos, various tropical birds, iguanas and a strange (but seemingly friendly) raccoon-like creature that often visited me in the evening while I was relaxing in the hammock.

Now for the food...The Most Amazing Food Ever! At 7:00am, a large fruit bowl full of mixed fruit and various dips was placed in the kitchen before morning yoga. At 9:00am, buffet breakfast with a large variety of items served. At 2:00pm, buffet lunch with various wraps and sandwiches and many other items. At 7:00pm, large 3-course dinner served with a different (and absolutely delicious) meal every night. I have honestly never eaten as well I did that week in Montezuma, Costa Rica and the best thing about the food was it was all fresh and organic.

There is so much more I can say about Anamaya but it will take too long! To sum up my review...if you ever find yourself planning a trip to Costa Rica, make Montezuma one of your stops and stay at Anamaya...I guarantee you will not be disappointed!

A Review of my Stay at the Arenal Observatory Lodge in La Fortuna, Costa Rica

I spent 2 weeks in Costa Rica and made my way to the area of Arenal Volcano after spending a week in Montezuma on the Pacific Coast of the Country. Compared to the rocky coastline, sandy beaches and extremely hot weather of the Pacific coast, this area of the country was a refreshing change of pace! The weather was still nice but cooler and the scenery was spectacular. I had the opportunity to stay at the Arenal Observatory Lodge which was surrounded by all this natural beauty in a remote location away from crowds and other resorts. I must say that from my arrival late at night to my departure later the next day, I was pleased with every aspect of the lodge, the service and the location. I was greeted upon arrival and offered a welcome drink and, even though I arrived late, the swimming pool and Jacuzzi was still open which was great after a long day on the road. My room was spacious, clean and had everything I needed to make my stay enjoyable...including a great view of the volcano.

I spent the next morning exploring the grounds and admiring the view of the volcano and was surprised by how much wildlife, including a number of species of birds, were around. A free nature hike was offered that morning (and I'm pretty sure it is offered every morning) which gave me the opportunity to learn much more about the birds, plants and animals I was seeing all over the place. The guide was very knowledgeable and explained everything to us. After visiting the beautiful waterfalls along the trail, we hopped on a tractor to be taken back to the resort so no backtracking in the sticky early afternoon sun. Breakfast and lunch were also fabulous with much to choose from. I spent the remainder of the afternoon in the museum dedicated to the history and observations of the volcano over the years which was very, very interesting. There are a number of other hiking trails in the area and a number of tours (including ATV tours and whitewater rafting) but I didn't have a chance to do them. I would highly recommend anyone visiting this area to stay at the Arenal Observatory Lodge.

Travels With A Road Dog - A Book Review

I love finding a great adventure travel book that not only takes me somewhere new and follows someone else's adventures but also inspires me and teaches me something about the art of traveling and adjusting to new surroundings and cultures...and Travels With a Road Dog, written by R.K. did exactly that.

This book takes the reader on a four-year adventure through North America and parts of Central and South America...mostly by hitchhiking and the best part of it is the whole journey was done by a young woman with an insatiable taste for the unknown. The reason it was so inspiring for me was because of how easy it was for the writer to just walk away from everyday life and give up all the comforts of home to head out into the sometimes unforgiving unknown, aka the underground culture that exists along the highways and byways of America.

Travels with a Road Dog: Hitchhiking Along the Roads of the Americas

The writer learns many lessons and survival skills along the way and I found myself unable to put the book down at times because the next page was taking me into yet another venture into unknown territory. I don't know if I would ever embark on an adventure exactly like this one but it certainly is inspiring to read about people who are turning their backs on material things, quitting their jobs and giving up the comforts of a home to explore the big, vast world around them. Throughout this book, the writer tells of meeting people from all walks of life, getting caught up in some potentially dangerous situations, experiencing poverty and hunger, learning a new language and developing a sense of fearless adventure that allowed her to be up for anything and to go anywhere!

If you are planning a long-term adventure or would like some inspiration to encourage you to plan one, I suggest you read this book because the real eye-opener of it is the fact that a young woman was able to do it and survive to tell about it with fond reflection and longing to be back on the road again.

My Journey Through Costa Rica - Getting There was Half the Battle

I’m back now from an incredible trip in Costa Rica…Well, actually, I’ve been back from the trip for a while but I was unable to blog about this travel until recently. 

So, to start...where is Costa Rica?  Costa Rica is in Central America between the countries of Nicaragua and Panama.  When researching Costa Rica travel, the pictures and descriptions of wild beaches and rainforests intriqued me enough to look into it some more.

Being the savvy trip planner that I am, I learned as much as I could about the country and the more I read and the more I learned, I realized that Costa Rica must be a very special place because I couldn't find any bad Trip advisor reviews or any bad press.  Now having been to Costa Rica, I realize that those reviews were inaccurate....my journey through this beautiful country was more than I could ever have expected.....and yes I mean that in a very, very good way!

First of all, I need to say that there were hardly any hitches and hardly anything went wrong during this trip. I have to brag about that so all the people who thought I was putting myself in danger for traveling alone can see that I've returned from my trip in one piece.  I was sunburned, bruised (from surfing) and covered in bug bites but otherwise fine. 

The only negative experiences I had during this trip were getting to Costa Rica and getting back home but that is to be expected when dealing with airports and flights. I arrived in Halifax via the one shittle service that could get me to Halifax in time to catch my flight without having to sleep in the airport overnight. 

