Hidden Gems: Pamir Botanical Gardens

by Adrienne Wilson on

Upon arriving in Khorog I never really gave much thought to visit the Pamir Botanical Gardens. I had my mind on one place and that place was in Tajikistan’s Wakhan Corridor. As chance would have it though, I departed from the Wakhan a little early to ensure for a timely departure out of Khorog and into Dushanbe. With this new slightly unplanned time to kill in Khorog my guide, Teo and I decided to check out the gardens to see what all the Lonely Planet hype was about or not about. Now allow me to back track for a moment and describe what facts I know of the garden. The Pamir Botanical Gardens rest about 5km from the center of town and are known as the second highest gardens in the world at 3,900m. From the sign below we learn that the gardens sit on 624 hectares of arable land and house 2,300 plant varieties. Pretty impressive, but the further I went the more I began to find that the gardens were more than anything secret – they are a hidden gem in Tajikistan’s rough mountain terrain.

Follow me into the Pamir’s Botanical Garden. I promise you it will be worth your while.
Teo and I had arrived at the gardens by mini bus and to our advantage one of the employees of the gardens hoped off with us. The young fellow was on his way into work, but had the time to give us what ended up being about a two-hour tour. I couldn’t help pondering where he should have been and why things like this didn’t happen in America? If it had been America our friendly tour pal would have had to rush to some time clock, punch in and charge us a mint to provide any kind of details on the gardens. This alone made me smile even if I couldn’t get the full skinny from our new guide. In fact, my Tajik speaking guide, Teo couldn’t get all the details on much of what the young man described as he knew the plant and tree names only in Russian. Neither, Teo or I spoke Russian fluent enough to translate any of the plant terminology into English. It didn’t take away from our time spent in the gardens. There were many eye-catching sights along the way starting with a view of the city from the top.

From the gardens you can see all of Khorog and the Panj River, which snakes its way through the town. In regards to the senses it was a spectacular view to say the least, but the air quality was equally phenomenal. Cool, crisp and pure I breathed deeply hoping to take some back home with me. No such chance.

We proceeded through a row of colorful flowers. The purple ones seen here appeared to be some of the happiest looking ones, but the one with the visiting bee instantly became my favorite.

From the flowers we escaped to an area of trees. There were trees from every region of the world as told by our guide. The first ones we encountered were apple trees and a large variety of them from Asia. My guide plucked an apple off and suggested I use the opportunity to get fresh fruit right from the limb, but I was weary of the fruit. I passed on the offer. It felt forbidden even while Teo noshed on one apple followed by another. Taking photos was enough pleasure for me. After the various fruit trees we pushed further into the land. Many of the trees felt familiar as if I had once seen them in a park nearby my place back home. Others were strange. As Teo spoke in Tajik with our guide I wished and longed for more info. I wanted to know the names in English.

We continued walking snapping shots of trees, leaves and even some etchings or graffiti found on the trees. There was far more than we had anticipated.


Our guide had decided it would be a fine time to check out the seeds. Even this turned out to be fascinating. There were all sorts of plant seeds and what have you located in the room along the window sill. Most sat on old Russian newspaper dating as far back as 1985 which made for a visually pleasing backdrop while others were placed atop of plastic bags or in old shoebox lids. In short something about the room filled with seeds felt very cool. Teo and I were impressed yet again.


As we continued moving through our guide stopped us to point out these 13 trees. Back around 1948 sometime a man planted a tree for each one of the Soviet Republics. I can’t recall which two trees weren’t apart of the Republics during the time these were planted or if our guide even said so, but anyone out there can correct me if I’m wrong. In any case the trees like most found the gardens were a refreshing sight.

Not too far from the Soviet trees were these trees with crumbly looking bark. They looked like something I’d seen in America and go figure we had made it to the North American sector of the gardens! I was so taken with their appearance that I took multiple shots from various angles and my pal Teo did so as well.


As we found our way to the end of the gardens we discovered more amazing views of the surrounding mountains through the trees. There were so many colors and the weather couldn’t have felt better up in the world’s second highest botanical gardens. I could have stayed longer, but I was afraid the magic would quickly dissolve and disappear. I even debated writing this piece for I am afraid upon my next visit the gardens will have been invaded by my readers. Then again it is in Tajikistan – a far away land in Central Asia in which no one goes to or even gives much thought. Only a lucky handful will have heard the rustling of the leaves from the wind’s breeze or will have felt the rough peeling bark before it crumbled off and onto the ground. Oh, if photos could tell it all! Hear my whisper of advice when I say “GO” and head there in good speed. For the gardens are no longer a secret, but a gem they will always be.


