A wonderful breakfast of fruit and pancakes cannot settle that feeling of dread in the depths of my stomach. I’ve booked a zip lining session in the rain forest canopies, but at this point in time I am still unsure if I will go through with it. I guess I’ll find out when I’m standing at the top of a platform, crying to be taken down.
I start slowly, walking the two hour trail over the sky bridges. I wish my pictures could do justice to the grandeur of the spectacle. Plants and trees I have never seen in my life tower up and around me as I walk in the air. It’s a remarkable sight, and a wonderful way to start my day. Yet gnawing at the back of my mind and perhaps keeping me from really enjoying the sights, is whether or not I will chuck myself off a ridiculously high platform, with only a harness between me and a 3,500ft fall. On Friday the 13th. I’m making excuses already I really want to spot a monkey. Perhaps that will take the stress away.
What isn’t taking the stress away is the rustling sounds coming from the undergrowth. I’m walking alone, my pace taking me beyond dawdling, snap happy tourists. Suddenly I’m in a rain forest. A rain forest alive with sounds, unfamiliar noises and dangerous looking plants. My mind outruns itself. I envisage being attacked by a swarm of killer insects, or turning to see a bushmaster sssslithering on my shoulder. With a lump in my throat, I realise I have no idea what to do if I see anything doesn’t look like a cow. I wish I had my worst case scenario survival guide. All I can remember from that little stocking filler is you need to clench your arse closed if you jump from a great height into a river. Not very useful if I’m to be gored by a leopard.
After being a little disappointed in failing to spot any creatures of note, save something that looked like a squirrel, I head into the hummingbird garden. I cannot tell you how exhilarating it feels to have these beautiful little birds whipping around your head, beating the air with seemingly invisible wings. I discover I don’t need to pay $40 to confirm I already know I’m terrified of heights, and happily spend over two hours trying to get the perfect photograph; which I never actually achieve because the little bastards won’t stay still.
The one o’clock shuttle whisks me back into town, in time to catch my bus to San Jose. As I’m standing strumming a few chords on my guitar to pass the time, a very pretty young lady asks if I’m traveling alone. We fall into conversation as if we were old friends, and the next four hours of travel go by pleasantly. We talk openly about relationships, past, present and possibly future. She drives the conversation, and I can’t help but smile in having her company to take the edge off the journey. I play my guitar to sooth a crying child. We tell jokes and find common ground. As I doze and toy with the option of sleep, she flicks on her ipod;
“If you need anything just pull my earphones out…”
In a flash, the next moment has been and gone. My imagination films the next interaction, as I remove her earphones, whisper that I do need something, and give her a passionate kiss. At least that’s what I wanted to happen; if I didn’t have two day bum fluff, cashew nut breath and a cold sore. Still, it played out nice in my head.
“Perhaps you’re not going to find the one at the end of a bar” she comments, shortly before we part, with a warm hug and a smile. I know she’s right. Perhaps I’ll find her playing my guitar while waiting at a bus stop.
An attraction to strings
A wonderful breakfast of fruit and pancakes cannot settle that feeling of dread in the depths of my stomach. I’ve booked a zip lining session in the rain forest canopies, but at this point in time I am still unsure if I will go through with it. I guess I’ll find out when I’m standing at the top of a platform, crying to be taken down.
I start slowly, walking the two hour trail over the sky bridges. I wish my pictures could do justice to the grandeur of the spectacle. Plants and trees I have never seen in my life tower up and around me as I walk in the air. It’s a remarkable sight, and a wonderful way to start my day. Yet gnawing at the back of my mind and perhaps keeping me from really enjoying the sights, is whether or not I will chuck myself off a ridiculously high platform, with only a harness between me and a 3,500ft fall. On Friday the 13th. I’m making excuses already I really want to spot a monkey. Perhaps that will take the stress away.
What isn’t taking the stress away is the rustling sounds coming from the undergrowth. I’m walking alone, my pace taking me beyond dawdling, snap happy tourists. Suddenly I’m in a rain forest. A rain forest alive with sounds, unfamiliar noises and dangerous looking plants. My mind outruns itself. I envisage being attacked by a swarm of killer insects, or turning to see a bushmaster sssslithering on my shoulder. With a lump in my throat, I realise I have no idea what to do if I see anything doesn’t look like a cow. I wish I had my worst case scenario survival guide. All I can remember from that little stocking filler is you need to clench your arse closed if you jump from a great height into a river. Not very useful if I’m to be gored by a leopard.
After being a little disappointed in failing to spot any creatures of note, save something that looked like a squirrel, I head into the hummingbird garden. I cannot tell you how exhilarating it feels to have these beautiful little birds whipping around your head, beating the air with seemingly invisible wings. I discover I don’t need to pay $40 to confirm I already know I’m terrified of heights, and happily spend over two hours trying to get the perfect photograph; which I never actually achieve because the little bastards won’t stay still.
The one o’clock shuttle whisks me back into town, in time to catch my bus to San Jose. As I’m standing strumming a few chords on my guitar to pass the time, a very pretty young lady asks if I’m traveling alone. We fall into conversation as if we were old friends, and the next four hours of travel go by pleasantly. We talk openly about relationships, past, present and possibly future. She drives the conversation, and I can’t help but smile in having her company to take the edge off the journey. I play my guitar to sooth a crying child. We tell jokes and find common ground. As I doze and toy with the option of sleep, she flicks on her ipod;
“If you need anything just pull my earphones out…”
In a flash, the next moment has been and gone. My imagination films the next interaction, as I remove her earphones, whisper that I do need something, and give her a passionate kiss. At least that’s what I wanted to happen; if I didn’t have two day bum fluff, cashew nut breath and a cold sore. Still, it played out nice in my head.
“Perhaps you’re not going to find the one at the end of a bar” she comments, shortly before we part, with a warm hug and a smile. I know she’s right. Perhaps I’ll find her playing my guitar while waiting at a bus stop.
Somewhere around the world.