Dominica's UNESCO World Heritage Site, the Boiling Lake, is a two-hour hike through cold, wet jungle, over wind blasted hills and thought the aptly named Valley of Desolation. It was to be one of the highlights of our trip, and the main reason for going to Dominica.
The night before our hike was spent stranded on another totally unfamiliar island, Antigua, thanks to the lies and general incompetence of inter-island airline Liat. After a night of international phone calls, paper thin walls and sleeping on the bathroom floor, our Dominican hosts graciously managed to collect us from the airport and get up to our jungle-bound convoy by 7 am. They even managed to recover my lost baggage while we were on the trail (I can't say enough about Jungle Bay). The experience was wild, other-worldly and completely worth all the trouble.
We entered Morne Trois Pitons National Park from a site called Titou Gorge and began our trek through the rain forest. We experienced a bit of rain and a whole lot of moist, dark muddiness, but it was relatively clear when we crossed Breakfast River, above.
However, the wind, rain, and fog picked up at higher elevations, severely limiting our visibility.
These photos were taked on the trail above the Valley of Desolation.
See the video at bottom for a sense of how strong the winds were here.
Incredible mountain view--a last flash of green before we enter the sulfur valley.
Clouds follow us down a slippery slope...
...into a hellscape of steaming, foul smelling vents.
But the warm steam is a welcome change from the frosty wind above the valley.
We search among the vibrant rocks for the source of all these fumes.
Sulfur hydroxide bubbles, leaks, and spews from the floor.
It's superheated, so we have to watch our step.
But it's not harmful.
We even indulge in a little face-painting.
It's a ghostly, picturesque land. Sulfur and other volcanic minerals discolor rocks, streams, plants--everything in their paths.
Through the valley and back into the jungle. Another river.
After much terrain too dark for pictures, we arrive at hilltop again. Above, the Valley of Desolation from viewed from afar through lush green.
And more evidence of volcanic activity along the trail.
Finally, after steep rock climbs, the lake itself.
A sunken, steaming cauldron viewed in glimpses though the mist.
We eat lunch huddled in the warm steam, among the mud shrines of previous visitors.
And are glad to have done it together.
Half way between Soufriere and the southern city of Vieux Fort is Balenbouche Estate. This collection of very old plantation and farm land owned and run by Uta Laweatz and her family. When we arrived Uta and her daughters were gardening around the estate house and a band of St Lucian school children were picnicking with their teachers on the grounds.
Uta maintains the estate grounds, manages the guesthouses, gives tours, and prepares meals for visitors. You can read more about the estate and the Lawaetzs here; their devotion to the property and the island is really quite remarkable. The house is like a museum and the lawns are beautiful. I am sure these ladies are always working.
Front siting room of the estate house.
The house has a wraparound porch; meals are served on the side porch.
The old barn behind the house.
St Lucian kids mugging for the camera. Long ago, their ancestors were brought to this island to work these plantations. Now they play in the ruins.
Hammock hanging from a Banyan tree.
Strangler vine crawling up the tree.
We took a path through the jungle to get to the beach.
Which was quite exciting. The path lead past the ruins of a sugar mill.
It was lined with bamboo and sprouted coconuts.
They told us that under the right conditions, you can see the remains of a shipwreck out at sea from here. 
We couldn't see it but still enjoyed the ocean.
Then we came back to explore the mill.
Which was amazing. No handrails, no guardrails, no hurried guides or people selling trinkets. No keep off signs. Not even any other people.
Just us and some history, and lots and lots of growing things.
It was pretty special.