My issues began in Halifax and continued onward through Toronto, Houston and onto San Jose. Things got off to a bad start during check-in in Halifax when I had the unfortunate experience of dealing with a very rude ticket agent. Of course, my tongue acted quicker than my brain and well, lets just say I was convinced my luggage would end up in China instead of its intended destination. Toronto Pearson International or Hell as I like to call it was my next stop. I’ve never had a good experience at this airport and this time was no exception. 

As usual, Pearson International failed to live up to the standards one would expect from such a large, international airport and again made me feel a little embarrassed to be from Canada knowing that most people traveling from other countries to Canada have to go through that disgrace of an airport. Let’s see, where do I begin? I needed help finding my connecting flight and, as anyone who has been through this airport knows, signage is very poor to non-existent. Almost everyone I tried to get directions from couldn’t speak English and the few people who could either had no idea where to send me or sent me in the wrong direction. 

 I finally made it to my gate after running through two terminals only to discover that my gate had been changed and I was sent running again and just made it in time for boarding. Now onto George Bush Intercontinental in Houston and a long 11-hour layover in an airport almost as bad as Pearson. 

When I first booked my flight, I thought “hey, I’ve never been to Houston, TX before so maybe I can hire a taxi driver to give me the grand tour while I wait for the next leg of my journey”. This was not to be. In the past, I was able to get tours of various cities by taxi but none were willing to do so in Houston, which meant one long, boring night of people-watching and counting ceiling tiles. I couldn’t even grab a Starbucks latte because everything was closed by the time I went through immigration and baggage claim, which was around 9pm. I was hoping to at least have something to eat when I arrived but everything was closed so early which meant my long, boring night was also marred by hunger and thirst. 

On the plus side, my luggage made it that far and was not “accidentally” put on a plane to China. I’d like to say I was able to sleep during my 11 hours in Houston Airport but all I did was wander around aimlessly looking for a comfortable place to rest, which was not to be found. The most comfortable place to sleep in the whole airport was the couch behind Starbucks in Terminal A and every time someone got up from that couch, someone was right there to take their place. I didn’t have the energy to even try to be one of those lucky people who had comfortable-looking naps on that couch before catching their next flight.

I was in no mood to deal with any delays or airport mishaps the next morning when it was time to find and board my plane. But, of course, air travel would not be true air travel if it didn’t come with its issues. Once again, I found myself in a state of confusion. I was told by an airport employee that my next flight would be departing terminal A so that is where I remained for most of the night. 

When it came close to check-in time, I looked at the screens to see if my flight was on time and couldn’t find it and, of course, panicked. After asking several dozen airport employees why my flight was not listed, one finally gave me the answer “ma’am, I think you are supposed to be in terminal D and you need to take the train to get there”. With time running out to clear security and get to my gate, “I think” had to suffice. And off I went, running again to catch a train and a flight. 

I didn’t realize how big Houston airport was until I was forced to make the journey from Terminal A to Terminal D. Fortunately it was the right terminal and I boarded my plane with only a few minutes to spare. No need to go into detail about the next 3.5 hours of my life I will never get back, you know the drill; cramped seats, broken TV’s, screaming babies, ignorant seat-mates taking up both armrests, horrible food and inconsiderate passengers with oversized carry-ons resulting in my small carry-on being stowed 20 rows behind me. You would think that for the amount of money you pay for an airline ticket these days, you would be reimbursed for lack of service but instead they gouge flyers in every which way they can. I paid 900 dollars for my return flight but in order to even watch a movie or have a glass of juice, they wanted me to swipe my credit card and pay even more money!

I’d like to say I was relieved to finally land at my final destination but I had to endure more airport nuisances before I could finally get to my hotel and some much needed sleep. After a long line-up at immigration, requests to fill out customer satisfaction surveys (which I did because I’m a sucker for those things) and another long wait for my luggage, I finally made it outdoors into a large crowd of waiting taxi drivers yelling “taxi, lady”. I was still dressed in a sweater and jeans when the sweltering heat of tropical San Jose hit me and I had to move away from the aggressive crowd of taxi drivers vying for my business and take a seat somewhere to the side where I could try to remember which cabs I was told were the most reliable – the red ones or the orange ones? Or was it yellow? I couldn’t remember but the heat and lack of sleep was getting to me so I just jumped into the next cab that came along. Fifteen minutes later, I arrived at the Wyndham Herradura and, of course, my room was not ready and wouldn’t be ready for another two hours. When I was finally able to enter my room, I immediately went to bed in order to be rested up for the beginning of my Costa Rica adventure the next morning.

On all of my other international trips, my cell phone always, upon arrival, updated to the current local time. Before I went to sleep my first night in San Jose, Costa Rica, I set my alarm for 6am so I would have enough time to shower and grab some breakfast before hitting the road. I was awake, showered, fed and ready to catch my bus before I realized I had woken up an hour earlier than intended. My cell only registered a two hour time difference instead of the three hour time difference from home. A really small and insignificant thing considering the rest of my time in the country went without incident. Everything was perfect. The Weather Network was predicting rain for more than a week straight for the Nicoya Peninsula; The sun was splitting rocks the entire time I was there! The food, the people, the shopping, the accommodations, the scenery…everything was better than I imagined it would be. And so began my two week journey through Costa Rica and a journey I will not soon forget.