White water rafting has to be one of the most fun things you can do on a trip, it is by far our favourite holiday adventure activity. We did our first raft ride on a river in Thailand back in 1991, but that we on a bamboo raft but I got the bug for flying down rivers and going through the rapids.
Our rafting history
The first chance for white water rafting was the River Tully in Queensland, Australia. That was exactly how I imagined it to be, with warm water, dropping over waterfalls and ending up in the river at every opportunity, though the sight of baby crocodiles sat on rocks watching us didn’t help with the confidence.
Since then, we have rafted on 4 different continents, and probably the most exciting was the Kali Gandackie in Nepal, an epic trip that I will relate at come point in the future. So, when we see white water rafting as an option, we always check it out, and in Costa Rica there seemed to be lots of options.
A bit of research led us to the River Pascuare being the best rapids, the trips are classed by their difficulty. Class 5 rapids are the hardest that can be run commercially, this was what we ran in Nepal. The Pacuare River had Class 4 rapids, so it was going to be exciting, and the trip was organised by Excuriones GTE.
The obvious other factor to consider is water level. Costa Rica has just started it’s rainy season, so though the water levels were quite low, this meant there would be more rocks to navigate (high river levels just go over the rocks so it can be easier), with the recent heavy overnight rain there was a lot of fresh water speeding up the river.
Rafting is dangerous
The thing about rafting is that it is dangerous and people do die. The rivers are powerful, and people can get trapped in rocks, under the rafts, or other obstacles and the power of the water just pushes them under, so the safety briefings are really important, and they were great on this trip. The rafts are accompanied by kayakers who are there to help in emergencies, and they also make useful photographers !
We set off with our crew of 5 people, in a 6 person raft. The way these runs go is that some of the best rapids are at the top of the river where you board. This is because the river is narrower and higher up, so you are into the big rapids almost immediately, which wakes everyone up.
The big rapids start early
The guys at the front get the wettest as they are being hit by all the waves, so they provide protection for the rest of the crew, they are also the people most likely to be thrown over the side by a wave. Wooksie and I took up positions at the front as we and done it before and took the biggest battering in the first half of the trip. In the second half Wooksie swapped with Anny from Barcelona who was clearly up for getting wet and having lots of fun too.
This is the only water sport I have ever known Wooksie get involved with, and she has an amazing track record of staying in the raft whatever the circumstances, I have tried to drag her over the side unsuccessfully on every trip but she is like a limpet attached to a rock.
This river didn’t have any waterfalls, but it had a lot of rapids with the water flowing over and around the boulders really fast. The excitement started straight from the start with a choppy Class 3 rapid to get us going from the start and bring reality to the team on their first run.
The river battered us for most of the 3 hours we were on the water. Some rivers you have sections where you drift along without much to do but we had white water bubbling around us all the way down thanks to the heavy rain on the previous nights.
Beautiful scenery along the way
The cool thing about rafting is you travel through really remote areas, and we saw loads of wildlife, in particular birds, hanging around on the edge of the river hunting for their lunches. There are also villages for the indigenous people that have been living on the river end for hundreds of years, so it is not just the adrenalin stuff.
Being cramped up in the raft can be pretty uncomfortable as you are twisted to face forward whilst your legs are locked under straps and flotation bags. The break after 90 minutes and a stretch on the beach was very welcome even if it took us about 2 minutes to recover the ability to stand up straight and walk again.
Class 3 rapid video
Then we were into the second section of the river and the ride home. This included two fantastic runs through sheer canyons which made for dramatic scenery as it squeezed the water into the narrow gaps at high pressure, so the waves and obstacles were flying past.
This video is of a Class 3 rapid near the end of the ride.
And then we finished up with a Level 4 through the canyon to finish the day in style.
Eventually we reached the end of the run back at the rafting company HQ and ready for a nice lunch, talk about the excitement with our new rafting mates and a sleep on the coach in the way home. The rafting company had taken some great photos on the trip, and I had been experimenting with my new GoPro, so we have some videos as well.
After the excitement over more overnight tropical storm, howling monkeys and flooded bars we headed off to the Cahuita National Park. We had struggled to find an organised trip that didn’t involve snorkelling, so we drove up to the park ourselves.
A chat with the ranger on the gate and we soon had ourselves a guide organised, and we set off. Surprisingly, in the opposite direction to the park, but the guide clearly knew what he was doing and pointed out an owl that looked exactly like the tree it was sleeping in, its camouflage was amazing.
The guide then had us staring all over a tree looking for an iguana which was right in front of our eyes, but almost invisible. We then set off along a 2km long boardwalk that was built through the swamp to enable tourists to see the wildlife without wading through danger and all the snakes and other nasties that live in the swamp.
The other highlight was this little yellow worm which seemed harmless enough but turned out to be e baby viper, already with all its venom loaded ready to go.
I was a bit surprised at the lack of wildlife on show, but that is the problem with nature, it isn’t cooperative. The main even was a troop of cappuccino monkeys who are a deeply unpleasant creature. They are very territorial and seem to attack pretty much anything that comes along, including tourists.
