That was easy!

The people I have met here have an endearing and irritating habit of declaring things "Easy," when in fact, they are very "Hard." At first you might find it charming when your friend who has invited you to a beach picnic brings a six course meal with wine, sees you ogling it, and says, "Oh really, it's nothing." But then you may start to find it irritating when you say, "Wow, Claude, I can't believe you brought a roast duck to the beach, what inclined you to do that?" and Claude's response is, "It was the easiest thing I could think of for the beach."

Well Claude, I can think of some easier things. Ever heard of a PB&J? How about a Lunchable?

Recently I was invited to my next door neighbor's house for drinks so I could meet their friend, Nadine, a choir director. At the very last minute, my host called to explain that Nadine was running behind schedule and could I please come over for a quick bite to eat later on? Sure, I said. I was truly not expecting the Christmas Dinner that awaited me on the other side of the fence. An exquisitely roasted leg of lamb, artichoke stew, a plate of fine cheeses. The dessert, an apple tart, was as much a work of art as a culinary masterpiece. It must have taken over an hour to arrange each paper-thin slice of apple into the birds-nest shape it assumed. When I asked for the recipe, my host refused to give it to me saying, "It's so easy, I'm embarrassed to tell you."

These examples about food can be equally applied to acts of physical fitness. A favorite Reunionais pastime is hiking, but if you're invited, you have to assume that it will be akin to trekking Everest. Every invitation goes something like this: "Hello! How do you feel about a quick hike this Saturday? It will be easy, maybe 2 or 3 hours." That is followed by two hours of death defying treacherous mountain passes, four hours of scaling vertical rock faces, two minutes of flat dirt path, and a final 3.5 hours of climbing down house-sized boulders.

As I approached a trail head with a friend last weekend, he asked me whether I was afraid of heights. First of all, when you've just driven two hours to a high mountain peak, can you decide that the hike is no longer of interest? Secondly, wanting to impress peers becomes a priority when you're surrounded by excellence. So I coughed a "no" and put one foot in front of the other. We were off. I will describe the trail by saying that it was constructed as if someone had taken a small pocket knife and etched a foot path along the side of a vertical cliff (see picture below). There was a cable along the length of the trail, which I grasped with an iron grip. But this was truly one of those instances where one false move, you're a goner, no little hand hold is going to save you. I made it, but I no longer have control of any bodily functions and my hair is shocked with gray. A small price to pay for showing ease and grace. On the plus side, I caught my friend in a moment of weakness back at the car when he shook his head and said, "That was steeper than I remembered!"


Long story short: allow yourself to be impressed here, but don't for a minute be fooled. Just like those pretty Olympic water ballerinas who seem to effortlessly kick dance through the pool, you know that they've worked their whole lives to present flawless aesthetics. This concept is a frequent encounter on Reunion Island!

Early morning hike: I brought you some coffee for your croissant! Do you take sugar?