The sun was setting over the western shore as the cocaine slowly began to wear off. Josh, my American confidant and friend on the island who had saved me from homelessness, was driving. Like me, he had two things on his mind for our weekend away in the island interior: to find the lost waterfall of Le Foutain, and, most importantly, to first travel to St. Anne for the biggest party of the month. He was in particularly good spirits as his crush, Amy, had decided to hitch a lift with us. Amy, a gap-year student from Leeds, was a British goddess who, thankfully, had a drug dealer on the island.
Josh didn’t do drugs so I volunteered to be their translator.
“Awh! Jesus, man, slow down, slow down! My goddamn arm is burned from that blasted sun!” I wailed as our little blue Honda screeched through the hilly mountain passes. Tonight, we were eastbound and down to f*ck. The only problem was that Josh felt my energy was a bit much for the gap-year kids. We were both about 3 to 4 years older than the other foreigners, and I was only here because my friend Kevin stole my card and booked me a one-way ticket. I had made the best of it by finding Josh.
“Relax, Pete. Here.” Amy leaned in and handed me a pill.
“What’s this?” It was tiny and white.
What good was it to me, this child drug?
“It’ll relax you before the party. You’re jumpy tonight.” She sat back and stretched out her legs, resting a foot on Josh’s and my shoulders. Maybe she was right; I was jumpy. But I had good reason, as I was completely unprepared for this 3-day venture into the core of this strange and wonderful island. I only had 3 bananas and about 20 euros. ‘F*ck it,’ I concluded. ‘Down the hatch!’ Might as well go all in.
The Party
It was almost midnight when we reached the tiny, one-story house that was hosting the shindig. It was canopied by jungle and darkness, save for one solitary balloon in the driveway. There were no cars in the driveway but a blue glow was emanating from the backyard. The pill that Amy gave me was in full swing now and I was horny for the party. My face was numb but the rest of me was on fire.
As we entered the house, we were met by blaring dance music and revelry at every corner. Everyone was half-naked and white. It seemed this inclusive bunch of lefty gap-year students very much liked to keep to themselves. ‘Christ, these kids know nothing.’ I thought to myself as I witnessed the scene of wet floors, spilled rum, and manic Marco Polo in the backyard pool, which was visible through the patio. ‘I’m no gap year kid and I’ve already spent the night in a mosque,’ Sure, I was homeless at the time and the Creole imam took pity on me. It wasn’t by choice but god damn it, at least I was mixing with the good people of the island.
“Peter!” A small, black-haired girl with green eyes jumped into my arms. It was Petit, a girl I had slept with about a week ago. She was from Paris but after her parent's divorce, she decided to come to Reunion to live with her father. “What are you doing here? I am so happy!” And she was. Petit was extremely cute, beautiful, sexy, and kind, which made me wonder why she was hanging out with gap-year trash. “We’re just doing a weekend away. You know, waterfalls and who knows?.” Her head always tilted as she observed my mutterings. “Sounds very, very, very... you!” She said as she landed a kiss on my lips. “Let me introduce you to my friends. Want a drink?” Her white tank top was see-through from the pool's water, her nipples were protruding and she smelled like rum. I was already intoxicated by her “I’d love one.”
As I made my way through the dancing silhouettes, my mind became heavy along with my lips, nose, and lower spine. ‘What was that pill? Never mind, man, just keep going.’ Petit had returned with a drink and was leading me towards the pool. “Fiona!” She cried out. A red-haired beauty raised her milky-skinned, freckled arm and waved us over. She was drinking a vodka tonic from a mug in one hand while her other softly hung around another girl. The other girl was slightly fuller than Fiona but just as beautiful. She had long auburn hair and shared Fiona’s love of water. As Petit and I approached the pool, the girl with the auburn hair began to kiss Fiona's neck as her head flung back in pleasure. ‘Lesbians!’ My inner child screamed out in delight.
‘And they’re mermaids, too!’
