The Misty Mountain in Surinam looks down on us mystically. She looks tall and fierce and full of confidence, irresistible. She’s been on my bucket list since I’ve known Ashu. His parents grew up in Surinam in South America, before they settled in the Netherlands, and they’ve been telling us beautiful stories about that time. As you can guess, I’ve wanted to travel here to see the country with my own eyes and learn more about its past and their Indian-Surinamese culture. So here we are in the jungle looking out over the Kabalebo River, his parents with family in the main city, Paramaribo.

“A very impressive climb through the jungle to the top that you won’t easily forget,” the colorful leaflet promoting the area says. It shows beautiful pictures of the animals and insects that live here looking as curious as the people watching them. We’ve seen baby turtles, butterflies, and gigantic trees on our walk the day before to see the wreckage of a plane crash that happened decades ago. A scene from the movies.
“It looks like an impressive climb,” I whisper to no one.
The mountain is too misty for most people in the eco resort surrounded by lush jungle. Only John, a seventy-year-old butterfly lover from the Netherlands, Ashu, and I are tempted. Well, they want to go; I’m tempted. They only go up if I do. Great.
“It’s a minimum of five hours walking of which more than half is uphill. Did you even read that?” the devil on my left shoulder says the moment he lands on my shoulder. He looks at me, bristly black eyebrows raised, as if this task is crystal clear. He doesn’t blink once. “And that’s for fit and trained people!” He spits when saying it.
I must admit I don’t have the fittest body of my life at the moment. And that’s the understatement of the year. On some days I even struggle walking upstairs and I’m ready for a power nap halfway through my morning walks. Ugh, how can I decide?
“Oh, pleaaaasssssseeeeee. Look at that beautiful mountain. Look up! How often do you have the chance to climb something like that?” The cute devil on my right shoulder comes to the rescue. Her eyes are bigger and bluer than I remember from the last time she showed up. “You’ve been mainly focused on your body lately, it’s time to nurture the mind. You know the mind has a lot of power over the body, don’t you? Don’t forget that. Besides, it’s not that you’ll get fit anytime soon by not doing it,” she continues breathlessly as if someone will cut her off soon.
She might have a point there. I can tell Ashu’s excited to go but he isn’t going to tell me what to do. I’m the only one who can make the decision. It’s eight o’clock, I have fifteen minutes left to decide to go up or stay here just gazing upon it. I look at him hoping he will give me a sign.
“You know your body best, babe. It’s up to you.” Shit, I’m on my own.

I do know my body, that’s the whole problem. I look at John. He sits in the lounge chair, legs crossed, a strong black coffee in his hand, eating the last bits of a chocolate cookie. John and his wife climbed the mountain once before and say it’s amazingly beautiful. His wife doesn’t trust her body enough to join, but John wants to climb the mountain one more time. To prove his body can still do this and to see that one special butterfly he missed the last time. He’s relaxed, staring off into the forest. From the wooden balcony, I weight the pros and cons on the list I always keep in my mind. I stand up, stretch my legs, and get another cup of tea, following John’s example and adding a chocolate cookie. When I sit down on the couch again, I look at Ashu and John, and I know what to do.
“You know what?” I say to myself. “F*** the body. Long live the mind. It’s my birthday. I just turned forty-one, not eighty-one. I’m going to climb that misty mountain to celebrate,” the words come out louder and louder.
John reminds me he’s seventy and not as fast as he used to be. He tells me we’ll do it at my pace. I nod but I don’t believe a word he says as I note his professional gear. But I trust them to take it easy.
“What would your cardiologist say if she knew?” the left shoulder devil’s voice slowly fades into the distance. He tries to come back but I ignore him. I’m not going to tell her, obviously.

They’re right, I won’t easily forget this climb. It takes us eight adventurous hours to climb the Misty Mountain exploring the untouched rainforest along small paths with ropes and high steps. We duck under wild branches growing wherever they can, observe brown eagles circling above the treetops, laugh at loud groups of monkeys, take countless pictures to never forget, eat sandwiches and rest at lazy rocks, and admire special butterflies, except the one we’re eager to find.
I feel unbeatable standing on top of the legend, tears in my eyes. John and I high-five without saying a word. Trembling legs take us back down in an hour, with a backpack full of new memories, wisdom, and pictures. They almost started a rescue mission, but we did it. I did it!

It takes me four days to recover from this unforgettable climb. Four tough days, but totally worth the memory of it. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. The battle between my body and mind is a regular one and mostly favors my body. The body does often influence the mind, but I shouldn’t underestimate the mind. Not for a second. She has a lot of positive power. Reality has proven to me before that if my mind is optimistic and powerful and fixed on a goal, my body might follow.
And that’s the route I’m taking, uphill or not. No matter what everybody’s saying.