Derailed

Everything happens for a reason and a purpose, and it serves you. — Tony Robbins

Finally, I was there. I was in the shore-diving capital of the world, Bonaire.

Bonaire is an island in the Leeward Antilles in the Caribbean Sea. Aruba, Bonaire, and Curaçao form the ABC island chain, located less than 100 miles northwest of Venezuela. This trip had been years in the making. Not that it is complicated or expensive to get there; timing was really the issue. Delta flies into and out of Bonaire only on Saturday, so you have to commit to staying the entire week. I finally committed.

The beauty of shore diving is that you can go where you want, when you want, without a guide, and without being on the dive-boat schedule.

Two days into my trip, I sprained my ankle. That’s the treachery of shore diving. It’s not as easy as rolling off the back of the boat. When I got out to the marker on my second dive that day, I heard a faint hissing sound. My companion and I tried to fix my air tank in the water but were unsuccessful, so we headed back to the truck. On the way out, thanks to a slippery rock and a nice-sized wave, I fell and twisted my ankle. 

Of all the adventurous things I do, skydiving, trailblazing, sky yoga, cycling, playing tennis, Orange Theory Fitness, etc., how ironic that I hurt myself scuba diving; I can’t think of anything with less physical impact.  

 I opted not to go to the hospital because international ER visits can get complicated when dealing with insurance companies. Besides that, I knew what they were going to say: RICE (rest, ice, compression, elevate).

What now? My companion couldn’t dive alone, and his dive buddy was down for the count. With that many days left on the island, the alternate plan became clear: he should get his solo diver certification. He fought me on it a little because he didn’t want to leave me alone all day, but I was persistent.

He spent the next three days in class and doing practicals, and I rotated from bed to couch to balcony to restaurant to a beach chair in the shade, and back. I was bothered by my immobility, and had to remind myself that life happens for you, not to you. The trip was still a win. My companion got his solo dive certification and I read three books.

By the way, this incident affected my plans for my next adventure. I’d intended to head to the Grand Canyon next month to do some hiking. Needless to say, that is no longer an option. So I’ve made other plans, and now we are going to Roatan, Honduras.     

Instead of looking at a detour as keeping you from where you were going, perhaps consider it as an opportunity to take a new path. As hard as it is, sometimes you just have to trust where you are being led.

What do you do when unexpected events derail your plans?

I want to be Norberto when I grow up...

Seriously, I really want to be just like Norberto when I don't grow up!

Backdrop, it was my birthday, I was in Lisboa (Lisbon in English) Portugal and for my birthday celebration I wanted to experience Portuguese Fado.

Fado is traditional folk music. It includes instruments like guitars and mandolins with one Fadista singing poetic lyrics related to the darker elements of love, death and sadness; on occasion some include humor.

We had the second best seat in the house for the O Faia Fado show. I anxiously anticipated the arrival of the party of table in front of us. In my mind I'd pictured some older arrogant rotund man with his arm candy who'd probably taken an hour to paint on her face just for their evening out. Yes, my thoughts are that vivid; even more so than described here. A couple like that, actually ended up being at the table behind ours 😂. The owner of the best table in the house for the evening, was seated alone. I noticed him when he came in; a genteel man, perfectly put together. 

Our bottle of wine arrived shortly after this distinguished gentlemen was seated. We offered him a glass of our Albariño assuming he didn't order a bottle of wine because he was alone; he politely declined...his wine would be arriving shortly. It was obvious he'd experienced this before because without prompting he said... I ordered a bottle myself, if I drink it, I do, if not oh well. From there we be began to talk ...

Norberto is 78 years young with the spirit of a 21 year old. He is from Argentina but had spent 40+ years living and working in Puerto Rico. He had been to this very same Fado house 20 years before and the same headliner was performing. He arrived earlier that day from Madrid and was heading out on a tour of Portugal on Friday. 

