Nature's Little Prank

My thumb presses down on the key remote, the car lock clicks and gives two winks to let me know the job is done. But out of habit I attempt to open the silver door handle. Yep, it’s definitely locked I assure myself. My eyes divert away from the parked loan car and scans around to ensure everybody’s ahead and moving in the right direction. This new and unfamiliar place welcomes us with towering trees, a cooling breeze and a moss-covered toilet brick building. A few from the party take head into the worn brown coloured brick toilet block and swat away mosquitos in the short visit.

Standing on the edge of the grey gravelly carpark and the leafy light green forest, we're met with a forked pathway. With the whole family in tow, I don't take any chances and a quick check of the phone confirms the right fork is the right way to go. With both hands firmly on the pram handle with a baby Leon warmly strapped in, we head down the leafy and uneven descent.

The path feels well trekked with clear tracks and little natural obstacles. The occasional large overhanging tree does its best to give you a tickle on your way pass. Step by step further we go, the smell of rainforest begins to fill the nostrils and lungs. The noises of walking on compacted soil is replaced with the crumpling of built-up forest floor leaves. It’s a mini symphony of noises, made by nothing but our family’s collective of ten feet and four small pram wheels. Further as we go.

The path starts to narrow, and nature’s presence around us grows denser. It’s almost like it’s a reminder you are now in their home and you're seeing all the homely things laying about because nature didn't have time to tidy up. There's fallen trees, overlapping ferns, small shrubs as far as the eye can see and leaves of every colour.

In between the awe in the wash of nature’s green and brown palette, the serenity is punctuated and confettied with sudden shuffles and infectious laughter coming from Leon. Just like that, you’re transported back to home and suddenly this new place feels familiar. Without any words at all, you forget you’re deep in a forest and you just see your family and breathe in the joy of the moment.

The rhythm of walking, playing and soaking it all in came to a pause as we approached an enormous giant of a tree. It had only been about 10 minutes so far. Arriving much earlier than anticipated, we again checked our phones to see if this was indeed what we journeyed down this path for. Whilst results were loading thank to my cheap phone carrier, there appeared to be an exaggerated clearing around it was if to say…ta-da.. here it is.

The tree was like a giant, much bigger than any other tree in the forest and it had a large hollow. The hollow looked dark and had a small ditch built up with dry leaves. This is where you're meant to pose and take photos, well according to the various Google Map photo reviews. Naturally of course we took turns in the tree and took turns posing with baby Leon too.

The trek felt like it came to a premature end. Feeling a bit robbed of a fuller adventure, I started feeling impatient lingering around the tree taking photos. Not wanting to return back up the same mild path, I craved more and gestured the group to head deeper into the rainforest. Just a little further I thought to myself and eventually said out aloud.

Suddenly a nice group of the older grey-haired tourists trekked by back up the way we came. My guesstimate is that they were at least mid-sixty or seventy years old, and my brain quickly assessed for any visible signs of physical strain. None. All smiles, small talk and even words of encouragement that we could easily do it. I love chance encounters like this, and I took it as the perfect sign that we should do it. And that’s when it all started going downhill... literally and figuratively. *ba dum ching*

Further down we trekked, the terrain started to be less suited for a pram and required the regular lifting and mid-air floating over the natural obstacles and jagged rock steps. I don't think baby Leon really understood why he was regularly lifted over things. We arrived at what felt like the mid-way mark of the journey and was greeted by a cold stream of water decorated with a nice man-made bridge. Covered in a deep dark moss, we cautiously stepped onto the planks and navigated the L-shaped turn. Perfect spot for a family snap.

The bridge was indeed the lowest point. From here on out begins the ascent upwards. At this point there were still no issues, the walk to this point was only roughly an extra 15 minutes. So, in total 25 minutes. Simple, 25 minutes to get back to the car I thought. Easy.

Filled with confidence and stamina, we continued up through obstacles and odd bumps and grooves. The frequency of having to raise and hover the heavy pram over the terrain grew and grew. With my very able father up front and I in the rear, Leon was none the wiser and enjoyed making his way up.

I don't know at what point but suddenly everything felt amplified. The pram felt heavier, the sun shone down harder, the steepness increased, and obstacles felt shaper, bigger and more slippery. The feeling of regret starts to set in. I was the one with the bright idea to keep going. Although we started feeling tired and wanted it to end, we encountered a number of nature's surprises to keep us motivated and give us a bit of reprieve.

The sounds of water burbling ahead to hint at something special waiting. Indeed, we had hit a flat landing. A medium size waterfall was gushing and filling the air with cool droplets of water that speckled on your face as you got close. Curtains of large leaves giving us cool and much needed shade from the sun. This space was filled with awe and of course it invited the chance for more photos. These were all welcome little distractions to break the trudge back up hill.

With our days schedule ahead in mind, I got the family to wrap up our photos and made our final journey upwards. The even steeper and slippery slopes became the star protagonist to this adventure and the final boss before seeing our car again. With the mind starting to focus more on the end state, we pushed on through and blind corner after blind corner. I felt like the forest didn't want us to leave.

And just like that, the series of treacherous rocky steps turned back into that sloped path covered in leaves. My eyes could see the path transforming back to a compacted soil track. This was natures final farewell to us.

I would like to think that the rainforest that day was likely laughing and smiling upon us and tried it’s best to make us their guest as long as possible. By starting out with relaxed small talk, to showing us some great art pieces and really getting us involved. I wonder if those older trekkers were real people or if they were part of the prank that nature played on us.