Getting to Tajikistan can be difficult depending on your schedule and flight plan. I went from Tampa-JFK-Istanbul-Dushanbe, on Delta then Turkish Air (approx. $1,900 USD) which I highly suggest flying Turkish Air into the country rather than Tajik Air which has can be fickle at times. However, Tajik Air flies through Munich, Moscow and St. Petersburg to name a few international cities of interest. Check their website for flight times and departure cities. Once in Tajikistan you can either fly into Khorog ($60 USD) to start your Pamir journey or you can take the 15-18 hour drive from Dushanbe down ($30 USD). I went by flight down with Tajik Air and drove back up. The ride is bumpy, long and filled with terrifying close calls with the mountain edge. If you can stomach it or on a tight budget go for the drive.

When planning a trip down to the Pamirs more than money you’ll need time. You can get by on $30 USD for 10 days according to my guide if you have the time. Most of the cost goes towards transportation and accommodation is typically provided by a friendly stranger or two along your path. For more detailed information on visiting Pamirs I suggest heading to this Pamirs website first. They’ve got tons of background details, panorama photos of the region, as well as this page of links to help you in your travel planning. Lonely Planet has only a wee-bit of information, but you may find a nugget of useful information somewhere. The Great Game Travel Company has great information and can provide you with a guide as well. I’m told their schedules are pretty strict and it might be better to go with a local should you speak some Tajik or Russian.

Visit other Hidden Gems in Tajikistan by clicking here.

(All photos taken by Adrienne Wilson.)

Hidden Gems: Tajikistan’s Pamirs & Wakhan Corridor

by Adrienne Wilson on

Before I set off to Tajikistan I sought the council of anyone who had been there, been close, or at the very least could locate the country on a map without much difficulty. I’d heard Dushanbe; the capital city was a bit of a bore after a few days and it was best to plan on exploring other parts of the country, but where? After a few conversations from past travelers and native Tajiks the answer became quite obvious. “Go down to the Pamirs. You’ll hate yourself if you go all the way to Tajikistan and don’t make it to the Pamirs,” said a friend of a friend. The Pamirs are a mountainous area located in Gorno-Badakhshan with a reputation for having some of the world’s most inaccessible mountains, unparalleled beauty and a kindness so warm and inviting from the inhabitants that even the harshest winters seem not too bad.

For the sake of not hating myself, using the rest of my time in the country wisely, and going where few people ever venture I set off, down from Dushanbe and into the Pamirs. To start, I took a plane from Dushanbe into Khorog, a border town of Tajikistan and Afghanistan. It was suggested by my guide, Teo, to get out of Khorog as quickly as possible to maximize the short amount of time (4 days) I would have, as there was a still a large distance to cover and drive-time (provided there was a vehicle headed that way) would suck up a large portion. And with that we hit the road from Khorog and headed down to Ishkashim, also a border town. The drive, approximately two-hours on a bumpy mountain road, snakes its way along the Panj River which separates Tajikistan from Afghanistan. For the duration of the ride I stared to my right at Afghanistan in complete awe. The northern border which you could throw rocks at and easily hit the land at points was gorgeous, quiet, undisturbed and felt like one of the most peaceful places on the entire world. It was at this point I realized why a trip thru and down Tajikistan’s Pamirs is a Hidden Gem and I started snapping an incredibly absurd amount of pictures.

These were the homes across the river in Afghanistan. It was difficult to photograph much of Tajikistan during the drive into Ishkashim because we were driving along the mountainside. As anyone would might feel on this drive I was ignited and happy to be exploring what’s considered one of the world’s most dangerous countries even if it were by car and across the border.

There were numerous homes like this across the way, but I saved both my energy and my camera’s battery life for what I was told would truly blow me away and the closer we edged and winded our way into Ishkashim, the Pamirs and Tajikistan’s portion of the Wakhan Corridor, I was indeed blown away.
Thankfully, it wasn’t by these soldiers or their guns. Around these parts you need a special permit to travel which should be obtained in Dushanbe and there are many passport checkpoints along the way. These guys were sitting at a tiny desk with a notebook which they scrawled who knows what information off our passports and kindly had their picture taken with us. I think they bored or wanted to show off their guns, which were a bit frightening by the way, but nice guys.

