With cries of "forward you animals!" ringing in our ears, water filling our noses and adrenaline surging through our veins, we soldiered on. It was a day of frantic activity, punctuated by moments of calm, a day when we never quite knew what lay around the next corner...
You could be forgiven for thinking that I had been thrown in at the deep-end on a Royal Marines training exercise in the North Sea, but nothing could be further from the truth. For in between brief bouts of exhilaration, our water-borne transportation became a floating wildlife viewing platform as we eased down Costa Rica’s majestic Pacuare River. This was white-water rafting at its best - and it was fun.
Sandwiched between two of Central America’s most historically turbulent countries, Panama and Nicaragua, Costa Rica gains its reputation for totally different reasons. Words like conservation and adventure have become synonymous with a nation that houses 5% of the world’s bio-diversity across only 0.1% of the world’s landmass. It’s no surprise that the last few years have brought an explosion in numbers of foreign visitors in search of wildlife and adventure.
My rafting adventures formed just one element of a two-week holiday that saw me mountain biking along the trails of the Pacific Coast, hiking the Continental Divide, and sea kayaking off Costa Rica’s wild virgin shores. It was my second visit to the country, and on this occasion my objective was to sample for myself what Costa Rica had to offer the adventure traveller.
Team spirit, uplifting landscapes and an abundance of wildlife serve to lighten the load in the face of a gruelling 14km mountain bike climb. The chosen route begins in Manuel Antonio National Park, a paradise of white sand beaches, white-faced monkeys and three-toed sloths, and finishes in the protected rainforest reserve of Tortuguero on the Caribbean coast. Between the two coasts lies the small issue of the Continental Divide. The rugged spine of Costa Rica provides the major hurdle to hike and bike over, with 2300m representing the trip’s highest point. From there it’s all downhill to the Caribbean... well almost!
One of my most lasting memories of the trip took place on the Pacific coast on the morning of my travelling companion’s 30th birthday. Mike tapped on our tent at the unearthly hour of 5am and urged us to drag ourselves onto the beach. Before us stood an American with a plastic bag. He was from the nearby sea turtle sanctuary and was releasing around 200 hatchlings into the wild. As he lay the bag down on the sand, the young turtles (each little larger than a 50 pence piece) proceeded to fight their way towards the water. This kind of magical experience is not uncommon in Costa Rica.
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