What makes some people more accident prone than others?
I only ask after ending up face down on a pathway within the grounds of The Black Country Museum today. It was a normal day, sunny - no rain nor slippy surfaces and I was wearing sensible shoes (Easytone Reebok trainers, actually). We were happily strolling along when suddenly WHAM, ankle is twisted and I hit the deck harder and faster than Mr Bean in a fight against Muhammed Ali. I am now sat here with a poorly ankle, bruised and aching leg and some original Black Country coal stuck in the palm of my hand.
Yesterday I was working the kennels and hutches in our warehouse at work. Often I would end up buried under a pile of hutches as they fell over, or strain my back trying to move a 4 foot wooden viv. On holiday I fell off a horse and was nearly dragged along by the neck as the horse tried to bolt. On another holiday I was in a plane crash before we even left the ground, I have taken the top of my finger off with secateurs, sliced my hand open playing with one of my brother's flick knives (when they were legal), cut another finger open while messing around with washing on a washing line and stood on an electrical plug so hard that it pierced my foot with two of its prongs. I have also been electrocuted twice. Once when trying to get crumpets out of a toaster with a fork, and the other when cleaning out the fish tank. I have flipped cars, spun 180 degrees in roadworks and skidded and spun on diesel on one of the busiest roundabouts on the A14. I have broken both collar bones - one in a piggyback race and one on a skiing holiday - though I wasn't on the slopes, I was in the boot room. I have broken 3 fingers in 1 game of hockey, chipped a tooth in a cinema and crushed 2 toes in a Drama class.
My parents have always been honest with me, told me from a fairly young age that I wasn't a planned baby, and that's sort of nice to know. I feel, however, that being an accident at conception kinda sets you up for life!
Saturday, 2 April 2011
Friday, 4 February 2011
Spectacular Samana, and a while with the whales.
It was the whole reason for travelling to the Dominican Republic. Having done some reasearch at home I'd read about the trek up to the El Limon waterfall, the lush green vegetation, the jasmine pefumed air and of course the chance to spot some Humpback whales. Yet, despite my homework I was not prepared for what turned out to be one of the most fantastic days I've ever spent on holiday.
The bus collected us from the hotel at 6.30am and we headed off to the airport. We paid more, obviously, for travelling by air - but the other option was 5 hours on a bus each way, no waterfall and a much more rushed experience while in Samana, and Samana is not a place to be hurried. We boarded the small propellered islander and flew over the east coast, admiring the crystal clear blue water and white sandy beaches. 35 minutes later we landed on a palm fringed runway and welcomed with a rum and coke and the friendly, smiling faces of our guides for the day. After the introductions we climbed aboard the Caribbean bus to the rhythmical Merengue beat and set off into the mountainous countryside. Our guide was both informative and entertaining without sounding rehearsed while we drove through ramshackle villages. The locals would shout and wave at us, some even attempting high fives as we passed by. Our first short stop was a local's home, where he and his family would sit and make cigars all day, probably smoking half of what they made during the process while sipping on Mamajuana - a Dominican speciality containing rum, honey and some sort of tree bark (I can't remember which tree, but once you've had a few I doubt anyone can!). A friendly little barter later and we were off again, this time with a few cigars in tow and a Mamajuana warming our insides as the sun warmed us on the outside.
The next stop was at El Limon falls. To get to the waterfall you trek on horseback through tropical forest for half an hour, passing through streams and ducking below low hanging branches on your way. Each horse comes with its owner and guide to help you with any questions, run off to get samples of the plants,explaining what they are, and will take any photo you want - although they are not natural David Baileys to be fair. The track the horses follow are muddy and very rocky, and my guide became invaluable to me. My horse misfooted and slipped, collapsing as her legs crumpled beneath her. I went from being 9 foot high, to down on the ground in a split second. Thankfully I managed to slip out of the stirrups and get off the saddle in time, but was on the wrong side of the horse as she rolled around trying to get up. My bag had also hooked over the pummel on the saddle, leaving me attached to an animal that was only interested in getting up and bolting. Thanks to my guide, he managed to settle the horse and settle me - making sure we were both ok before helping me get back in the saddle. Now, don't get me wrong, despite this little mishap I thoroughly enjoyed the trek, albeit a little more tentatively, and would absolutely recommend it to anyone. As you approach the falls you dismount and finish the trek on foot. There is a rather steep section of rocky, slippery steps and again the guides are there to help you every steep step on the way down, and, thankfully, back up again. The waterfall itself is beautiful, with a big natural,deep pool that you can have a swim in. I left this to Karl, as unwittingly I had not taken a swimsuit. According to my water baby the water was bath warm, and if you swam under the falls you found yourself in untouched caves. A short while later we were back on the horses and making our way back while enjoying the refreshing tropical rainstorm that lasted about 5 minutes. The rain did not dampen our spirits, it merely enhanced the myriad of colours around us and gave a fresh scent to the air.