In between performances we talked of travels; well mostly he talked and I was trying to absorb it all. This year alone, he'd conquered Machu Picchu and the Galapagos. He typically travels alone, but he never considers it as such because he always makes friends along the way. I hung on his every word as he told tales of his experiences and shared photos. He was such a fascinating man with an inspiring outlook on life. 

I finally asked, where haven't you been? He answered with ease, Greenland and Mongolia. 

For the last act, Letina Gentil commanded the "stage." I actually smelled her perfume before I laid eyes on her; however, oddly it was not offensive. If I had to compare her to an American artist it would have to be Tina Turner; her presence was really indescribable. Her powerful voice and enormous soul ... the power notes vibrated in my body and when softened, pierced my soul. She had a power move at the end of each of her performances...she'd get very close and face the Fado guitarra and belt out notes that filled the entire space, completely. It was as if she was drawing power from his strumming in to her diaphragm...it was so incredibly moving. I do not speak Portuguese; however, I understood it all, through her passion.

As her set ended, Norberto grabbed her attention and shared his story of having experienced her performance 20 years before. Just then the lights brightened a bit and the staff, followed by the audience began to sing Happy Birthday to me. Our server sat a dessert with a candle down in front of me, followed by another server with glasses of champagne for all three of us. It was the perfect ending.

We chatted with Letina a bit more before she had to go visit with others. Then we continued our conversation with Norberto before they kicked us out.

We insisted Norberto ride back with us. The streets were very alive even though it was well after midnight. He looked back at us and said we shouldn't be going in, we should be out there, pointing to all going on around us. Please remember Norberto is 78 and ready to turn up after midnight...love him. We agreed, but needed to drop shopping bags at our hotel first. By the time we arrived at our hotel either he'd had enough of us or, politely decided maybe we needed to have a little birthday quality time...because he said I will let you two go. I was sad, I didn't want our night with Norberto to end.

Did I mention Norberto was a wiz with a smart phone (iPhone 7, holding out for the X) ...  by the end of the night we'd airdropped photos, exchanged information, and he'd even showed me a trick on WhatsApp.

This was quite possibly one of my best birthdays ever, and I'm certain Norberto was a contributing factor.

My first camping experience...

I know this will sound strange to some; however, I'm in my 40s and just experienced camping for the first time this year. Weird ... I know.

After committing to camping, the first step was gearing up, so off to REI we went. The primary purchase was a pack because this wasn't to be the pull up to a campsite kinda camping, but a hike xx number of miles to a site, hauling all your own gear kinda camping. 

 

Getting fitted for and purchasing the right pack is a very important step and took quite a while. Next we spent quite a bit of time ops testing different sleeping options we'd researched ahead of time online. One serious misstep for me ... my partner doesn't like sleeping bags, so we didn't get one; that'll be relevant later.

If you're unsure how you feel about camping,#REI has a first-time camper program; they will loan you #camping gear to facilitate your camping experience. 

The first site Jon picked was a 10-mile hike; I immediately told him I thought that was a bit overzealous considering I'd never hiked that far with a 30-40lb pack. When we went to pick up our tent from REI we asked for some easy-hike, campsite recommendations. Of course they were eager to help (everyone always seems so happy to be there) and recommended Blood Mountain from Neels Gap which would only be about 4 miles. 

We stopped in at Mountain Crossings, on the Appalachian Trial mostly because someone (who shall remain nameless) forget his rain jacket and it was threatening to rain. While Jon was inside checking out gear, I wondered around with Hollis, checking out the area. There’s a huge tree off to the side where hikers toss their shoes after getting new ones at the outfitter. It was such a neat sight; however, hard to capture with my iPhone. I was walking around the back side of the building and got hit with a foul stench; I stumbled upon some hikers fresh off the #AppalachianTrail…man did they smell. But that’s to be expected when you’re hiking the entire trail. After I watched the movie Wild I thought I wanted to try the PCT or the AT myself; I now know that is not in the cards for me. 

