A Fuming Cauldron Behind a Green Veil

By WAYNE CURTIS Published: April 07, 2002

SLOUCHED in wicker chairs on the porch of Roxy's Mountain Lodge, high in the lush green hills of Dominica, we could see the Caribbean shimmering beguilingly in the distance, several miles away and 1,800 feet below. This is how I like my tropical ocean -- as a scenic and distant backdrop. The beach as a leisure concept has long baffled me, and I should admit right here that the appeal of sitting on gritty seashell fragments while courting a melanoma continues to elude me. In part this is why I felt instantly at home on Dominica, which is not to be confused with the larger and sandier Dominican Republic. This 30-mile-long island between Guadeloupe and Martinique has a smattering of dark volcanic beaches tucked amid palms, but for the most part it's ringed by picturesquely rocky coastline, and is noted more for soaring, cloud-capped mountains than tented cabanas. Since sugar-sand beaches are the engine of economic development for much of the Caribbean, Dominica has remained more or less a quiet backwater -- no high-rise resorts, no golf courses, no fivestar restaurants. Most visitors stay in unfussy guest houses or lodges, and prices are moderate.Our entirely adequate room at Roxy's was $50 a night last November, and that was the high-season rate. The larger and more expensive rooms at the lodge are $85, and filling multicourse creole meals can be had for less than $20 a person. What Dominica lacks in beaches and fancy resorts it makes up for in hiking trails through rugged terrain. Dominica has four peaks topping 4,000 feet, and much of the mountainous island interior is blanketed with rain forest at lower levels and scrubby woods called elfin forest on the higher elevations. The ofttold story is that Columbus, trying to explain the island to Ferdinand and Isabella, crumpled a piece of paper and threw it onto the table, exclaiming that was Dominica. This tale always struck me as fanciful and implausible, right up until the moment I laid eyes on the island. My fiance, Louise, selected the village of Laudat after some cursory Internet research. Laudat (population 300) turned out to be little more than a wide spot in the road with a basketball hoop, but it was near Morne Trois Pitons National Park, in the heart of the island's best hiking, and served us well as a base for a series of day trips. Roxy's is the sole major tourism enterprise in town. It's a gabled building with a tiled porch, a highceilinged dining room, a dim cocktail lounge and 11 guest rooms, which are divided between the main lodge and a newer structure to the rear. Our room was small and austere. We had no air-conditioning or fan, but the high elevation kept the temperature in check during the day, and evenings were almost cool. (We were advised to bring sweaters but never wore them.) Anyway, we spent little time in our room, since the lodge and the grounds were nicely arrayed for reading in the shade, socializing with other guests and theorizing about

the omnipresent neighborhood dogs, which had curiously large ears and lent Roxy's the raffish charm of a George Booth cartoon. We found two drawbacks: no window screens meant that a single mosquito would invariably find its way in while we slept and cause small torment. And while the four-mile ascent to the village from the capital, Roseau, is paved, it's also frightfully narrow and fraught with blind hairpin turns, plunging dropoffs, and guardrails that appeared to be chiefly decorative. The drive was made all the more interesting - for me and for oncoming drivers -- by the requirement that we keep our rented Suzuki S.U.V. on the left side of the road, British-style. Roxy's doesn't have a pool, but it does have Titou Gorge, which is about 20 minutes' walk along an intriguing network of canals and pipes connecting to both new and disused hydroelectric works. The island's towering hills serve as a strainer for moist Caribbean air, and there's an abundance of clear, tumbling rivers, another trait that sets Dominica apart from the generally lower and more arid islands of the Caribbean. The gorge is a tiny flooded cleft -- just several feet wide and 200 feet deep -- at the base of a forested hill. We swam into it against a steady current, paddling through a sinuous, narrow canyon that ended at a low and lovely cascade. About 40 feet overhead was a narrow slit overarched with ferns and thick foliage. The effect was magical, like swimming beneath a tall skylight of jade. One of our day trips was to Middleham Falls, at almost 200 feet one of the island's tallest. The trek is about three or four hours round trip, and departs from a trail head with a parking area between Laudat and Roseau. The forest here, as in much of the island's interior, is stunningly lush, and even midday can seem like twilight. Chtaigner trees towered above us with wattle-like buttresses and weathered gray bark like an elephant's skin, and birdlike heliconia flowers offered up an occasional splash of sunny color amid the unremitting green. We were a long way from November in New England. The final approach is down a steep ravine, and we heard the falls well before we saw them. A robust stream vaults the lip of a towering hill, then free falls for dozens of feet before crashing into the escarpment below. There's an inviting pool at the base, but the water is chilly and it's best to plunge in while still sweaty from the hike. The gusty, wet winds generated by the falls, we discovered, quickly lead to second thoughts. Throughout Dominica we were approached by friendly folks asking if we needed a guide. We usually didn't, since most trails were well marked and not terribly treacherous. But the route to Boiling Lake -which many guidebooks say is one of the longest and most unusual hikes in the eastern Caribbean -- was entirely another matter. Given the distance and the unfortunate consequences of a misstep, a guide seemed a good idea, and we arranged for one through Roxy's. Early the next morning, Aaron Rolle picked us up at the inn's porch and we set off while the village was quiet and the sun still cast long shadows. The hike is not for the unfit, a category with which we have a passing familiarity. Guidebooks and locals will often tell you that the round trip takes about six hours,

