The Riverwalk: A Personal Narrative

The Riverwalk: A Personal Narrative

There was green everywhere. I had never seen so much vegetation in one vicinity; I was consumed by it. The sun was scorching on that humid day, but once we drove under the trees, a cool breeze swept over us. We had arrived at the Riverwalk, just outside of Negril, Jamaica. At that point, I wasn’t entirely sure what I had gotten myself into, but what I knew was that I was looking at one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen. As we drove through the forest, I gazed down at the giant river, strong and deep, all while thinking that it could be in a movie scene. The wildlife surrounding me consisted of substantial amounts of trees, shrubs, vines, and birds, and it made me feel like the natives from Apocalypse Now could jump out at any moment.

Other than my mom, dad, and brother, there were a couple of strangers who came along for the ride. After we stepped out of the window-less Jeep, we did circles, taking everything in. The man who took us through the river was doing the whole safety spiel, which I didn’t pay attention to; who does pay attention anyway? After we changed into our bathing suits, we each climbed, one after another, into the water. It was surprising warm, and it felt good in the humid September air. I immediately went all the way under, to get all the sweat and bugs off. As we started down the river, I realized why the locals kept this a low-key attraction; it was incredibly peaceful. All I thought about was how amazing it was, the loud buzzing of the insects sounding in my head. We climbed over massive rocks and fallen tree trunks, laughing when someone would trip and splash into the water. I was in my element, consumed by the beauty and new