The Long Walk

Sometimes I wonder why we must put people in boxes. We all do it. We see a homeless man or woman on the street and turn our heads. We see a group of minority men and become cautious. We see a well dressed man and see success. It’s no different in Saint Lucia. It’s human Nature. Here, many see a poor man, a Rastafarian farmer, and people become distrustful. This was the case two weeks ago when we walked across the island.

I have a lot of stories to tell, but none like this one. I can only tell the partial story because some of it is far too personal. We made a lot of mistakes that day, but in the end, the mistakes we made were worth the new friendship and bond we gained.

My sister and niece, Janyn and Tracy were visiting and we decided to walk across the island. I read that there is a well-marked path and I do love the rain forest. Elaine decided to come along. One thing led to another and our first mistake was getting a late start . . . 10:30 a.m.

Later I was told people start at dawn for this hike. Why didn’t we have a sense of urgency? I have no idea what I was thinking. We started out from my village. Most people take a ride up the six mile road, but I thought this would be cheating…clearly our second mistake.

We stopped at the village market for water. I bought a big bottle as did Janyn and Tracy. Elaine decided two small bottles would be enough. Really? This is the warmest time of the year and we are venturing out across the island with less than a gallon of water. Our third mistake of the day…not enough water.

We walked across the village and crossed the highway to the six mile stretch that leads to the path. It’s a beautiful walk and many villagers have country farms along the way.


We reached LaTille Falls about two miles into the walk and a friend from the village spotted us. I spoke with her for a few minutes and she warned us about going without a guide.


She said four women should not be alone. She pointed to a Rasta man who was walking up the road and said, “You must be careful of people like him”. One thing you should know about me is that I’m independent. The same is true for Janyn, Tracy and Elaine. None of us needs a man to take care of us. I told her not to worry and we were on our way. It turns out she was right. This was our first warning. We did need a guide and sometimes we do need men to take care of us. You must know I choke while writing those words.

As we walked up the road, we approached that Rasta man. He was throwing a mango at the tree in order to make others fall. I said, “that’s clever”. He asked where we were going and I explained our intended hike. He said, “I’d like to go with you but I have other things to do”. Then minutes later he asked if he could accompany us. I conferred with the others and everyone agreed that he could come along. He told us that God put him in this exact place so that he could accompany us on our walk. His name is Julian.













We approached the “Country Club” which is a small building in the middle of nowhere. I was amused at the name until I stopped to think about it. The 'club' IS in the country, open to all who pass. They play dominoes and sing Kareoke. There are no dress codes or extravagant entrance dues. Our country clubs are in the city and most are opulent and have tennis courts and golf courses.

I once went to the Los Angeles Country Club and had to wear a dress to ensure my entrance. Luckily, I was with a man, otherwise I would have had to enter through the side entrance. Women were not allowed through the front door...nor were they permitted membership. I think I like the Saint Lucia Country Club better.

Janyn and Julian played a couple of games of Dominoes while we drank our cool beverages. By now it was noon. What were we thinking? A game of Dominoes in mid-day before walking across the island? The forth mistake…wasting time.

Once again we set out for our trek across the forest. It was about 1:30 p.m. when we approached the dirt path through the forest. A man driving a car stopped. He and Julian spoke; they were friends. He got out of his car and gave us handfuls of fruits to take with us. He said we were getting a late start; our second warning. Later, when we were running low on water, we found the fruit refreshing.

The reported well-marked path was indeed marked. At least we did see this sign. The problem was that we couldn't figure it out! And, it was the only one we saw.

We entered the forest and marveled at the beauty. We listened to the sounds…sounds that can only be heard in a rain forest. We heard the calls of birds including those of parots, the Saint Lucia National Bird. The smells were equally tantalizing.


We had made four critical mistakes and ignored two warnings by the time we had walked three hours to reach the entrance of our hike. There were a myriad of other unspoken problems encountered along the way that should have caught our attention and one that should have turned us back.

The last warning sign was sounded by crickets and tree frogs...sounds only heard as the sun goes down and the skies are blackened. My glasses began to fog as the forest humidity raised and I hung them on my shirt as we continued to move in the darkness. We had three cell phones which illuminated our path.

In the darkness of the night, Julian stopped. He said, "do you hear that?" We did. It sounded like bass; maybe drums, definitely music. That was a good moment. We didn’t walk out of the forest until 10:30 that night, a full eleven hours from the beginning of our journey.

At one point, I was ready to make camp in the forest, but at Julian's insistance we kept moving. It turns out that because I bumped into that friend by LaTille Falls, the village knew what we had done and there were people looking for us. Oh dear. How did I get to be this old and this stupid?

As I said at the top of the story, there are secrets that we left in the forest and remain between the five of us. In the end Janyn, Tracy, Elaine and I all agreed that Julian was right: God sent him to us. He protected us. He kept us going. He is our dear and wonderful friend.

And, by the way, if anyone happens to take this walk and comes across an aqua pair of blended-transition-designer glasses, they are mine.