Anse Major (Or: The hike that nearly killed me)

So I don’t fancy myself to be overly fit. I am one of six siblings. Five athletes, and me, the yearbook editor. I do try to stay in reasonable shape. I ran the Bluenose 10k in May at a respectable but by no means fast time. And pretty much any vacation D and I take involves a hike of some kind.

With our hike to the summit killed by rain at the peaks, we undertook a different walk. At the end of the Beau Vallon beach road (about 2km away) begins a “footpath” up, along, and down the mountain, a total of 2.4 km, to a lovely little each called Anse Major. We decided to go.

A little over 4k in. A nice break and lunch and a swim. Then back out. sounded easy enough. Or so I thought.

I was completely unprepared for the effect the heat would have on my stamina. I was tired before we even got to the so-called footpath. Then the real fun began.

And Anse Major was beautiful. After a relaxing soak in the warm Indian Ocean and a much needed lunch*, I was even willing to admit it might have been worth the walk. Might.

Up and over the mountain on a series of stone pathways which occasionally gave way to forest walks or wound through caves. It was pathetic. I felt like the stereotypical lazy, overweight, out of shape Western tourist. I was a panting sweaty mess. But if 10k training gave me anything, it was endurance. I kept going.

*Note: Peanut butter and pineapple jam sandwiches are my new favourite thing.