As we continued down the road different views and secrets started to reveal themselves. Above is a shot of the Panj river dividing the two countries, Tajikistan and Afghanistan along with a view of the Hindu Kush found in Pakistan. Seeing the snow-capped mountains of the Hindu Kush was also impressive and I knew would continue to become more real as we inched closer along. At this point we weren’t far from Ishkashim, but considering it wasn’t our final stop for the evening we still had some distance to cover. Once we arrived my guide, Teo negotiated with a gentleman (I think he may have known from a previous trip) for a ride into Vrang, a village in the Wakhan. The driver agreed and told us he would get us to Vrang in good time as he had to turn right back for a wedding. Even speeding along he was nice enough to make stops at points of interest so we could take photos.

Above the hill there was a fort which was manned by two men from what I could tell and so I opted to take a shot of the road from which we’d driven. The sun was still high, but wouldn’t be for long. When we left the fort we later stopped at a shrine for which I haven’t the name and sincerely apologize. It was explained to my by my guide Teo that there is little written history on the Pamirs and their people, but the further you go and the more you speak with them you learn of all these fascinating and far out tales on deities, supernatural like things, the Aga Khan, and even the high-times when Communism was in place. It was hard separating what was true from what could possibly be considered false, but the Pamiris also known as Ismaili’s were quite serious with their stories and far-fetched sounding tales. Who was I to question their beliefs? Without knowledge of the language I could not tell you the exact words from any one man, woman or child I crossed paths with, but will recount to the best of my ability that of what my guide could translate to me.

Upon entering this shrine a local elderly gent appeared with and more than willingly told us the story of this place. My translator and guide followed as best he could, but even he got lost in the man’s tale. Whether it was the language (there are several different languages used throughout the Pamirs) or just odd points that he couldn’t piece together I’m not certain, but what I am certain is this: this shrine like most reflects the Prophet Muhammad and his family members including Fatima. Every Pamiri home and most structures or shrines have pillars or something to reflect the five pillars of Islam. This all gets confusing for me and requires extensive research, but allow me to continue with the few things this Tajik fellow managed to say.

For instance these ram’s horns are Muhammad and there was a time that when you blow on the horns the soldiers would come. We couldn’t understand whether the man was saying past or present, but it seemed really bizarre.

When we took off from the shrine we really took off. There were little scenic stops other my guide needing to deliver some photos to families from previous trips, but that was about it. We arrived at a home where we would be taken in by one of the nicest families on the planet. With a goodnight’s rest we planned to set off again in the morning. This time we would go up the mountain on a 2-3 hours hike.

On day two when we woke my guide managed to deliver all that he had promised including some really intense unexpected mountain hiking. Sure he’d warned me to fill up as I’d need as much fuel for the mountain hike, but it was far more difficult than I imagined. Our first stop up the mountain was at this Buddhist stupa. Little history is recorded on the stupa, but it is surrounded by caves that served as cells for the monks. Atop of the stupa rests a stone which if you ask anyone from the village about they’ll tell you almost immediately that it has the footprint of Buddha on the stone.

Further up the mountain there are small forts which see very few tourists and which very few tourists see because of the difficulty of the climb. While the air quality was amazing the climb in altitude was a slight challenge for me and I had to stop for short breaks more than I thought I would. As you could imagine I was thrilled to make it to points of interest like this years and years old signal fort. Ashes some thousands of years old can still be found around the fort I believe. In any case this made for a good break and photo opportunity.

After the signal fort we climbed some more to this old ancient fort. With the stunning views behind the fort of the valley it was clear on why any man would build a post at this particular part of the mountain.


My guide Teo, who has the eye sight of a hawk, spotted these folks coming back with their sheep, donkey, and cows from a recent few days trip when they take the cattle to feed and what have you. He suggested we meet them along the way. I was pretty timid considering the teeny-tiny path you have to take to reach them and I wasn’t the most trusting of the mountain terrain. Hey, I’m from Florida, but without much tooth-pulling I took off along the path. I was hoping to make new friends and surely I did.

