On Mags, the wonders of an English accent, and the charm of Mother Nature

I’m not really sure what it is about an English accent that makes a person sound more intelligent, but there’s definitely something about it. I would have cast it off as a personal observation, but after performing very scientific research on the matter (asking many of my friends and some guests) the consensus is that English accents make people sound more intelligent and can sometimes make people more attractive….but that’s a completely different subject for an entirely different blog.

I bring this up, because today marks the one month Anniversary of my birthday whale watching excursion with Margaret (aka Mags). Margaret was a guest of ours form Kent, England who had traveled to Dominica with her daughter that was working in Barbados at the time. Margaret possessed everything that one would ever hope for in an English grandmother: She used words like “lovely” and “delightful,” called her bathing suit a “costume” her pants “trousers,” adored animals (especially birds), and had a genuine positive spirit that was an absolute delight to be around.…She was really quite lovely….

As I previously mentioned, Margaret is particularly fond of birds and I caught her adoring the birds of Dominica on a few different occasions…which essentially is the reason I began adoring her. We first met when our paths crossed on the walk to our respective cottages and we struck up a friendly conversation. A little bird began to hover in a nearby bush and in mid-sentence Margaret momentarily paused to admire the bird and then said, “Oh,isn’t that just lovely” and picked up the conversation exactly where she had left off…it was at that moment that I thought she was just lovely.

I am very grateful that our paths crossed that day, and we went whale watching to celebrate our September birthdays that were coincidentally a day apart. Before we left for the birthday excursion Margaret has asked me if I had ever seen whales before: I casually told her that I had seen them once in New England and once in Alaska. She then proceeded to tell me how fortunate I was, and that her birthday wish was to see one on our excursion (so cute). Chalk that up to one more thing I had taken for granted, for I had never considered myself lucky to have seen whales. Today, I feel fortunate for not only the opportunities to go whale watching, but to have also met Margaret whose youthful love of birds, butterflies, whales, and all things nature was quite contagious and gave me a whole new set of eyes to look at Mother Nature through. So for that, I say "Thanks Mags!"

Thanks for reading, and have a lovely, delightful, and charming day.

Until the next adventure,
Voula

On FEARLESSNESS

Do you remember when you stopped being Fearless? We are absolutely fearless when we are younger, as no adventure ever seems too dangerous, no stunt ever seems too stupid, and no decision ever seem like a really bad idea. I can recall doing all kinds of crazy things that would require a large sum of money for a repeat performance now. Things like:

Not wearing a Helmet, Knee pads, wrist guards, life vest, sun block, sweatbands, shin guards, the proper footwear, cell phone, gortex, sunglasses, bug repellent, and water-resistant clothing, WHEN; riding my bike, roller skating which later became roller blading, playing any kind of sport, skiing octagonal black diamonds*, riding pegs on a friend’s bicycle, sitting on the handlebars of a friend’s bicycle, walking in New York city, wading in a brook, hiking through the woods** of my Northern Jersey suburb, and all the other adventures you seem to find when you’re younger.
*I’m not really sure if octagonal diamonds even exist, but that’s what I would rank the trails now
**The woods I grew up seem very wimpy in comparison to the rainforests and jungles of Dominica since I could go through the entire woods and get to my friend’s house on the other side in under twenty minutes

But anyway, I’ve recently been thinking of when I lost my Fearlessness because a group of the world’s best kayakers are staying with us at Jungle Bay as they set out to kayak the rivers of Dominica for an article in the December issue of Outside Magazine. With 365 rivers in Dominica, or “one for every day of the year” as the locals will proudly tell you, the guys have a lot of terrain to cover. But if the fact that they were studying the “topo” map on their first night here by lantern light like the Goonies trying the find the route to One Eyed Willy’s hidden treasure was any indication of anything, I think it’s safe to say that they are up for the challenge.


You see this group of modern day Goonies, are not among your typical “let’s go for a leisurely float down the river kind of kayakers,” but rather among the not so typical "let’s go be the first one’s to ever kayak this river” kind of kayakers. Or make a "first descent" as they say in the kayaking world. Collectively, they have over a hundred fist descents in rivers all over the world from India, to China, to Africa, to South America, and now to Dominica. As if being the first to kayak a river in remote locations all over the globe isn’t enough of an adrenaline rush by itself for these guys, another past time they enjoy is running waterfalls. What is a running waterfall you ask? Well instead of getting out of the river, or “taking out,” upon reaching a waterfall like most people would probably do, these guys actually go over “run” the waterfall.

Click here to check out Josh Bechtel's blog on the paddling trip...PS he's the guy in the kayak going over the waterfall

When Sam (the owner and GM of Jungle Bay) first told me he had to scope out the waterfalls of Dominica for a potential Outside Magazine story, I thought to myself that these guys must be fearless, hence the intrigue, but absolutely nuts. Who in their right mind kayaks an 80 foot waterfall for “ships and giggles?” THE BAFFLEMENT.

