Movin’ on up

Welcome back me!

Sorry for the delay in posts. I was sailing the Caribbean on an all expenses paid, 7 day cruise! Thank you Arbonne! And so naturally, the theme of my post today is totally relevant to my hiatus from the blog. It’s about my travels through the Caribbean. Actually, it’s specifically about my experience in Jamaica, but you know… whose counting. It’s a travel Thursday so it fits.

When I was in Jamaica this past week, I had a very unique experience. If you were on the cruise with me, you will hardly consider it unique since most of us from the cruise (and any other cruise to Jamaica for that matter) had this same experience, but even still, I’m going to go ahead and call it unique.

I hiked up the face of a water fall.

And I mean quite literally just that. But let me start from the beginning.

When I was still safely home in America, I read the description of the excursions that went out from the dock in Jamaica. My Mother- my travel partner- and I decided that Jamaica would probably be our best bet for an excursion because it was the island we both knew least about. Neither of us had been there and so we figured we could stand to learn something.

So each of the excursions leaving from the dock in Jamaica all ended up at Dunn’s River Falls at one point or another during the day. Our particular excursion- that is to say, the one we ended up purchasing- went first to a plantation in Jamaica, where we were able to learn about and sample the crops, as well as tour the Great House. Then we went on to a Jamaican buffet- complete with the infamous Jerk Chicken- and then alas, we ended our afternoon at Dunn’s River Falls.

Now when I originally read about all the excursions and realized that most of the excursions went to this location, I figured that it was one of those tourist ‘must see’s’ and we would be able to climb some rocks and be done with it. Maybe take a dip if it was hot enough… but truly, it’s never that hot for me.

That is… until I experienced the heat of Jamaica. But that is neither here nor there.

When we purchased our excursion and they told us that water shoes were recommended… even then I thought that perhaps they were just covering their bases. They didn’t want us to get hurt romping around in the water.

Of course, I, completely afraid of the water, had no intention of actually going in.

When we got off the bus on Wednesday in Jamaica, I still had no idea as to what I had gotten myself into. When the old, German man in front of me took off both his shorts AND underwear AND bent down to pull up his swim shorts, exposing not only his ass but his FULL ball sack… only then did I realize that this might not be what I thought it was going to be.

And man… was I right.

We all got wrist bands as we headed into the “Dunn’s River Fall’s Park”. They asked us to get into two lines… those who were climbing the falls and those who were not. Of course I was going to climb the falls. I mean, how hard could it be? I still didn’t really expect to even get wet. I fully intended to climb right along side the water fall. How on earth would you climb a water fall even if you wanted to? I had no idea.

But the line of people forming in the ‘don’t want to climb’ line was a little unnerving.

So we headed into the park, and those of us who were climbing the falls headed down this winding path down and down and down. Farther and Farther. And all the while I could hear the sound of rushing water. I couldn’t see it… but I was painfully aware of it.

Once at the bottom of the winding cement path, we were introduced to our guide. He was a very enthusiastic gentleman. A very enthusiastic and very WET gentleman.

He led us even farther still… all the way out into the Ocean. Knee deep in the warm, Caribbean ocean I began to worry. What was about to happen to me? I mean, by that point I could see the tail end of what I could tell was an enormous water fall coming down the rocks and emptying into the ocean, but certainly there was no way of climbing up it. I mean, clearly that was a death sentence.

But climb we did. Right up the front. Just like they said we would. I just couldn’t believe what was happening…

He told us all to join hands. I grabbed my mom’s hand no problem, but the guy standing next to me was the very same German man whose balls I had just seen only 15 minutes earlier. I was a little less willing to grab onto him. But alas, the guides insisted. And the guides were quite frankly, a little too chipper for the impending doom that I could hear right around the corner.

So off we went, hand in hand… one long line of about 20 unstable tourists from all around the world. And we were all headed towards the sound… towards the water… towards a very unique experience.

At first I didn’t have a lot of time to realize what was happening. The line was moving forward and we had no choice but to continue along with them- we were all linked after all- but that didn’t help my anxiety. As we began to climb I noticed that we seemed to be moving away from deep water, and mostly sticking to wet rocks where the water had found it’s way around, but that didn’t last long. Before I knew it, I was placing my foot in the center of a jet of water that was rushing past me, challenging my footing. It was all I could do to keep my foot there, let along keep my hands in the grasp of someone else.

But you know what…

The people above me pulled me up before I even had the chance to fall… and the people below me were there when I began to falter there way.

It was truly an amazing team building activity. It’s amazing how dangling your life in the balance will really make you bond with a stranger.

But before we knew it, my mom and I were laughing, and climbing and although I don’t know when it happened… we didn’t need the help of the guy in front of us all the time anymore. But when we were about to fall… it was there; that helping hand. Just out of no where, someone would grab my elbow and prevent a whip out. It was pretty cool, I have to say.

And after 960 feet, we did get wet. At points we were chest deep in water. I even slid down a rock into a pool if you can believe that.

I know that picture makes it look totally un-scary, but trust me… it was terrible when it was happening. Sure my head stayed dry, but that’s hardly the measure of terror.

So needless to say… my mother and I climbed the front of a 960 foot water fall… right up the face of it. I can’t say that I am overcoming my fear of the water, but I do think that climbing a water fall is a step in the right direction. I mean, as long as there is a German guy there to catch you when you fall, how can you lose?