The mountain men joked as they watched me clumsily walk carefully along the path. They said if I could ride a donkey I could get out much faster, but I think sitting atop of a donkey would have freaked me out more though it was a rather charming little guy.


Which one of these doesn’t belong?

Almost everyone you meet along the way will happily invite you to their place for tea and other Tajik delights and while you shouldn’t refuse the invitation or chance to check out a Pamiri home it gets tough when you have two, three, or four families asking you over. Whatever the case you should at least accept one offer. I had the chance to stay at two. One in Vrang and the other in Yamchun.

On our third day before we had to take off later that day my guide and I went up to the Bibi Fatima mineral hot springs. I was told it would be sinning not to go and naturally I did not wish to sin so I followed along once more. The full name is the Ostoni Bibi Fotimai Zakhro hot spring which literally means ‘holy site of the sleeves of Bibi Fatima.’ The story behind the hot springs is that it is believed to improve female fertility. After finding this out, I then knew why it was such a big deal (especially if your a woman) to make a trip to the hot springs. To sum my trip to Bibi Fatima up it was here I think I found heaven on Earth. Having taken bird baths over the last couple of days and with sore muscles from my mountain climbs the hot water splashing down from the falls in the cave felt like a dreamland. I only wished I could have stayed there forever. Will it increase my fertility or any other visitor for that matter? Who knows, but it certainly felt great!

While I haven’t any photos from the hot springs interior I leave you with these shots of signs from Yamchun and one of the Bibi Fatima exterior. From here I began my departure away from Yamchun, Vrang and the Wakhan Corridor to return to Khorog where there were some hidden gems as well. Overall, the Wakhan has too many hidden gems to name and so much history that it makes writing about them very difficult. My only hope: should this be a desired travel destination for someone that it has helped in terms of what to do and if it wasn’t that it has inspired you to go. Stay tuned for more.

Getting to Tajikistan can be difficult depending on your schedule and flight plan. I went from Tampa-JFK-Istanbul-Dushanbe, on Delta then Turkish Air (approx. $1,900 USD) which I highly suggest flying Turkish Air into the country rather than Tajik Air which has can be fickle at times. However, Tajik Air flies through Munich, Moscow and St. Petersburg to name a few international cities of interest. Check their website for flight times and departure cities. Once in Tajikistan you can either fly into Khorog ($60 USD) to start your Pamir journey or you can take the 15-18 hour drive from Dushanbe down ($30 USD). I went by flight down with Tajik Air and drove back up. The ride is bumpy, long and filled with terrifying close calls with the mountain edge. If you can stomach it or on a tight budget go for the drive.

When planning a trip down to the Pamirs more than money you’ll need time. You can get by on $30 USD for 10 days according to my guide if you have the time. Most of the cost goes towards transportation and accommodation is typically provided by a friendly stranger or two along your path. For more detailed information on visiting Pamirs I suggest heading to this Pamirs website first. They’ve got tons of background details, panorama photos of the region, as well as this page of links to help you in your travel planning. Lonely Planet has only a wee-bit of information, but you may find a nugget of useful information somewhere. The Great Game Travel Company has great information and can provide you with a guide as well. I’m
told their schedules are pretty strict and it might be better to go with a local should you speak some Tajik or Russian.

(All photos taken by Adrienne Wilson unless pictured in them where they were then taken by my guide Teo Kaye or a villager who had some decent photo skills.)

Hidden Gems: Carlsbad Caverns (This Place Rocks!)

by Willy Volk on

Recently, I had the chance to visit Carlsbad Caverns National Park with my wife and my father. Driving from my grandmother’s house in El Paso, Texas, we reached the Caverns, located in southern New Mexico’s dusty Chihuahuan Desert, in about 3 hours. Carlsbad — immense, colorful, and magical — contains 113 caves, formed over millions of years as sulfuric acid dissolved the surrounding limestone. The result is 2 miles of majestic, creepy, underground adventure — that feels like you’re exploring a very unruly planet. I had no idea what to expect before arriving. It doesn’t really matter, though, because no amount of preparation can get you ready for the enormity and the unusual beauty of the Caverns.

Happily, we managed to time our trip on the 90th Birthday of the country’s National Park System. Boy oh boy, that cake was good!