After a quick and lovely lunch on a secluded beach we set off to find the whales. Gently riding the waves the guide once again enthralled us all with his childhood memories of whale watching while fishing with his father, indulged us with as much information and history we wanted about the area and migration, taught us what to look out for - a plume of water erupting from the sea like a volcano - and told us how Samana protects the whales and waters in the area. Suddenly there's a shout 'Over there!' (more accurately 'la-bas!' as most others on the trip were French) and its life jackets on and full steam ahead. Bouncing and crashing as we sped along, getting soaked by the spray and the wind whipping my hair into some kind of frenzied bouffant the excitement was building faster than our acceleration. As we approached the whales the speed was cut and we drifted along with the whales swimming alongside. We were lucky as we had spotted a family of 3. Mum, dad and a 2 week old baby. Mum kept pushing the baby out of the water, teaching him to breach and all of them were playing, amazing us with body slams, tail splashes and rolls on the surface - almost as if they were waving to us with their enormous flippers. We stayed with them for an hour before heading back. A full 60 minutes of hushed awe and spontaneous smiles - and yes, maybe even a little bit of teary eyed-ness. Karl was perched on the side of the boat - camera poised and clicking away - but I was stood at the back, camera in hand but not being used as I wanted to absorb the moment, fix the images firmly into my memory rather than the computer. It was with hope and a heavy heart as we turned the boat round to head back to shore. Hope for this new family and the trials they face throughout their lives, and the heavy heart knowing what they may have to go through, and of course the fact that I was now leaving and wouldn't see them again.
The last part of our journey was a chance to relax on the island where all the Bacardi adverts are filmed. I could have been sat in the same chair as George Clooney on the beach! We stayed in the shade and enjoyed a coke for me and a Coco Loco for him. With some help from our amazing guide I managed to purchase the perfect picture from a local artist to remind me of this day and of the holiday as a whole. The day was over and we made our way through the bustling streets of the town and took our flight home. The bus journey from the airport to the hotel was quiet, with everyone reflecting on their day. The sky was a rich, brilliant orange as the sun set, silhouetting the palms against it and on the radio Snow Patrol's Chasing Cars was playing - a song I had never much liked before, but now I found myself gently singing along and whenever I hear it now it will take me back to Samana and remind me of the honour I had to spend time with the magnificent whales.
The bus collected us from the hotel at 6.30am and we headed off to the airport. We paid more, obviously, for travelling by air - but the other option was 5 hours on a bus each way, no waterfall and a much more rushed experience while in Samana, and Samana is not a place to be hurried. We boarded the small propellered islander and flew over the east coast, admiring the crystal clear blue water and white sandy beaches. 35 minutes later we landed on a palm fringed runway and welcomed with a rum and coke and the friendly, smiling faces of our guides for the day. After the introductions we climbed aboard the Caribbean bus to the rhythmical Merengue beat and set off into the mountainous countryside. Our guide was both informative and entertaining without sounding rehearsed while we drove through ramshackle villages. The locals would shout and wave at us, some even attempting high fives as we passed by. Our first short stop was a local's home, where he and his family would sit and make cigars all day, probably smoking half of what they made during the process while sipping on Mamajuana - a Dominican speciality containing rum, honey and some sort of tree bark (I can't remember which tree, but once you've had a few I doubt anyone can!). A friendly little barter later and we were off again, this time with a few cigars in tow and a Mamajuana warming our insides as the sun warmed us on the outside.
