Next week I’ll be jetting off to South East Asia so pretty soon I’ll have all sorts of new posts, but right now I want to run back through my archives and write about some old experiences. I missed #ThrowbackThursday… how about #FondmemoryFriday ? Can that be a thing?? #Way-back-whenWeekend ? Whatever we’re calling it, I’m taking you along as I reminisce on my time North of the Arctic Circle.
My memory was triggered last week when I visited the National Gallery in Ottawa and viewed the Inuit Art exhibit. Beautiful collection, by the way. I think I’ve mentioned in this blog that my previous career took me to all sorts of locations, and one of those was the Canadian Arctic. This is a unique world unlike anything else I have ever experienced and I consider myself spectacularly fortunate to have had the chance to be there.
In 2007 and 2008 the company I worked for had a contract with one of the airlines serving remote Arctic communities, and I would spend two weeks at a time on rotation up North. Dramatic landscapes, extreme temperatures, different languages, new foods – there were many times I had to stop and remind myself I was still in my own home country! (At least until I started talking with someone again: I found Canadian Inuit people to be very generous and friendly!) In summer the sun doesn’t set, and 24 hour daylight is something that takes some time to get used to. But that’s a much easier adjustment than winter, where the constant darkness is made even worse by the incomprehensible temperatures. (Negative 45 degrees Celsius in not uncommon during winter!)
The past few days have been really great, if I do say so myself. I’m in a little town called Tamraght right on the coast and have spent my entire Saturday as a beach bum. Now, just before the sun sets, I’m sitting in the common room of the hostel watching the Germany vs. Italy soccer game with 5 other people while we wait for dinner to be served.
Here’s what caught my eye in town:
Yesterday was much more action packed than today’s low-key lounging. It started out Thursday, when another couple at this hostel mentioned they were planning on going for a hike and invited me to join them. I would have said yes regardless; as an added bonus Lexi and Cody turned out to be a ton of fun and it’s easy to be friends with them! So anyway, Friday morning after our second cups of coffee (Lexi and I have that in common) the three of us and another 2 Italians made our way to Paradise Valley. The name sums it up nicely. A 45 minute drive from here through arid foothills is the start of an easy hike into a vibrant valley full of banana trees, argan, and lavender. A few kms later brought us to the most stunning series of natural pools. We saw a few other people early on, but we kept hiking and ended up at our own secluded oasis.
Sunshine, clear warm water, and daredevil dives from way too high. Thankfully everyone walked back out again without the need for a neck brace, but I have to admit the safety nerd side of me had a few internal panic attacks. For the record, though, I need to let you know that even I jumped off the rocks!!! No big deal…. 🙂
Friday evening finished off with us on the rooftop back at the hostel, swapping stories and laughing until long after dark. So good!
After a few days getting my bearings in the city, it’s time for a change. I booked a day trip to hike Cascade Ouzoud.
Careening along the Atlas mountain range on our way to the second largest waterfall on the continent. I’m trying to figure out when I became such a scaredy cat. I remember being 21 and backpacking in Bolivia I was on the official “World’s Most Dangerous Road” curving down a mountain. I actually sought that out and thought it was hilarious. Now almost 12 years later I’m envisioning the worst while I watch the wheels of our van send gravel flitting down the cliff side from a road that feels eerily similar. Maybe it’s because the shape of this tourist van strikes a mild resemblance to an overgrown golf cart, all boxy and with a high roof, that’s increasing my heart rate. (As I learned a couple weeks ago, those things tip over when you least expect it!!)
Still in one piece, my little group of 8 other travellers and I began the hike to the waterfalls. We met a local guide, a leathery man named Rashid that could scamper up and down the mountain in circles around the best of us. Along the way he would stop at a tree here and there to tell us in French what it was and how old. I know it was just to give us a chance to catch up with him, but I did appreciate learning that there are 800 year old olive trees here.
And then the falls came into view. Incredible. Our stunning oasis complete with little swimming hole was even better than promised, and I couldn’t wait to get into the water.
Now here’s where the Fear part comes into play again…. Just as I was getting to the water’s edge I saw a commotion. Two local teen guys on a homemade pontoon boat were trying to fish something out with a plank from their boat – a WATER SNAKE. This is seriously my #1 fear and you’ve probably heard me say that before. (Any old snake is bad enough, but a snake in the water is just so much worse for me! They can slither up so fast and your whole body is at risk not just an ankle or something!)
I saw them get it out and flick it to the rocks nearby, so I knew that one was gone, but there could be countless others out there…. Surprise ending, guys: I still jumped in the water!! I almost can’t believe it myself, and am stupidly proud of that little feat. (So I maybe stayed in and swam only 2 minutes, or less, but it still counts!!)
The rest of the day was pleasantly uneventful, dodging macaque monkeys on the hike out and persistent vendors back in town.