Venus in Caribbean Beat inflight magazine

Click on this link to read about the adventures of my dog Venus in Caribbean Beat.

Tobago Peeps: Tobago Treasure Map

The art of map reading is a useful skill to have. Some people (myself excluded) are “map people”, easily able to use maps to navigate successfully around new landscapes. A friend of mine, before going traveling in South America, wisely embarked upon a map reading course—something I never knew existed until she said she was going to do it.

As children, one of my sisters and I often created ‘treasure maps’. We would draw fictitious landscapes on pieces of tracing paper, the edges of which we then singed with candle flames to create a parched, antiquated look. Guided by our cartographical artwork, we would go digging in the garden for buried treasure.

I still view maps as treasure maps of sorts. More than simply being practical tools for finding specific locations, they are networks of possibilities leading to unfolding adventures and (one of my favourite words) serendipity—the finding of something valuable or delightful when not looking for it.

Now, with a Skyview map sprawled before me, I close my eyes, circle my hand over the paper expanse of Tobago and, after a while, set my index finger down on a spot at random: Nutmeg Grove. I have never been there—at least not knowingly but, possibly unintentionally, I might have taken a “wrong turn” and passed through in the quest for some other destination.

The name conjures images of groves of nutmeg trees, but because locations often don’t visually match what their names suggest, I can’t be sure what the area is actually like. Maybe it is peppered with small rural houses—and possibly very few because (if my understanding of the map is correct) the area is located somewhere in the Tobago Forest Reserve.

The randomness of selecting Nutmeg Grove brings to mind a story someone shared via Facebook: It is Easter weekend and two young Torontonians, on their second date together, spontaneously decide to go to the airport and hop on the first available, affordable flight—to wherever. Long story short, they end up flying via Westjet to spend the weekend in Tobago, experiencing jazz, beaches, waterfalls and as much “island life” as they can fit in to their three unplanned days.

In a world where so much of daily life is organized and orchestrated, the magic of random or spontaneous acts and moments is often lost. Something about the unintentionally chosen Nutmeg Grove draws me and I sense that the impulse to go there may have little to do with the place itself. The Ralph Waldo Emerson quote comes to mind: “Life is a journey, not a destination.”

Who or what will I experience on my journey to this place? Today is as good a day as any to find out … Skyview map in hand to lead the way.

I peruse the Map Icon Key. The highway, signified by what looks like a red and yellow train line, is short, covering only the distance from Lowlands to Dwight York Stadium. Before and after those points, the route is defined by a yellow line which, according to the Map Key, is a ‘Main Rd’. That one Main Road runs like a frame around the island.

To get to Nutmeg Grove, I can turn off the highway to drive along Providence Road, then on to Northside Road. The map seems quite straightforward. On the right, just after the name Mason Hall, there is a broken white line (“Parishes”, according to the Map Key) that veers off from Northside Road. This, according to the map, leads to Nutmeg Grove.

The day is young and I am free to see where this journey takes me.

"Just for You" Self Love Weekend Retreat (Tobago)

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Choose any weekend ... and it is yours (availability permitting)
 
Each customised "Just for You" Self Love Weekend Retreat caters for one person at a time. If that person is you, you are dreaming of spending quality personal time in a supportive, relaxing space ... to let go, find answers, be inspired, create new possibilities and meet someone wonderful ... Yourself.

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The Just for You retreat is a product within Thou Art Yoga's W.O.W. (Wonderful One Weekend) retreat series.

Sold out and a great ride

SOLD OUT

I sent out the ad for the heart calendar yesterday and it is now sold out. Granted there were only 50 (four of which I am keeping), but still, I think that's pretty good.

Yesterday evening I went riding with a friend and her cousin in Gran Couva, one of my favourite places in TT because of its vibrant greenery, fresh air, peaceful spirit, rolling hills.

We started off from her cousin's house at around 5:00-ish. The ride took us up and down hills, past homes with open doors, windows and no burglar proofing. I always notice when I am in areas with no burglar proofing. In a country where many live in houses that look like jails, windows without bars says a lot about the community's level of safety, values and togetherness.

It was a verdant ride and the late afternoon sun coming from the west was streaming through the bamboo and leaves to our right, reminding me of stained glass in the Church of Nature.

Whizzing down hills, it was great feeling my jersey puffing up in the breeze . . . and riding up hill, pumping our thighs, I thought of yoga and those times when holding a posture seems difficult, but you go through it anyway and come out on the other side. 

