I admit, the words “jungle biking” initially conjured an image of me face-planting into a coconut tree. While there are trails of varying degrees of difficulty through the tropical rainforest at Anse Mamin plantation in Soufrière, I wimpishly signed up for the introductory spin of the grounds underneath its verdant canopy.
This former 18th-century French Colonial plantation is part of the gorgeous Anse Chastanet resort and accessed by a short boat ride from its beach. Once saddled up and pedalling through the exotic sights and sounds, far removed from the commercial world, exhilaration replaced fear. Midway, we stopped by picturesque stone steps, now leading nowhere, that are part of the plantation ruins. Here, slaves once laboured—an idea I’ll never get used to.
But, this is now a place of serenity. At the end of my group’s half-hour-long session, our guide produced a machete and, with one deft swipe left, topped coconuts and offered us an unforgettably delicious drink—a blissful kind of coconut face-planting. I felt utterly relaxed; intoxicated. Jungle biking, it turned out, is jungle bathing.
[This story appears in the December 2018 issue of WestJet Magazine]