By Samantha De Silva

The second forest quest involves climbing … and more climbing. Our exceptional guide for the day, DJ (I suspect he is at least part wood-elf) stops every few minutes to point out an interesting plant and its properties, or a long-forgotten electrical route marker, and how it got there. He even finds a sandalwood tree at one point, much to our delight and amazement. Stopping at a pipe-shaped object that is covered in bees, he tells us that these are non-venomous sweat bees: they don’t look for pollen, but salt in perspiration. They do make honey, like other pollen-munching bees, but not very much of it.

Gnarled, twisting boughs and fascinating shapes lurk around every corner in sun-warmed wood, some of them resembling enormous, carved vipers taking a nap. Our other constant companions on this quest are very determined collections of large black ants that look as though they are having some sort of conference. I admire the magnificent, twisting branches and watch my path carefully, leaving the ants to their furious debates. When we (finally) get to the first lookout point, I am just about ready to collapse in a heap, but I’m distracted by the view.

It is arresting, and not in the way that nice scenery is simply pleasant, but nothing more. There is a moment of perfect synchronicity, just as on the canopy walk. After we are rested and watered, our guide cheerfully announces that the next and final viewpoint is not far away, and not as steep as the trail we just took. I briefly consider taking a nap here instead of continuing to the next viewpoint, but I suspect that’s not an option.

Final Quest

I’m not entirely sure how I survive the final part of this trail: as in any story, your reward for completing a quest is usually a more difficult quest, instead of a cold fruit juice and maybe a slice of warm toast with butter. I am so tired at this point that I am getting careless and clumsy with my footing; often stumbling and nearly tripping. (It requires tremendous mental energy for me not to knock into things and people on any given day, without factoring in fatigue and a rainforest trail.)

We reach the final part of our quest, greeted by a cozy little pavilion next to a rocky outcrop. Just as our guide had predicted, my fatigue melts away once I take in the view.

When you’re up there at that lookout point, everything else melts away into the background. Work, romance, bills … all your troubles – big and small – evaporate as the sun hits your face and you drink in the view, fringed by green leaves. The sweat bees don’t bother me, although they are jostling around me for a free lunch. I stifle a giggle – the sweat bees are adorable, but also very ticklish. This is probably the endorphins talking, but the bees seem to be welcoming me to their forest.

This is when I find my perfect moment of balance: this was my real quest, though I didn’t know it until it was over. The welcoming, fierce kiss of the sun on my skin is the fire in my belly that had been missing for a while. The green all around me and far off into the distance is my hardwired urge to build, to make things grow from small seeds on rocky ground into mighty trees. Running through it all is the river far, far below: the source of the words, the stories that flow forth from me and feed me in so many ways. Like the river, it is sometimes sluggish and reluctant, and at other times, it races along so quickly that I cannot do anything but close my eyes and let the stories take me where they want to go.

It takes a while to write and explain this, but it happened in one sun-drenched, crystal-clear moment of perfect balance and searing clarity.

As we cross the river, back into the realm of humans, the sun hangs low in the sky. For a moment, we are gliding on a river of water turned to gold. It is a fitting end to the day of forest quests, a reminder that I have found invaluable treasure in this strange forest kingdom today.

My quest was complete at that point. Not because I conquered the trail, or it conquered me, but simply because I had allowed the rainforest to win me over. Just for a little while, my story was part of the many, many stories that this ancient rainforest has seen.