But as I’ve been listening to their stories, and learning more about the sport this week, I’ve definitely come to admire their ability to overcome fear, which brings to mind a favorite part in Zoolander when Hansel (Owen Wilson) is describing his heroes for the awards show montage:

"Sting. Sting would be another person who's a hero of mine. The music he's created over the years, I don't really listen to it, but the fact that he's making it, I respect that."

So in conclusion, I don’t really want to kayak over a waterfall, but the fact that these guys are out there doing it, I respect that.

Thanks for reading, and take care until the next adventure.

Voula

P.S. “Topo” is short for topographical for all you non-nature, non waterfall running people out there ☺
P.P.S. I had no idea what it was the first time I heard it either ☺☺

“Je m'appelle” Voula

I realized that up until this weekend I have successfully managed to avoid speaking French. Seriously, “Bonjour” may have been the only word in my French vocabulary: Which I only knew because of the song in the Disney movie “Beauty and Beast” when Belle goes to town and is greeted by the baker with his same old bread and rolls to sell like always. But anyway, I am not quite sure if this is something I've entirely subconsciously either. For, I have always referred to the food chain Au Bon Pan as “ABP,” and chose to study Spanish in high school unlike my two older sisters who had studied French.

This revelation came to my attention this past weekend when we hosted a group of 40+ people from the neighboring (French speaking) islands of Guadalupe and Martinque and I attempted to explain amongst some other things; what time the “long walk” (hike) was leaving, why the hot water may take a few moments to come on (energy conservation), why their choices of juice were now guava and karambola aka star fruit (because the pineapple had just run out), and that there really wasn’t anywhere on property for them to buy more cigarettes.

This experience was significant for me because it probably was the first time in my life that I was at a complete loss, and regardless of how bad I wanted to, could do nothing about it. Allow me to explain….

I am by no means fluent in Greek and Spanish (sometimes I wonder if English too), but I know enough of each language to get by with a valiant effort to speak the language or a fun combination of the language + English. And when traveling to places where I didn’t speak the language like Italy and Bulgaria, I have always been accompanied by someone who could communicate for me.

Therefore, when the group first got off the bus and invaded Jungle Bay with their stylish clothes and beautifully spoken FOREIGN language, it was the first time in my life I had to use the shoulder shrug + palms in the air combination to express the fact I had no idea what they were saying. Unlike Renee Zellwelgger in Jerry Maguire, they lost me at “Bonjour”

But I’m happy to report with what little English they knew, and with my very expressive hand gestures I was indeed able to explain the concept of energy conservation to the guests, and even managed to pick up a few words in the end. My favorite is the word for water which is spelled l’eau but actually pronounced “OH.” It was quite fun walking around the Pavilion Restaurant on Saturday night with my water pitcher and just asking “Oh?. Oh? Oh? ” So although the French language ruined my subconscious (or not so subconscious) attempt to avoid it, in the end I think it was a draw. To which I say: Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Au revoir until the next adventure, and thanks for reading.
Voula

On MOUNTAIN BIKING

On Mountain Biking:

So I had an epiphany the other day that I felt was worth blogging about. Just because you may have ridden a mountain bike, that doesn’t actually mean that you have been MOUNTAIN BIKING. Allow me to explain:

While I was living in DC, I had used a mountain bike as a means of transportation to and from campus, work, the Metro stop, etc. So when Laura asked if I had ever mountain biked before, I naively answered yes and told her how excited I was for our afternoon excursion. Silly Voula. I am sure you avid riders out there are probably reading this and thinking, “Duh….silly city girl.”

Anyway, I quickly learned as we rode over the rocks to leave Jungle Bay that real MOUNTAING BIKING is actually quite different when you’re not on pavement. While I was absolutely terrified the whole time thinking that each rock would be the one to send me into orbit, or that the each patch of brush would be the one with the wild animal lurking in it, it was absolutely exhilarating. The view from the beach [finish line] alone was worth all the fear, not to mention all the calories I had burned. I am happy to report that I only fell upon trying to get off the bike, which in my defense was too high for me. The fall occurred when I was riding up the big hill, (like that narrows it down in Dominica) the one right after you cross the White River and are climbing up to Jungle Bay, and my quadriceps had said to my brain, “We’re burning and would really like it if you would stop and walk the rest of the way up this hill. Thank You.” My brain got the message, but apparently my body really wanted to say “Hello” to the ground so down I went. Laura, who witnessed the whole scene (but not the dialogue) said it all kind of happened in slow motion and that I had been doing so well up to that point. Oh well, can it really be called MOUNTAIN BIKING if you don’t come back with any dirt or scratches on you?

Lessons Learned:
1. Make sure your seat is at the proper height
2. Riding a Mountain Bike over Pavement isn’t mountain biking
3. The reward at the end is sometimes worth the fear
4. Make sure that your body, burning quads, and brain are all in agreement


Thanks for reading, and take care.

Until the next adventure,

Voula