“Fiona, Jess, this is Peter; look after him while I get my bathing suit.” And with that, my little Petit hopped away like a little bunny into the crowd. “Do I need one?” I shouted before I heard a clear “No!” call out in unison and before I knew it, I was pulled into the pool by the two beautiful mermaids. “Petit said you were cute.” Fiona said in a lush Northern Irish accent before Jess chimed, “And she said we can kiss!” I was drenched and my fresh rum was all but gone. What else was there to do? I was nervous but I wasn’t going to refuse such a magical offer. “Well, if she said so.” The three of us kissed, touched, and fondled until Petit came and joined us. The clear island air, the rum, the altitude, and the strange pill sent me into a whirl. The party didn’t seem to care what we were doing as Jess Petit mounted me. It was happening. And so fast. Just like that.
‘I’m not jumpy now, Amy!’ I joked to myself as the mermaids and Parisian city girl made me theirs. Fiona and Jess didn’t partake as much as I would have liked but I wasn’t complaining. They felt safe enough to explore with me thanks to Petit.
Hell, everyone felt safe. In every corner, every sexuality was getting it on. Boys on boys, girls on girls, boys on girls on boys, and such. It was a symphony of sexual diversity. One I had never encountered before. Normally, if I saw a guy kissing another, it’d make me feel uncomfortable. That homophobic edge that most straight men live with. But tonight, as Petit and the mermaids danced around my soul, I felt happy that everyone felt safe enough here to truly be themselves.
Maybe these gap-year boys and girls were here to find themselves, too.
“OK, that’s enough. I like it but not that much.” Jess concluded. Fiona and Petit were still making out with me when Josh squatted down behind us. “Dude, I’m going upstairs.” He was full of joy and sober. “With Amy?” I inquired, and I pulled up my shorts. “A gentleman never tells.” And with that, he disappeared. I was on the verge of disappearing myself. “I gotta find somewhere to lie down, Petit.” I kneeled down and whispered some words and she smiled. The two of us disappeared together in search of a hammock and more smiles. In the distance, the mermaids waved us goodbye.
I awoke the next morning under the glaring sun and palm trees of the backyard. Petit was curled up in my arms. She had even brought a blanket for us. I decided it was high time that we got moving. The party was well and truly over, and all that remained were bottles, clothes, and deflating balloons.
“Petit, wake up,” I whispered. “How are you getting back to Saint Pierre?” “Oh, Pete, I’m going to Saint-Denis with the girls later.” “Alright, I’ll see you soon. I gotta wake up Josh.”
I found Josh and Amy in the kitchen, eating bananas. “You ready to go?” Josh sprightly asked as Amy looked on with a knowing smile. They seemed happy. They didn’t need me to translate for them anymore. I was in bits from the rum and pills. The hangover from hell. “Ya, man. Look, if I’m to endure, I’m going to need a few beers.” I wandered to the fridge and cracked open a beverage. It helped. I stacked a few more in my backpack for the journey. “Let me say goodbye to Petit and I’ll see you in the car.”
The Fountain
Two days before our endeavor, there had been a lot of rain, which meant that the mountain’s waterfall would be awash with water and danger. Josh, who was an experienced hiker, had his reservations.
One such reservation was that he was about to go in search of the Lost Waterfall with his crush and an Irish man who was drinking his way out of a hangover.
As we drove further into the interior of the island and up the mountain passes, the air became slightly thinner. “I’m not sure about the fountain waterfall, Peter.” I didn’t blame him. Amy was with us after all and we had no climbing gear or supplies and I was still half drunk. “Let’s just see how close we can get. Maybe we can grab some pictures for your scrapbook, mate.” He nodded in agreement with a little smirk.
I mean, the weather had been fine for the last 24 hours. The Fountain was one of the largest waterfalls on the island and the only one Josh hadn't seen, which is why we named it The Lost Waterfall. I was honored to complete his bucket list with him.
“By the way, what we are doing is illegal,”
Josh whispered as we began our trek through the dense island jungle. “Illegal? Jesus man!” This wasn’t like Josh. Normally, he was cut and dry. He must really have wanted to see this waterfall. “Ya, I didn’t tell you but this trek is off-limits unless you have a guide.”
‘Holy God!’
I thought as we hacked through the vines and the wet brush. Now I was nervous and the beer made me want to urinate but I couldn’t. Amy was downstream.
