More Hilly Places

Well, I didn't think that I would stick to my "hilly places" theme in this post. However, upon my return Sunday from St. Kitts/Nevis, I feel that I have no choice but to do so. Both destinations do fall into that category.

Our first stop was St. Kitts, or St. Christopher, its official name. The first thing I noticed, even as the plane made its descent onto the tarmac, was the vast greenery of the island carpeting its many peaks and valleys. Our island tour later confirmed this. Like many Caribbean islands, it has a volcano (Mt. Liumuiga) but one that has been dormant for ages. (Likewise for Nevis.) I was not one of those brave souls who embarked on a volcano tour, as the buzz was not only does one have to be in tip-top shape to do it but also be fearless when it comes to negotiating steepness. Again, as I touched upon in my last blog post, I may love hills but climbing them isn't really my thing. (Also, I didn't relish the idea of perhaps accidentally slipping and turning my ankle, or something worse.) I captured an image of Mt. Liumuiga's majesty from the comfort of our tour van.

However, driving in the hills, as long as whoever is driving me can handle the twists and turns adeptly, is fine by me. Our island tour guide, Scotty, certainly was versed in that and so when we wound up the roads to Timothy Hill on the south end of the island, my jaw dropped at the beauty below me of the Caribbean Sea on one side, the Atlantic Ocean on the other. Of course, out came my trusted camera. Houses stretched across the shoreline's arc as the waves ebbed at the beach. At that point, Connecticut and the U.S. seemed a world away as I slowly sipped the view, to use a cliche, like one of the island's famed drinks.

Now I will get into the nitty gritty of hilly in the form of Brimstone Hill Fortress and Ottley's Plantation Inn. The former first. A stone fort that the British built in the late 17th and early 18th centuries to defend against the French and native Indian invaders, it is about 800 feet high. Climbing to the top via a ramp is a true test of one's physical mettle but I proudly made it, worth the view below of the Caribbean sea and surrounding islands. (Which, save for a glimpse of St. Eustatius, or Statia as the locals call it, it was too foggy to see out too far but I used my imagination to supplant that. Caught the image below, Statia's poking up in the background.) The fort has re-creations of rooms that soldiers stayed in and the illustrations of the work undertaken by the African slaves to guard and maintain it. I could only vaguely imagine the arduousness of it all, especially in the intense heat. How we take good old A/C and creature comforts such as plush mattresses for granted, myself included.

Ottley's is a world-famous, former sugar mill/plantation-turned-boutique hotel. You want hilly? Take a taxi ride to Ottley's and you'll be quite satisfied. Driving parallel to the Atlantic Ocean, you can see the island of St. Martin in the distance if it's clear, which it indeed was. Then, the climb. One lane each way, being in the back seat of what I can only describe as an ageless, stick shifted van driving on the left. (The island got its independence in 1983, but some Britishisms remain.) Our driver, named Bouncer, possessed quick reflexes with the steering wheel so I actually took a breath and relaxed as we wound up into the hills of St. Kitts. And wound, and then I saw the Ottley's sign. And wound a little more. We reached the resort's driveway, and I still couldn't see the actual plantation house until we made our way up to its restaurant, situated outside in the remains of an old sugar mill. Then, perched on top of a hill and lit brightly, there it was. It was also about 10 degrees cooler up there than down below, thanks to the altitude. Oh yes, dinner was quite worth it, especially the rum chocolate cheesecake. The pictures I took upon arrival came out a bit dark, so I am content with one of its signage. Even though this picture may not evoke hills, trust me, it is high up.

And Nevis. Quite smaller than its sister isle but still hilly. Our half day tour started at the Four Seasons resort and wound its way up to an abandoned sugar plantation-turned-luxury guesthouse, complete with honeymoon suite in the sugar mill. Looming over the island is Nevis Peak, its resident volcano that hasn't uttered a word since the dawn of time. Quite impressive and imposing to look at though.

I have a list of places I want to visit next, some hilly, some not. My next blog might well have a totally different theme, as it should to keep it interesting. However, one never knows ... could a Hilly Places Redux be in the cards? Only my choice of a next destination will tell. Till then, happy travels!

Hilly Places

This is my very first blog post so please bear with me. I have many things going on now in my life, and one that has just finished occupying my time is a travel writing course. I have learned many new and valuable skills from this class, one of which is writing this blog. It also has opened my eyes even wider to the world of travel. I have done my share, but I realize now not nearly enough.

I struggled to come up with an idea for this post, as I wanted it to relate to the wanderlust in some way. It hit upon me that for every place I have traveled, even though I have found beauty and something positive in each one, places that really have stayed with me have one thing in common: hills and views from above. Don’t get me wrong, flat is beautiful too; I am a New York City girl and frequent visitor to D.C., and except for the occasional high point here and there in those cities, they are for the most part flat. However, here are some cities that have particularly struck me.

One such place that fits said description that comes to mind is Edinburgh, Scotland, a city I have had the privilege of visiting twice (and, I may add, hope to have that privilege again soon.  It’s my wee bit of Scots blood spurring me on no doubt.) Imagine my complete surprise the first time I set foot in the city. The rocky, almost volanic landscape literally took my breath away . The majestic Edinburgh Castle, the fortification that has withstood battles and intrigue, still proudly stood high above the city. Of course, Scotland itself stands at the top of the list of my favorite countries, and it’s doubtful that will change. The landscape of the country itself is hills personified.



Buda, Hungary comes next. I visited Budapest in 2006, and one can’t help notice the difference between Buda and the city’s Pest section. Buda and Pest were two separate cities on either side of the Danube River until they were unified in 1873. What a topographical contrast. Pest, flat and “city-like,” and Buda, tucked up in the hills. We wound our way through those hills as houses peaked out before us, like hidden gems among the landscape. Perhaps its residents find the expansive view of the rest of the city, sprawled out with the flowing Danube and its bridges in the foreground, old hat. I would find it breathtaking, but again I don’t wake up to that view every day. It is here on Gellert Hill that one can stand in the shadow of Buda Castle and partake of the beautiful vista below.

I won’t focus solely on Europe in this post. I am also an ocean lover, and my three trips to the Caribbean (not counting my many trips to Bermuda, as it technically doesn’t fall in that area) certainly more than satisfied on that front. However, what stands out for me is the island of Tortola’s wonderfully rugged geography. Yes, hills and lots of them. Actually, my very first cruise brought me to this island in 2007. It’s was once owned by Britain, so driving is on the left side, a fact that literally gripped me as we wound our way up the craggy mountainside. I guess not being used to driving on the opposite side compounded the adrenaline rush I got from looking over the steep inclines to the vast blue ocean below. The jovial driver kept saying something to the effect of, just wait, when I stop you will get a spectacular view. Well, he didn’t disappoint. It certainly was that and more as I whipped out my camera to snap a shot before my fellow tourists, all equally enthusiastic as I, could get in the way.

I will conclude this post by saying that oddly, I am not a lover of heights. Ask me to climb the narrow stairs to the top of an English castle and I will get dizzy. However, when I am outdoors it is a different story. I could go on and on about this paradox, my admiration for the thunderously tall redwoods that grace Northern California’s Muir Woods and the high, windy roads driven to get there; the hills of Scotland and driving in the shadow of its highest peak, Ben Nevis. Perhaps I was some kind of a daredevil in another life, one who didn’t mind scaling high peaks. Well, Everest hasn’t called yet and while it would be the highest of the high, the view of all views to see, I think my nerves would get the best of me.