Denise Hall: Birds bring dreams of faraway hot spots
And an assortment of winged insects, some of which I couldn’t identify, made their way inside. A small bat spent a couple of nights drying out in the boiler room.
Not exactly holiday weather. Princess Daisy the St Bernard, looked at me as though I were crazy when I suggested that despite the lashing rain, we needed a walk. Not so Jack, the ever-energetic collie, a dog for whom mindfulness is a way of life.
I found myself reliving an extraordinary holiday we had once, in a remote village in the Grand Canyon, the last place in America where mail was delivered by mule train. It was blisteringly hot and transport down the mile or so to the canyon floor was by pack horse.
The Havasupai tribe have lived in and around the Grand Canyon for over eight centuries. Their name means “people of the blue-green waters”.
The tribe are intimately connected to this magical water which it is believed flows not only across their land, but through each tribal member.
And despite the fact that they lost the majority of their lands to prospectors and the National Park Service, they fought a long battle in the courts, eventually winning much of it back .
Such rugged determination has stood them in good stead. Making a living in such harsh land has not always been easy.
But despite these difficulties, the tribe has survived and today, they play host to some 20,000 visitors a year, people who are drawn by the stunning beauty of its four waterfalls and pools, the campsite and tribal shop, selling basic supplies and a range of locally made arts and crafts.
It is a fragile ecosystem however, and the tribe ensure that numbers are carefully controlled. Permission to visit must be obtained in advance, you must bring in what you need, and take all your rubbish out with you.
We were due to meet our guide with horses at the top of the canyon for the descent to Supai Village, in a place known as Hualapai Hilltop. We waited, and sweated and waited, taking the odd nervous look down into the canyon’s cavernous depths.
Eventually the horses and guide arrived and we were mounted and off. No turning back now.
It felt like riding into one of those Land That Time Forgot movies and the appearance of a pterodactyl wouldn’t have surprised me.
But despite the odd heart-stopping scrabbling of a horse’s hooves on the dry shale, all went well until my daughter’s horse decided it wanted a bit of a break, bolted into a small cave and proceeded to roll.
Fortunately, she was quick-thinking enough to jump off, the saddle was readjusted and we carried on, ever downward.
We were about three-quarters of the way to the canyon floor and I was just beginning to think that this wasn’t such a mad notion after all, when there was a thunder of hooves behind us.
The mule train was right behind and judging by the speed of the dozen or so mules and their sweating driver, the post was running late. Following the lead of our guide, we pulled to one side, or as far as that was possible on such a narrow track, and they thundered past, leaving a mighty cloud of dust in their wake.
It was like arriving in some sort of lost Eden. The waterfalls and pools were our first stop, of a colour and purity that’s indescribable. We soaked and splashed then decided that we’d better get our campsite set up before nightfall.
It was when we started on the tent that I realised we — I — had forgotten the tent pegs. I set off to find some suitable rocks. My annoyance with myself must have shown because the next day, there were rumours going around about a wild looking woman who seemed to lift large rocks as a pastime.
But considering the pristine beauty of the place and the cultural integrity of the tribal people who manage their homeplace so well, the lack of tent pegs seemed a minor detail.
It was an unforgettable experience and one I’d love to repeat, this time with tent pegs safely stashed. But holidays are always special and West Cork has provided us with some memorable ones and will again this August I’m sure, no matter what the weather.
I asked Des Manning, of Manning Travel in Kilkenny, a company with five generations of experience, for his views.
How did your company begin Des?
It’s a family business and we go back to the 1860s.
It started as a family owned bar and grocers, then after the famine when a lot of people were setting sail, we were selected to be the representatives for PO and others.
Eventually, the grocery business slowed with the advent of the supermarkets but the travel side of things continued to flourish. I took over from my father in 2003.
How are you finding things this year? Does bad summer weather have a big effect?
We’ve seen a big improvement this year. And that’s got a lot to do with the fact that the weather here is mixed and unreliable. And of course, the holiday is so important to people.
They’ve worked hard all year for it and it’s what kept them going during the dark days of February.
What we’re finding is that people are more looking for a deal, rather than a destination. So our job is to match these expectations with their budget.
We don’t believe in building up unrealistic expectations in our clients because we know how important those one or two weeks are.
What are you advising for families this year?
It’s our opinion that the all-inclusive holidays are the best bet for families. They may seem more expensive at first glance but they are often the safest, most cost-effective way of doing things.
Traditionally Irish people tended to favour self-catering holidays, but now they are changing.
All-inclusive holidays make more sense and you don’t have a constant battle with kids who may want this or that which you haven’t counted for.
Let’s face it, if the kids aren’t happy you won’t be. Our job is to match our client’s expectations with their budget and give them a really great holiday.
www.manningtravel.ie
httourism0@havasupai-nsn.gov
