What comes to mind when you hear the name “The Mushroom House”? Something like a fanciful children’s playhouse or a quaint tiny restaurant? There is a lot more to this hidden gem than what first appears. It serves as a serene haven from the bustle of the city and a monument to the effectiveness of sustainable living.
The Mushroom House is an underground home run entirely off the grid, and it’s owned by a brave young woman. It embodies an exquisite fusion of contemporary sustainability and conventional inventiveness, demonstrating a profound respect for the natural environment.
Living off the grid is a significant statement of independence that goes beyond just deviating from the norm. It necessitates a degree of resourcefulness and fortitude that our contemporary world frequently overlooks. However, this young woman takes these obstacles head-on and, with unflinching persistence, transforms them into a brilliantly realized reality.
The Mushroom House is a representation of all that is essential to life, not just a place to dwell. It reminds us that we are capable of taking care of ourselves in more ways than we usually give ourselves credit for. This underground sanctuary is a brilliant example of coexisting with the natural world because it embraces sustainable techniques and uses the power of the natural world.
Enter this fascinating universe where fantasy and reality collide. Discover the beauty of coexisting with nature by exploring The Mushroom House.
This Caribbean Island Is Back From the Brink—and Ready To Share Its Treasures With the World
Every product that appears on Condé Nast Traveler has been hand-picked by our editors. However, we might receive an affiliate commission if you make a purchase using one of our retail links.
The paintings of Italian-born artist Agostino Brunias, who made a profession of depicting the island in subdued, stylized settings that covered up the harsh realities of colonial control, were my first visual introduction to Dominica. However, as soon as I step onto its winding roads, which begin to twist shortly after I arrive, it becomes evident that this region, which is situated in the center of the Lesser Antilles’ curve, is anything but tame. The two-toned leaves of its bois canot trees, which change color from green to white when they sway in the wind, shimmer and bristle with the power of the volcano. It lulls with the erratic sound of its numerous waterfalls, scatters rainbows haphazardly across its breathtaking horizons, and enchants from the depths with its vibrant coral reefs. And it roars come storm season.
The indigenous Kalinago people of Dominica survived invasion by the French and British, who imposed slavery on the Africans who now make up four-fifths of the island’s population and left a linguistic legacy of English and French-based Creole, by mastering the lush tropical rainforest that covers more than 60% of the island. If you visit Trinidad for roti and Jamaica for jerk, you should travel to Dominica for green things like bush rum and flower teas. There are a ton of medicinal herbs in the forest.
The Jungle Bay Dominica resort, located smack dab in the center of the Soufrière jungles, leans into nature instead, maybe realizing the futility of fighting against the earth’s generosity. When I finally get there, the kitchen is closed. Joanne Hilaire, the operations manager, tells me that they never let guests go hungry, though, so I can feel the warmth of Dominica’s welcome. The cook is preparing an excellently stewed dish of beans with taro, rice, and plantain for our late dinner, off the menu, while I have a refreshing ginger-lime cocktail that is a local favorite. When I wake up the following morning, I find that my villa’s doors open onto a private veranda that faces southwest toward Soufrière Bay, where the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean converge. I let the light wake me for the remainder of my stay by leaving my blinds open.
Leave a Reply