Keep up and you will be kept up (Yogi Bhajan)

Maybe a total of about five or six cars, driving slowly (i.e. not speeding as they do up north and in the west), passed us on the road. I felt like I was back in "the good old days" where everything was more laid back and simple. Cool breeze, freedom, relaxation. I noted people lounging in hammocks under their houses, sitting on their steps, enjoying the fresh country air, having drinks, talking. It was perfect.

My body is thanking me for the experience. I had one of the deepest sleeps I've had in ages and woke up feeling like a new person.

Unwinding

Spinning on a large wooden swing that was hanging from a branch of a tree across the road from the old wooden Tortuga Church. My friend G had twisted the rope and released it, hence the revolution. Actually this happened approximately 30 minutes after this.

Slippery when wet

On Wednesday afternoon, with about an hour to spare before we were due at a healing circle, a friend and I decided to go and visit the old Tortuga Church (which I first encountered when I was asked to write an article some time ago for the magazine Build TT). On the way, we stopped off to have a look at this expansive landfill which had fascinated me when I first came across it in 2008.

As always, I had my camera with me and decided to get a video clip of the miles of garbage.

Ignoring the warning of one of the scavengers who had emerged from the rotting stench ("Doh go dere, yuh go fall!"), I clambered up the mound of clay-like dirt which was wet and (as I quickly discovered) slippery after that day's rainfall.

What you see in the video isn't as bad as it looks. Thankfully quick reflexes and the art of balance saved me from actually landing in the mud. It all happened so quickly. I slowed down the video so the action plays out more clearly.

N.B. the expletive at the end in slow motion.

The Vagina Stone

The Vagina Stone
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Spent the night on the coast (Balandra) with two friends. Woke up early this morning as always and did yoga. By the time I was done, it was still dark and the others were nowhere near waking. I waited until dawn cracked and walked to the beach - about one minute down the little road.

It was the first time I had seen this cove and, for a while, I felt like I was in a different country - a different world or dimension, even. It had rained the day before and the atmosphere was still slightly misty, mystical, with grey sky, silver sea and glistening stones all around me. I stood looking out to the horizon, projecting thoughts and visions of things to come, as the sky began to streak pink with sunrise.

At one point I glanced down and there at my feet was what looked like a vagina. I picked it up and cleaned the sand out of its hollow. The shape of the hollow reminded me of a keyhole in a secret door. Very fitting for the vagina - the portal through which we all pass to come into this world.

Later, when I showed my friends the stone, they also saw it as a vagina and agreed that it has a power to it. It's the kind of stone that you can whisper wishes or questions into, then hold to your ear to receive guidance and answer(s).

After the fire

Over the weekend there was a huge bush fire on the hill next to the house. The hill is bare land (bush, grass and some trees) and, being dry season, everything was brown and incendiary. Suspicion is that some people living on the fringe were burning a fire in their garden (not wise during dry season) and a spark from their fire set off the blaze. There was a lot of wind that day and the tall flames were advancing quickly toward the house. Luckily there was water in the taps and, with three hoses, we managed to keep the flames at bay. It was my first and hopefully last experience of "fighting fire". Scary at first, but (once we had it under control) exciting and even beautiful to watch and listen to the flames.

By the time the fire engine arrived about an hour later, most of the fire was out.

When it was all over and I was going to turn off the hose, I looked down at my feet and saw the heart-shaped stone in the above image. For a long while after, even when I took it back inside with me, it was still hot. It has been sitting with me ever since - and every time I hold it, it feels like it's more than just "a rock" ... or, more precisely, more than just a piece of concrete with small stones embedded in it.

What powers do you possess, Fire Heart?

Bat cave adventure

Yesterday I went to Tamana Caves for the second time. With me were my friend Nicola, Pascal (a visiting French photographer/new friend) and Ivan, our tour guide. An easy hike through the forest (approx. 45 minutes, stopping to look at things) took us to our destination. The Tamana Caves are estimated to contain more than 3 million bats. At 6 p.m. daily they fly out in a mass exodus which lasts about an hour or more.

Me and Nicola in the cave

Some of the bats in the cave. The caves, filled with millions more bats, go really deep ... too deep for us to reach.
(l. to r.) Bat, Nicola, me, Pascal

Some of the bats beginning to emerge from the depths of the cave at 6 p.m. They pass so close that the air from their wings is constantly wafting against your skin. An intriguing experience.