The next stop was at El Limon falls. To get to the waterfall you trek on horseback through tropical forest for half an hour, passing through streams and ducking below low hanging branches on your way. Each horse comes with its owner and guide to help you with any questions, run off to get samples of the plants,explaining what they are, and will take any photo you want - although they are not natural David Baileys to be fair. The track the horses follow are muddy and very rocky, and my guide became invaluable to me. My horse misfooted and slipped, collapsing as her legs crumpled beneath her. I went from being 9 foot high, to down on the ground in a split second. Thankfully I managed to slip out of the stirrups and get off the saddle in time, but was on the wrong side of the horse as she rolled around trying to get up. My bag had also hooked over the pummel on the saddle, leaving me attached to an animal that was only interested in getting up and bolting. Thanks to my guide, he managed to settle the horse and settle me - making sure we were both ok before helping me get back in the saddle. Now, don't get me wrong, despite this little mishap I thoroughly enjoyed the trek, albeit a little more tentatively, and would absolutely recommend it to anyone. As you approach the falls you dismount and finish the trek on foot. There is a rather steep section of rocky, slippery steps and again the guides are there to help you every steep step on the way down, and, thankfully, back up again. The waterfall itself is beautiful, with a big natural,deep pool that you can have a swim in. I left this to Karl, as unwittingly I had not taken a swimsuit. According to my water baby the water was bath warm, and if you swam under the falls you found yourself in untouched caves. A short while later we were back on the horses and making our way back while enjoying the refreshing tropical rainstorm that lasted about 5 minutes. The rain did not dampen our spirits, it merely enhanced the myriad of colours around us and gave a fresh scent to the air.
After a quick and lovely lunch on a secluded beach we set off to find the whales. Gently riding the waves the guide once again enthralled us all with his childhood memories of whale watching while fishing with his father, indulged us with as much information and history we wanted about the area and migration, taught us what to look out for - a plume of water erupting from the sea like a volcano - and told us how Samana protects the whales and waters in the area. Suddenly there's a shout 'Over there!' (more accurately 'la-bas!' as most others on the trip were French) and its life jackets on and full steam ahead. Bouncing and crashing as we sped along, getting soaked by the spray and the wind whipping my hair into some kind of frenzied bouffant the excitement was building faster than our acceleration. As we approached the whales the speed was cut and we drifted along with the whales swimming alongside. We were lucky as we had spotted a family of 3. Mum, dad and a 2 week old baby. Mum kept pushing the baby out of the water, teaching him to breach and all of them were playing, amazing us with body slams, tail splashes and rolls on the surface - almost as if they were waving to us with their enormous flippers. We stayed with them for an hour before heading back. A full 60 minutes of hushed awe and spontaneous smiles - and yes, maybe even a little bit of teary eyed-ness. Karl was perched on the side of the boat - camera poised and clicking away - but I was stood at the back, camera in hand but not being used as I wanted to absorb the moment, fix the images firmly into my memory rather than the computer. It was with hope and a heavy heart as we turned the boat round to head back to shore. Hope for this new family and the trials they face throughout their lives, and the heavy heart knowing what they may have to go through, and of course the fact that I was now leaving and wouldn't see them again.
The last part of our journey was a chance to relax on the island where all the Bacardi adverts are filmed. I could have been sat in the same chair as George Clooney on the beach! We stayed in the shade and enjoyed a coke for me and a Coco Loco for him. With some help from our amazing guide I managed to purchase the perfect picture from a local artist to remind me of this day and of the holiday as a whole. The day was over and we made our way through the bustling streets of the town and took our flight home. The bus journey from the airport to the hotel was quiet, with everyone reflecting on their day. The sky was a rich, brilliant orange as the sun set, silhouetting the palms against it and on the radio Snow Patrol's Chasing Cars was playing - a song I had never much liked before, but now I found myself gently singing along and whenever I hear it now it will take me back to Samana and remind me of the honour I had to spend time with the magnificent whales.
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