Spoiled on Waterfalls: How to deal with travel blahs

I can't say I'm too excited about waterfalls anymore. I used to be, but maybe I've seen too many. Now they bore me. When I think about it, I wonder what the big deal is about falling oxygen and hydrogen molecules anyway.

When traveling, locals and fellow travelers alike try to let me "in" on some so-called secret waterfall. They say, "Oh, did you hear about that great waterfall?," or "There's this amazing waterfall at the end of the trail." They seem to think each and every waterfall is something special to behold.

But honestly, most waterfalls are pretty much the same to me. Yet my fellow travelers spend one, two, even weeks driving or hiking to get to them. Just to see water falling. Just to say, "Hey, look at that waterfall."

Most places have waterfalls (except, perhaps, the Sahara Desert). Waterfalls are not unique to any one country, culture or Hemisphere. Falling water. Not much else. Granted, Niagara Falls in New York is different than Angel Falls in Venezuela. And Hawaiian waterfalls have different vegetation growing around them than those in Switzerland. But mostly waterfalls are just water. Falling water.

So, here I was hiking in the jungle. A fellow traveler, Andrew, insisted upon hiking to (you guessed it) a waterfall. I agreed, thinking at least the three-hour hike along the jungle-lined beach would be interesting. Purple and orange crabs skittered from burrows in the forest across the sand to the ocean. Tide pools were mini-aquariums of marine treasures. But the point was not the walk, according to my companion. It was the waterfall. We didn't even know its name. This particular waterfall was plucked -- believe it or not -- from a waterfall book.

A whole book dedicated to falling water? Please.

Somehow I knew this waterfall would be the last waterfall in a long time that I would make an effort to see. We woke at 6 a.m. to catch the waterfall at the right time -- as if it were a dolphin that did tricks. According to the book, only once a day - early in the morning - can you REALLY see the waterfall. (What?, I thought.) Andrew explained: In high tide, the sea swirls in to the waterfall's base, shortening the waterfall and making swimming impossibly dangerous. So we had to go at prime time.

Once there, getting close involved slithering over slippery cliff rocks -- basically risking one's life and limb. I went first, to get it over with. Andrew followed close behind, copying my handholds. But what else, besides standing under the water's pounding force, was there to do? Oh yeah, swim and look at it some more.

Go To Page: 1 2

Articles in this Topic    Discussions in this Topic