My First Adventures

I was seven years old when I climbed my first mountain with a group of neighbours. We were all barefoot, unfazed by the bruises from sharp stones or the stings of aloe thorns on our feet, legs, and arms. We carried no food, no drinks, no snacks — only curiosity and courage.

After that first adventure, I began going regularly to what we called the “Head” of the mountain: an enormous rock that gives the mountain its majestic character. At first, I went with the same group of children. Soon after, I would go alone — sometimes to roam freely, sometimes to stand in silence and admire the vast Indian Ocean from the “Head”.

On my way back, I often stopped at the Canal La Ferme, a river that feeds the man-made lake of La Ferme, once teeming with tilapia. Before long, I joined groups of young neighbours fishing there. By the age of nine, I was also going with them to gather firewood — a small act that always delighted my mother.

During school holidays, I would climb the Corps de Garde on my own, or walk over the mountain to collect firewood.

Those early days shaped me — they are what made me the hiker and nature lover I am today. I will return to those memories again.

For now, if you would like to share your own adventures, please add them in the comments below — I would love to read them, and so would the community.

Looking ahead: in the second stage of Wakahi, there will be a dedicated section called Guest Stories — a group blog where every member who has something to say will have the chance to share their journey with all of us.