She was in a light coat, I was in shorts and Josh was wearing a light jacket. ‘Were we really ready to do this?’ My mind muttered. Despite being about a three-hour trek from the waterfall, we could still hear its gush. Even as we passed by a mountain meadow with its own weather system.
Soon, we made it to a tunnel. We all took a deep breath and walked through it. “People have done this,” I said as we passed through the man-made hole. “Ya, but it's not for hikers so be careful. Amy, stay close to me.” Josh was getting more cautious as we walked. We could hear the stone talk and the water drip and drop.
As we exited the tunnel, we came to a door. A locked door. A locked door on a mountain pass. It was odd. “Erm, what now, Josh?” I looked back and saw Amy’s face. She had this joyous look of excitement. “Well, we go around it.” “Around it? That drop-off at the side is pretty far, man.” It was far down and I was already coming down from a high. I didn’t need to fall twice this morning. “Just be careful and don’t look down,” Amy suggested. Very helpful.
I tried hanging on to the metal, rusted bars that protruded from the side. I knew if I fell, I’d be done, but I also didn’t want to be the one to give up so early. I dove under the third-lowest bar and managed to swing myself around. A sigh of relief fell over me and then,
“Awh sh*t!”
“What is it?” Josh called out from the other side. “Come around and you'll see,” I shouted back. I waited as Amy and Josh maneuvered past the secret magic jungle door. I pointed to the problem. “How are we supposed to navigate this, man?” Josh heard me but didn’t answer. Ahead of us, the trail had gone and had been replaced by pipes. Wet, slippery pipes. Josh looked back and said, “We can turn back.” That sounded good to me. No point in dying for a waterfall. “No, we can do it!” Amy suddenly chimed in. She had no fear, it seemed. “All right. I’ll go first.” I took a deep breath as I looked down at the drop. If we fell, there would be no help. Not even a helicopter could reach here. ‘Don’t fall, Murph,’ ran through my mind. To be honest, the toxicology report on my corpse scared me more than death.
I slowly dragged my feet across the wet pipes. There wasn’t much point in taking big steps. A slip here meant certain carnage. Luckily, there was a rope that we could use for balance. About halfway across, Amy started to cry. “Amy, it’s easy,” I shouted back. “Just hang onto the ropes and don’t look down!” Josh was behind her. I couldn’t hear, but it seemed that he had given her some words of encouragement, as after a few sniffles, she persevered.
“Well done!” I said as I greeted her at the end of the pipes. “It’s like a f*cked up Super Mario jungle game with em pipes, Pete!” She cried out in her sweet British accent as she wiped away the tears. I had to laugh. What a girl!
After a few more twists and turns, we made it to the fountain.
“There she is,” Josh pointed out as Amy and I looked on in wonderment. It was colossal. The sound of the water was deafening as we realized just why it was off-limits. The rains had turned the fountain into a geyser and the temperature began to fall rapidly as we approached.
A picture exists of the three of us swimming under the gushing waterfall. I have decided not to share it for the privacy of the other two travelers. Suffice to say, it was an experience and I’m Glad josh got to see his waterfall.
After some swimming, photos, and a snack, we made our way back to the car. We were all soaked, cold, and tired but we had achieved the impossible. We had hiked to the lost and forbidden waterfall. I was especially proud as I was half drunk. The weather was turning as we changed back into our clothes and made haste back to the car.
The Car Ride Home
In the dead of night, you can be almost anywhere. You could be in the countryside of Ireland, England, America or France. In the darkness, it doesn’t matter. But on Reunion Island, the moon always reminds you. Its beaming light illuminates the clouds that hug the island's peaks and thin island air drunkens your senses.
Josh was in stoic driver mode as we weaved through the jungle. Amy was asleep. There were no words left to describe our journey. This great deep dive into the Indian Ocean's island nightlife. We all knew that.
So, with nothing left to say, I lit a cigarette, looked up at the great southern hemisphere moon, and thought about The Threesomes, The Waterfalls, and the Edge.
Travel hard and travel far my friends but remember to always come home.
I have been Peter Murphy, and you have just read my stuff.
Threesomes and the Waterfall: Sex on the Edge of Reason