Some of you may take exception with calling Carlsbad Caverns a Hidden Gem. The Caverns see 500,000 visitors a year; are the jewel in the crown of America’s cave systems; and have had starring roles in various Hollywood films — so they’re clearly a Gem. However, they’re remote, dark, and underground, so I’m going to call them Hidden.

We arrived at the Caverns around lunchtime. Located about 20 miles south of the City of Carlsbad, the Caverns are situated just outside White City, a sleepy little village that’s been modeled after an Old West town. Although there’s a well-stocked convenience store, a gift shop, a tiny hotel, a water park, and some other facilities, I wouldn’t plan on all things being available at all times. In fact, the day we visited, the shiny new gas station was closed tight. In short: plan to gas up and stock up elsewhere.

Fortunately, we had brought some sandwiches with us, just in case we got hungry on the drive, and we gobbled them before entering the Cavern. This turned out to be a very good idea. After snarfing lunch, we posed for a photo on the way in.

Inside the Visitor’s Center — which provides an excellent overview and history of the Caverns — we learned about the Park System’s birthday celebration. When I asked the Park Rangers if I could snap their photo, one woman joyfully bubbled, “Wow…no one ever wants to take our picture.”

Just to clarify, the entire National Park System turned 90 years old that day. Carlsbad Caverns became a National monument in 1923; in 1930, the Caverns were upgraded to a State Park; and in 1995, the area became a World Heritage Site.

With that settled, we wiped cake from our faces and made our way from the Visitor’s Center to the Cavern entrance, which is about a 500-foot walk. Looking around, I was surprised with how green the surroundings were.

Green? Yes. Calling me to walk through it barefoot? No.

After being reminded (again) by a good-natured Ranger that we would go without a restroom break for more than an hour, and discouraged (again) from touching the Cavern’s formations (the oils on fingers coat the rocks, preventing them from growing), we headed to the yawning maw of the Cavern. This entrance is known as the Natural Entrance.

The amphitheater-styled seating is provided for the Bat Viewing. Each evening at sundown, from May to September, nearly 400,000 Brazilian free-tail bats exit the Cavern in search of dinner. These seats are provided for vistiors to watch the bats leave. Initially, I thought bat viewing sounded lame, but after leaving the Caverns, I wish we’d arranged to stay and watch. I mean, c’mon: when else will you see 400,000 bats flying at once? The experience would be equal parts horror movie and Wild Kingdom.

Appropriately enough, the first room inside the Natural Entrance — dark, musty, and endless — is called “the Bat Cave.” Forget taking photos — unless you like black pictures.

Entrance to the Caverns is cheap: $6 per person is the cost for self-guided tours. If you choose this option, I highly recommend shelling out the extra $3 for an audio player. You carry it with you on the trek, and when you approach a numbered marker, you punch in the number and listen to the pre-recorded hosts explain what you’re looking at. A bit cheesy? Yes, at times. But you learn a lot about what you’re seeing.

Speaking of tours, there are several kinds available. As mentioned, we took the self-guided Natural Entrance Tour, which takes about an hour and a half, and leaves you in the Big Room, which requires another hour or so. If you only have an hour, you might want to skip the Natural Entrance and head straight for the quickee-tour of the Big Room, which you can access directly via an elevator. (If you only do this tour, I think you’re short-changing yourself, but if you’ve got limited time, or you’re with people who don’t get around so well, this is the one to choose.) Finally, if you don’t want an audio tour, you can arrange for a Ranger-guided tour. Some of these tours even allow you to wear hard hats with lights and take you to otherwise inaccessible parts of the cave system, so if you’re batty for Carlsbad, you might want to explore this option.

Although the Caverns are, well, cavernous, there are times that visitors are required to walk through slightly narrow passageways. Consequently, the horribly-claustrophobic might not be interested in visiting.

Also, be aware that the temperature inside the Caverns is a constant (refreshing) 56 degrees. I found lightweight hiking pants and a short-sleeved t-shirt to be highly adequate; I never wore the long-sleeved t-shirt I brought. However, if you’re easily chilled, bring a lightweight cover-up. For your feet, sneakers are the only way to go: plan to be on your feet, on potentially slippery paths, for several hours.

Access inside the cave can be tricky. For example, this is one of the ladders we used.

