Castries

There are spa treatments-and then there's rolling around half-undressed in volcanic mud that's simmered beneath the earth's crust for thousands of years. At Sulphur Springs in Soufriere, St. Lucia, you're essentially bathing in the Caribbean's bubbling geological underbelly, a steaming cauldron born from a collapsed volcanic crater that's been festering cheerfully for millennia. Arrive early in the morning, ideally at opening hour to dodge sweaty tour groups clambering from cruise buses, and be prepared to embrace your inner swamp creature as you smear thick, mineral-rich sludge across your skin, convinced that detoxification surely must feel less ridiculous than it looks. Plan at least a day ahead and slip $10-$20 into your pocket for entrance fees and tips; bring an old swimsuit, a towel you don't mind ruining, and perhaps a sense of humor. And don't forget sunscreen-the Caribbean sun is indifferent to your spa glow. It's all terrifically absurd, to be honest, but dipping into a boiling volcano-at least metaphorically speaking-is one of those life moments that makes you realize traveling isn't just about glamour shots on beaches. Sometimes, it's about willingly painting yourself charcoal-black, marinating in sulfuric steam, and emerging smelling faintly like rotten eggs and triumph. If nothing else, you'll return home with a completely unforgettable story-and skin so momentarily smooth you'll swear you reverse-aged five years.

If you arrive in Soufriere and don't at least consider hauling your sweating, wheezing self up one of the Pitons, you're probably missing the point. Gros Piton (the larger, friendlier sibling) and Petit Piton (the scrappy, steeper, mildly anxiety-inducing peak) rise abruptly from Saint Lucia's turquoise waters like defiant volcanic fists, daring you up their steep slopes. Either way, you're in for a day that your knees-and possibly your pride-won't soon forget. Start obscenely early, around sunrise, not just for the cooler air but to smugly watch fellow tourists still stumbling down to breakfast as you're already conquering nature. Book a guide a few days in advance because local regulations insist on it-partly for safety, partly to keep travelers from wandering cluelessly into someone's banana grove. Budget around $50-$100 USD per person, depending on your bargaining enthusiasm and level of masochism. Pack sturdy shoes, a liter or two of water, and enough snacks to bribe yourself upward one sweaty step at a time. Why bother? Because the top promises something almost transcendental: sweeping views of emerald ridgelines tumbling dramatically into the Caribbean Sea, the kind of panorama that practically makes you forget your protesting thighs. Plus, there's undeniable bragging rights-climbing a UNESCO World Heritage volcanic spire is indisputably cooler than another afternoon at your resort's swim-up bar.