By the day of our hike, Phil was getting pretty comfortable with the driving on the right. When we got back to Chicago, he asked me to drive home from the airport because he was afraid he would make an error.
The road leading up to the entry booth and visitor center of the park.
A slightly closer view of the visitor center.
Time for a breather.
The views were breathtaking.
Some of the trails had built-in steps to facilitate climbing.
These are mona monkeys. They did not seem at all frightened of us.
A pretty flower for a pretty girl. Don't worry, she didn't pick this but found it lying on the ground.
A few more views of the lake.
As we rested at the refreshment and gift shop, we could hear what I assume was a Grenadian (or Caribbean) children's choir singing Cesar Franck's "Panis Angelicus" on the local Catholic radio station (to which the ticket booth worker was listening). We took particular pleasure in this because my oldest son learned that piece and sang it on his voice recital last year. There was something almost ironic in hearing such a familiar piece of music so far from home. But even had the piece not had a special significance for us, we would still have been moved by the experience of sitting in the midst one of God's most gorgeous natural wonders listening to the voices of children sing about the Bread of Life . . . talk about experiencing a slice of heaven.
And then, tired from our climb, we got to go home to this*! (We timed that meal well, didn't we?)
*Correction to my Cecilia cooking post: she made plantains for us that day, not bluggoe. Hey, they all look like bananas to me, you know?