A story about perceptions

I don't know if you've ever had the pleasure of planning a hike before, but there is a whole wealth of tools online which are super-helpful in detailing trail lengths, elevations, comments from hikers before telling of difficult passages or goals that make the challenge of the hike worthwhile. We often use these tools to verify what we need to pack, which direction we should follow, or whether a hike is "Cathy-rated', as Mario likes to put it. The Saut de la Lézarde hike had all indications of being a simple one. It was a short, 1 km hike in, which should have taken about 1.5 hours return. It finished at a beautiful waterfall in the rainforest, with a large, calm pool at its base, perfect for swimming, and most people come here for that specific reason. Most of the tour books played up this fact. So when we parked on the side of the road and gathered our stuff, we were not prepared for the strenuous, technical challenge that awaited us.

Mario checking out the abandoned building	Beautiful artwork on the walls
Cathy sliding her way down	Mario using the porcelain rose stalks
Navigating the root ladder	In the rainforest here

It turns out, and we would have realized this with a little more in-depth research, that Saut de la Lézard is an incredibly steep hike, straight down to the waterfall. Since 2008, it has been "closed", by municipal decree, but we have discovered that one: this usually is done to absolve the state of any responsibility should someone hurt themselves, and two: that the trail is NOT maintained. Which it is not. We enter past a metal fence that has been pushed aside, and contour an old abandonned building, coloured brightly with grafitti. Maybe it was once a hotel, or a restaurant, or both, but the windows and doors are shuttered, and the forest has taken hold. Just past, a steep, mucky slope descends into the trees. Stalks of porcelaine roses line either side, pulled down by many a hiker trying to grab hold of something to stop themselves from slipping uncontrollably. We pass others who suggest that is the way to go, and so we grab a hold, too, and slowly slide our way to the next challenge.

Next, we come face to face with a root ladder, maybe 10 metres in height, lined with more of that sticky mud. The going is a little easier here, as we pick our points and work our way from "rung" to "rung", until we finally make it to the bottom and a flat spot in the trail. Apparently, this was the hardest part, says someone on their way back up, everything is smooth sailing from here. Easy to say, but the narrow path is slick with mud that has been churned up by many a dripping bather before us, and so we can't move too fast or risk sliding into the rainforest. A little more rock-scrambling, and little more root-navigating, and soon we can hear the water, and soon we can see the falls. We head down the last set of flat rocks to the edge of a gorgeous pool of clear water, being fed by not one one massive waterfall, but a whole circle of little falls and drips, running off of the circular cliffs surrounding the area. It's absolutely magical - and full of people swimming and lounging and taking pictures and eating their lunches... not such a isolated, magical place after all! It is beautiful, though, and I am a little sad to not have my swimsuit so that I can jump into the cooling waters, as I am hot and sweaty and muddy. 

We pause for a moment to take in the scene, the beauty and the coolness, then begin the arduous task of picking our way back out of the valley again, along those muddy slopes and root ladders. It's a little easier going, but still just as challenging, and when we emerge at the top to a group of what can only be described as bathers, with the swimsuits and towels and flipflops, I make a point of telling them that they are NOT prepared for what is to come, as they look about ready to navigate about 20 m of sand on a beach, and not the descent we just completed. I check the guide book when we get back to the car:

 Prévoyez des vêtements de rechange(chemin boueux). Attention, le terrain est très glissant et en mauvais état. Il faut parfois prendre appui sur les rochers et s'accrocher aux arbres pour descendre jusqu'au pied de la chute.

So there you have it. We just didn't take into account that the French guidebook tends to downplay all hikes. But we made it in one piece, and I can safely say some of the other people heading in won't. 

Smoked fish tasting platter	Really cool place to hang out
House-brewed lime soda	Crepes Saintoises, crispy and filled with fish

As a reward for our bravery, Mario and I headed to Bières de la Lézarde, one of only 2 microbreweries to have settled on the island(Lékouz being the other, run out of the same location as Papa Rouyo). They have a fantastic multi-level back patio, where we can overlook the river and surrounding jungle, all while enjoying a refreshing beer. There are sadly no tasting flights, so Mario orders the white beer, while I try the Gwozey Peyi beer, made with a local hibiscus flower that tastes of currants, which gives it a nice fruity taste and not too much bitterness from the hops - I think they base it on their white beer. We shared a smoked fish tasting platter, taking slices from a log of smoked tuna, and smearing delicious Marlin rillettes onto sliced of baguette. I also tried the sodas brewed onsite, but they were nothing out of the ordinary - the beers were definitely the hit of our lunch stop.

The rest of the day was spend at Plage des Amandiers, a beach we know well, and enjoy, because of its placement in a quiet bay, and the fact that it is relatively unknown to anyone but locals. We spend the last couple of hour of daylight lying of the soft sand there, and floating in the calm waters. At least we know what to expect at Amandiers.