I’m totally kidding. This ladder was used by National Geographic explorers in 1924 and is merely on display today. In reality, visitors walk on carefully laid-out paths, many featuring hand-rails and an occasional spotlight.

People on crutches or in wheelchairs can’t make the trip, but anyone else who can handle a 2% grade and stand for a few hours will get by fabulously.

Immediately, you’ll notice the odd shape of the rocks, which appear to be melting. Of course, they’re not melting, although sulfuric acid has been slowly dissolving the limestone for millions of years, and the result is the unusual formations we enjoy today. This particular formation is called the “Whale’s Mouth.” See the baleen?

Many of the formations — also known as “speleotherms” or (more simply) as “decorations” — grow from ceiling to floor and form massive columns that look like giant, melting candles. They’re everywhere in the Caverns.

One day, little guy…

While some decorations are relatively smooth, others look like popcorn — in fact, they’re even referred to as “popcorn” — and are created when water evaporates, leaving behind bumpy calcite deposits.

After about an hour and a half, visitors arrive at the imaginatively-named Big Room. While the decorations and scope of the Natural Entrance hike are impressive, it’s the Big Room that really takes your breath away. But before venturing into the Big Room, we stopped and spent some time at the Snack Bar, 750 feet below the surface of the earth.

That’s a bat holding the sign. Get it?

I’m going to be brutally honest here. Remember when I mentioned that we’d brought sandwiches and ate them prior to entering the cave. Yeah, well…that was a good idea, because the snack bar is woefully understocked. It has cool drinks and some candy bars, but the “meals” consist of plastic-wrapped, microwave-able burgers that resemble truck stop food and appear as old as the walls inside the Caverns. Word to the wise: don’t plan on filling up here. But the stop sure makes a cool photo!

Of course, before heading on, we needed to swing by the Gift Shop…

…and the restroom…

Usually I don’t take photos of men’s rooms, but I was so impressed and surprised by the rock formation over the urinals, that I couldn’t help myself. I even touched it to confirm it was real. It is. (Shhhh! Don’t tell the Park Rangers I touched it!)

Heading on to the Big Room, I was amazed by the vastness, scope, scale, and volume of what I saw. Helo-oo-oo-oo-o…if shouting were allowed in the Caverns, it would be deafening. Taking approximately 1½ hours, the circular route through the Big Room passes many gi-normous features including Bottomless Pit, Giant Dome, Rock of Ages, and Painted Grotto. It’s wheelchair- but NOT stroller-accessible.

Much in the way that the Grand Canyon can not be captured in photos, some of the decorations in the Big Room are un-photograph-able: they’re just to big. Unless you’re Spielberg, I doubt you’ll have the camera equipment to shoot the entire Big Room. After all, it occupies 14 football fields! I did my best, however, with some of the smaller decorations.

One of the first things you see upon entering the Big Room is this decoration known as the Lion’s Tail. I have no idea why they call it that…

Fairy Land occupies a large portion of the 8.2-acre Big Room. Named by Jim White, the original explorer of the caverns, he thought these popcorn formations resembled fairies.

Remember that White only had a small lantern, not a battery-powered flash on his camera. I think he also had a pocket full of mescaline.

So where’s all the “big stuff”? We’re getting there…

This was the only photo I let my wife take. I was a greedy camera-hog that day. I think she did a good job, though. Maybe I’ll let her shoot more photos in the future.

This formation is roughly 40 feet tall, and the ceiling flies up more than 200 feet. I got dizzy several times looking up.

Don’t bump your head!

If you’re confused about how to remember the difference between stalactites and stalagmites, try this memory aid: stalgmites grow against gravity and are mighty; while stalactites cling tightly to the ceiling.

This decoration — dubbed the Rock of Ages — is one of the biggest in the Big Room. It stands more than 45 feet tall and is roughly 15 feet wide.

If you don’t think the decorations look like melting candles, I think these images will convince you.

And a closer look…

Not all of the formations in the Big Room are big. In fact, many of the decorations are small and exquisite. This particular formation is called the Doll’s Theater. It’s only about 15 feet tall at the mouth and only a few feet tall in the rear.

Here’s another small, delicate decoration.

Freud sees what?