but this figure apparently applies to Olympians and StairMaster addicts. It took us a bit more than eight hours, as it did for two other groups at the lodge who ventured out on other days. But what a hike. It's part fantastical Jules Verne, and part biblical John Bunyan. Alas, our Bunyanesque journey ended not at an ambrosial paradise where we gorged on ripe mangoes, but -- rather more memorably -- at a place where we inhaled sulfurous fumes and skirted vats of boiling mud. The hike is notable for a number of reasons, the least of which is utter lack of level terrain. If we weren't climbing steeply, we were descending steeply. In the first valley we crossed a cool stream, from which we refilled our water bottle -- risking giardia, but we were assured the water was safe throughout the island. After scrabbling up the next ridgeline, we beheld sweeping views of endless hills and sea, and peered into a valley that appeared to attract odd tufts of errant clouds. This turned out to be the Valley of Desolation, into which we descended on a muddy and steep trail. In the thermally hyperactive valley, we picked our way past boiling streams, crusty craters coughing up mud that looked like pancake batter, and numerous fumaroles the size of small anthills that hissed noisily and emitted jets of rank steam. As we walked, our minds migrated to thoughts of human fondue, of plunging through a thin crust of earth into scalding mud. Mr. Rolle assured us that this really doesn't happen very often. We descended through the valley, crossed a handsome, milky-blue stream that was about 90 degrees, then made a final push up and over a barren hillside. In short order, we found ourselves on a broad ledge about 40 feet over Boiling Lake. Attractions with melodramatic names often disappoint, but this one did not. The lake, flanked by crumbling cliffs, merely simmers on some days, but we caught it in a particularly bilious mood. It's a bit more than 200 feet across, and was filled with bluish-grey water that surged with vast, menacing boils and spewed sinister clouds of sulfurous steam. It was quite a sight, and we ate our picnic lunch while prodding Mr. Rolle to tell us stories of people who'd fallen in. A dark cloud hung over our heads, however, while enjoying the improbable sight: the fact that only one way out exists, and that's the way we came in. At one point Mr. Rolle seemed to take a great interest in his watch, and we rose and set off. While a short soak in the preternaturally warm stream temporarily assuaged aching muscles, it did little to address the lamentable fact that two major ridges still stood between us and the tart rum punches served at Roxy's. We made several important discoveries on the long hike back. First, our 40's have not been kind to us. Second, our guide was not only well informed but also had a tremendous patience for those with flagging vigor. He was quick to lend Louise a hand over the bouldery trails and was solicitous when I ended up on my back in the mud. The next day we made a third significant discovery: it's wise not to plan anything for the day after a trip to Boiling Lake. Surveying the porch from our chairs was about all we could muster, although we

periodically summoned the energy to lift a book or gaze absently toward the horizon, where the bluegreen Caribbean glinted beautifully in the distance. Just how I like it. An ocean view, from way up high Visitor Information Dominica has a tourism office at 800 Second Avenue, Suite 1802, New York, N.Y. 10017; (212) 949-1711. The official Web site is at www.dominica.dm; the helpful ''Virtual Dominica'' is at www.delphis.dm. Getting There There are no direct flights to Dominica from the United States. American Eagle, (800) 433-7300, www.aa.com, offers connecting flights from Puerto Rico. LIAT, (800) 468-0482, www.liat.com, offers flights from several other Caribbean islands. Where to Stay Roxy's Mountain Lodge, Post Office Box 265, Laudat, Dominica, roxysmountainlodge@gmail.com telephone and fax (767) 448-4845, http://www.roxysmountainlodge.com has simple double rooms for $50 and larger rooms (some with kitchenettes) for $85; 15 percent tax and service charge is extra. Simple but tasty creole-style meals are served in the dining room and include chicken, fish, goat and ''mountain chicken'' (frog's legs). Papillote Wilderness Retreat is another rustic option, near Trafalgar Falls below the village of Laudat, Post Office Box 2287, Roseau, Dominica; (767) 448-2287; fax (767) 448-2285. It has seven rooms, one of the island's best restaurants and is set amid an elaborate hillside garden with hot springs for soaking. Doubles, $95 to $115 plus tax. Hikes Visitors to Dominica's parks, including Middleham Falls and Boiling Lake, must buy an access pass. A single-visit pass is $2; a pass good for one week at all island parks is $10. Guides for hikes are easily arranged through most lodges in Dominica. A guide for this full-day hike costs between $40 and $60 for two.

WAYNE CURTIS New York Times writer First published: April 07, 2002