 

After our Mountain Crossings adventure we headed out to find parking at Neels Gap; lucky for us there was one spot remaining. We mounted up and hit the trail. In the end, even that hike was a challenge for me; mountain being the key word. My pack was 37lbs and the elevation was serious! One mile in I thought, then said aloud ... I can't do this. Jon asked if I wanted to turn around ... of course I said no; I wanted to complete this challenge. I had to remind myself often, 1 step at a time. 

We finally made it to the peak of Blood Mountain where we were greeted by a very cheerful Appalachian trail-guide. After a bit of small talk she asked if we were heading back or staying the night; I thought the huge packs were a pretty good indication but hey, I guess we could've been training. We told her we were staying which prompted a follow-up question...do you have a bear container? I immediately shot Jon a disapproving look (1) because I'd asked him about that when we were shopping (something I read when doing my first-timer research), but he said we didn't need that around here and (2) bears, seriously, bears. Since we didn't have one, we couldn't stay at that campsite. All was not lost, there was another campsite about 1.5 miles down the other side of the mountain with a communal bear canister. 

Silly me, I couldn't help but ask if bears were a real concern in this area or if the requirement was just precautionary; her answer was jarring for a few reasons. I could hear her voice as I was typing this. Yes: a few weeks ago a bear bit a camper’s leg through his tent; he didn't have food but his sunblock had coconut oil in it so maybe the bear thought it was food. Then she went on to explain last week she woke to a rat chewing on her chap stick. She'd forgotten to put it away; the rat chewed through the pocket on her pack to get to it. I had an immediate reaction to that because my whole body, literally head (in my hair)-to-toe was covered in coconut oil and in the same pocket she pointed to on her pack, I had vanilla-scented lip balm. She asked if I had wipes and recommended I give my body a good wipe down before going to sleep. 😐

At this point I DID want to go back...I did NOT sign up for bear or rat interactions! After I collected myself, we started down the mountain to the other campsite.

Once we made it to the campsite and picked out a spot to pitch our tent, one of my favorite moments happened. My "city dog", who lives in a condo and takes walks through the concrete jungle to do his business, sniffed out a tree then proceeded to dig a hole. I, a "city girl", had no idea what Hollis was doing. A few minutes later he plopped down in to the hole and went to sleep. I was a proud fur momma. Apparently Mr Hollis was also tired from lugging his pack up and down the mountain; yep I bought him a pack to carry his own food and water...earn your keep.

We readied our site without incident, ate our dinner (various cheeses, deli meats and crackers), chatted with fellow campers set up not far from us, watched the sunset, then prepped for bed. It was a bit chilly so I put on my thermals which I almost didn't bring. We had a whole argument about it ... why do I need thermals in May in Georgia?!? Fine I'll bring them. 

Thank goodness I listened to him. The temperature dropped rapidly after the sun set; I was so cold I couldn't fall asleep. Here's where that sleeping bag would've come in handy...another side eye at Jon as he snored away without a care in the world. I'm not a snuggler; however, I was so close to him, I'm certain when he inhaled he was breathing in my air. Jon sensed my restlessness and after I explained why he told me to put my clothes back on, over my thermals. Gross, but okay anything to warm up. It helped a bit I guess, at some point (mid-morning) I found restless sleep; restless because I kept turning over to warm the opposite side of my body against him. Cold to the bone, the next morning when I woke,  I asked Jon if we can pack up and get moving. After I got warmed up, normal bodily functions kicked in and that is when I learned what a privy was...all I can say about that is yuck, yuck, yuck, but it was very necessary. 

The hike out was also an adventure; we followed an alternative route the trail guide told us about. This trail was obviously the path less traveled; I'm not sure how many spider webs I ran into on the way back but it was unnerving. 

All in all, I'd do it again; however, maybe a couple of pull-in camp sites and I'll certainly never camp again without a sleeping bag. 

What will your next adventure be?