Amusingly, everyone spent a lot of time looking at this decoration. As I snapped a photo of it, the grandmotherly woman standing next to me asked her friend where her husband was. When her friend said she didn’t know, the woman said, “I’m surprised he walked away already.”

We spent a little over 3 hours in the Caverns, but we probably could’ve spent an entire day, wandering amazed among the decorations amazed. There’s probably as much information about the Caverns as there are cubic inches of cave. If you want to learn more about the Caverns, check out these resources:

In summary, it was a great, big, huge day, filled with lots of walking and many unusual sights. There was only bad thing that happened…but I’ll tell you about that tomorrow.

Hidden Gems: Little Palm Island Resort & Spa

by Willy Volk on

Recently, my wife and I spent a long weekend in Florida’s Lower Keys. Often overlooked in favor of their more famous neighbors (Marathon and, of course, Key West), the Lower Keys offer untamed landscapes, brilliant beaches, outdoor adventure, and the best stargazing in Florida. Personally, we were there to participate in the Lower Keys Underwater Music Festival.

In an effort to increase the “special quotient” for our weekend, I made reservations for us at the Little Palm Island Resort and Spa, which Zagat rates as the best Hotel Dining Room in the Southeast and the third best in the Nation. The Resort is so exclusive, visitors are ferried to the Resort in the all-teak Miss Margaret. If you want to have a romantic, memorable dinner in the Keys, this is the place to go.

Visitors to the Resort park their cars on Middle Torch Key, near mile-marker 28.5 and enter a small, lavish waiting area. Immediately outside the waiting area is a canal from which the Miss Margaret departs.

We were a little early, so we waited outside before boarding the ship.

The ride to the Resort lasts about 20 minutes, and it’s quite nice. On the starboard side of the boat, beautiful homes line Middle Torch Key; on the port side, the great, big Atlantic Ocean rolls off into the distance. As the boat approached the Resort, everyone craned to see the island. Rooms here start at $750/night, and everyone was interested in seeing what the hub-bub was about.

As we got closer, the captain of the boat explained that the Island was landscaped with 150 kinds of palm trees, and the lushness was noticeable immediately. We really couldn’t see the Resort’s rooms from the boat. In fact, even after we docked, we could only see a roof here, or a private dock there. It was very, very private.

Upon docking, my wife and I were escorted briskly to a waiting table. We were informed that our dinner pass only entitled us access to the restaurant and the adjacent bar, and wandering around the property was strictly forbidden. Although I had asked for a beach-side table — where the chairs are, in the photo above — we were informed that the recent stormy weather made this impossible.

The Resort hosts weddings on an almost-daily basis. In fact, as we ate dinner, one young couple exchanged vows on the beach, as the sun set, about 50 yards from our table. Paparazzi-like, I snapped this photo as proof.

Okay, okay…so it’s not a great photo. In case you’re wondering, the couple and the preacher are just to the left of the crooked tree.

We ordered a half-bottle of wine and some appetizers, including grouper ceviche — “cooked” with key lime — and jumbo lump crab cakes. As we sat there, enjoying the gentle breeze and the fading sunlight, a key deer popped into view. Standing roughly two feet tall and weighing between 45 and 80 pounds, key deer are cousins to the Virginia white-tailed deer, but much, much smaller. Officials estimate that only 800 of them remain. Unfortunately, because of all the palm trees, ferns, and other wildlife in the way, I couldn’t snap a photo of a deer there before it ran away.

Soon, it was time to order another half-bottle of wine. (Man, those things go fast.) Shortly thereafter, dinner arrived. I enjoyed perfectly grilled grilled mahi mahi complemented by smashed purple potatoes. The fish was excellent, and I am happy to report that , although I’ve never before eaten purple potatoes, they were very nice, too. My wife ordered snapper, but I didn’t take a picture of her plate.

Although we were full from our appetizers, two half-bottles of wine, and our meals, we couldn’t leave without sampling dessert. I’m a key lime pie fanatic, so there was no way I was going to try anything else. My wife loves mango-flavored things, so when the waitress mentioned that they had mango sorbet, she was sold.

We also ordered dessert wines. After all, it was a special evening.

Stuffed, we paid the bill, and made our way down to the dock.

The last boat from the Resort to the mainland leaves at 10. We were on it. Overall, we had a very good meal at a very memorable location. I’d recommend a meal at Little Palm, however, keep these things in mind:

  • If you’re a man, you can wear shorts, but you must wear a collared shirt.
  • The mosquitoes in the Lower Keys are as big and as mean as vultures. Do NOT forget your mosquito repellent.
  • Although the atmosphere at Little Palm Island is “island casual,” it’s not terribly laid-back. Guests pay a lot to stay here, and management likes to encourage classiness. In other words, don’t plan on having a crab-cake-eating contest, or asking if you can sit in with the band, just for this one song.
Since dinner is pricey — our bill came to around $300! — consider visiting the Resort for Sunday brunch. The restaurant offers an appetizer buffet, and limitless, individually prepared entrees. At $59/person, it seems like a bargain. If you’re interested, the boat from the mainland leaves at 10:30am and 11:30am.

Have you ever visited Little Palm Island? What did you think?

Hidden Gems: Hell

by Willy Volk on

This week, humanity witnessed the (nearly) unprecedented: the dreaded 6/6/6 came and went fairly innocuously. Some people celebrated by desecrating churches. One woman celebrated by giving birth to a baby at 6 in the morning…that weighed 6.66 pounds. Some kids in Jersey celebrated by staying home from school.

I didn’t do any of that silly stuff. What did I do? My plan was devilishly simple: I went to Hell.

In case you had a Hell of a bad geography teacher, Hell is located at roughly 19.30 N, and 80.30 W — in the northwest corner of Grand Cayman. Seriously. If you look at a map of the island, you’ll see a place marked Hell. Considering its location, there’s very little chance that it’ll ever freeze over.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Although famous for its glisteningly-white Seven Mile Beach, Grand Cayman is not ringed entirely by soft, sandy, toe-loving beach. In fact, much of it is surrounded by ironshore, a rough, sharp, gray, limestone rock that would cut the toes of anyone who stepped on it.

 

 

 

 

 

Legend has it that in the 1930s, an Englishman visited the spot, shot at a bird, missed, and muttered, “Oh, Hell.” The name stuck. A wise, forward-thinking Cayman resident, Ivan Farrington, had an epiphany: Yes, he thought, I can’t do anything else with this useless Phytokarst formation — this place must be Hell. And like any good entrepreneur, he set forth to create his vision.

On the morning of 6/6/6, my father and I went to Hell. No, we didn’t go in a handbasket; we rented a car. After winding past massive hotels, and through a small neighborhood, I found an ominous-looking intersection. This must be the place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I made a hard right, drove past Hell’s only gas station (an Esso), and pulled into the parking lot. However, I was careful not to park in the wrong spot.

 

 

 

 

 

What is this place, I thought? Could it really be Hell?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Or just a commercialized version of it?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

First, I wandered out back, where the ironshore pokes up ominously, and I realized how inhospitable the terrain is. Only a devil could love it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He loves it so much, in fact, that he guards it…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…personally.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fearfully, I left the ironshore and made my way to the inner circle of Hell.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I took a  deep breath, and I made a pact with the devil: let me escape this place alive, and I promise to tell the world about you and your establishment.

 

 

 

After shaking hands with the devil himself, I entered the store. I was surrounded by t-shirts, fridge magnets, bumper stickers, and every imaginable kind of hellish gee-gaw, all hocking Hell:

  • “My mom went to Hell, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.”
  • “If you can read this t-shirt, then she fell the Hell off the bike!”
  • “Get the Hell out of my way!”

For the literate, you could even purchase a postcard from Hell, affix a Hell postage stamp to it, and mail it from Hell’s own mailbox.

 

 

 

 

 

It turns out that although you can purchase cold drinks in Hell, there is no restaurant: no Hell’s Kitchen to serve up hot wings or fiery chili.

I chose a shotglass (“I made it to Hell and back”) and made my way to the front counter. Mr. Farrington was there, and he took my money. I asked if I could take his photo. He paused, looked at me, and asked, “Well…what the Hell are you waiting for?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I thanked him and turned to leave. But before I did, I leveled my gaze at him and snarled, “You, go to Hell!”

I rushed from the store, jumped in my car, gunned the engine and got the Hell out of there. Fortunately, despite being there on 6/6/6, I did not spontaneously combust.

I know this is one Hell of a story, but it’s completely true. If you don’t believe me, why don’t YOU go to Hell!