Cappucinno monkeys
When we (and other tourists) stopped in their territory, they surrounded us in the tree ready to attack so it was wise to keep moving. Apparently, these monkeys even rape the Howler Monkey females, probably in the hope that they stop screeching at night,
At the end of the boardwalk the guide took his cash, and relieved me of an addition £7 cost he didn’t have any change – it isn’t just the monkeys that are dodgy.
The trek then continued along the deserted coastline, but by now we had seen quite a bit of deserted beaches, and we did get to see a little raccoon hanging around.
Now if the daytime was a bit boring, the night time certainly wasn’t with a range of creepy crawlies that seemed to belong to nightmares more than our world, but here are a few shots of these amazing creatures of the night that came alive when the sun went down.
We could hear the frog in the daytime, but as it is completely translucent, it is impossible to see it in the daylight, but at night it’s eerie glow appears in the torch light.
This scorpian is only visible when a blue light is focused on it.
Howling monkeys and a visit from nature in Porto Viejo.
After San Jose we headed to Porto Viejo, it turned into a 6-hour drive to cover 120 miles thanks to it being their public holiday and a new road being constructed by a few blokes with pickaxes.
It was worth the drive when we saw the Caribbean beaches and pulled up into our Eco-friendly hotel. When we say ecofriendly, it was basically in the middle of the jungle. Wooksie looked particularly alarmed at the proximity to nature and the potential for insects and panicked when I opened a window to look outside.
We stayed at the Cariblue Beach and Jungle Resort. The hotel is very unusual, the whole place is in the jungle and made out of bits of the jungle, everything is wood and ecofriendly. That is OK other than it would have been nice to have a kettle so we can have a cup of tea in the morning.
So, an evening in a beach bar, sushi and listening to a decent DJ helped us get over the journey and ready for the fun to begin. In the middle of the night, nature took over, there was an almighty racket when two gangs (troops) of Howler Monkeys started to have a row about territorial rights over the hotel trees.
They are called Howler Monkeys for a reason, what a bloody racket and it went on all night until it was time for breakfast.
Our first sloth
Up early, we were off on our Sloth Hunt, which involved a walk through a bit of forest and a kayak ride through the jungle. The Sloths were quite accommodating, and we spotted a couple almost immediately on the walk, then we found a troop of Howler Monkeys, who looked rather exhausted and docile, presumably after their overnight punch up at our hotel.
We drifted through the jungle, Wooksie had her first kayak ride and saw lots of turtles and stuff but apparently, we aren’t allowed to eat Sloths, just look at them, which is a bit of a shame. I suspect that we are going to see an awful lots of Sloths, but it is quite exciting when you see the first ones.
We then settled into another beautiful evening on the beach, listening to tunes and drinking cocktails. I noticed on the horizon a few clouds with great storm pillars in them, which I noted and then forgot.
Visit from the Weather God
We had just finished a lovely meal when the waiter approached and asked us if we would like a table inside – “no thanks mate, we are British, a little rain is fine”.
Soon the few drops became a little more incessant, I assured Wooksie it was nothing to worry about, just a passing shower and nothing to worry about.
The rain then got heavier,, so we opted to sit under a grass shelter and continue with our evening, listening to the music and chatting.
Unexpectedly, and to my surprise, the rain got even heavier. At this point, the DJ was forcibly removed by the bar owner due to the imminent threat of him being electrocuted by the rain storm, and specifically the lightening.
We also noted that there was now a stream running under our table, and within minutes, there was definitely a river running under out table.
At this point Wooksie enquired as to whether I had a plan, which luckily, I did. I tried to attract the waiter to order a couple more cocktails. Wooksie intervened and asserted the need for a plan to get home, not another drink. We decided to make a dash for it and became immediately soaked as soon as stepped out from the shade.
The whole world had flooded while we were sat at that table, it was like there had been a biblical event while we were discussing important matters like which was our favourite beach bar in the world.
We waded through the floods and discussed whether we might need an Ark in the morning rather than a kayak. Luckily I lent Wooksie my hat to keep her dry.
So, we arrived back at the eco friendly which was now an under water hotel, and we were grateful that we were on the first floor not ground level, though any snakes or creatures that were on the ground would surely have drowned.
On the bright side, this should make for a much more exciting white water rafting expedition on Monday!
I guess the lesson from the trip out from London is don’t fly via the US to get anywhere, Newark airport is now on my blacklist along with Paris airport.
When we finally got here after 24 hours travelling it was typically clunky, and we could have done without being given a room next to the motorway by Radisson, but it’s all sorted now, and we are happy again.
My mate Jason Cole told me not to bother with San Jose because there was nothing to do there, as normal I ignored advice.
How wrong he was, we found a walking tour of the best sights that included TWO markets, eating strange fruit, chocolate and coffee tasting and we even cooked ourselves a meal in a café, and this tour generally proved that there is actually nothing much to do here.
We did learn that in Costa Rica their version of an orange is actually yellow, and moreover it tastes of absolutely nothing – which is weird.
So we went for a beer and watched the parrots giving the pigeons a bit of an airborne kicking in the park.
Clearly the Spanish and Portuguese weren’t interested and gave it a miss but at least we proved Jason’s theory, so tomorrow we have a long drive down to Porto Viejo on the Caribbean coast and then we go sloth hunting, by canoe, in the forest on Saturday, hopefully we will bag a couple for tea.
Les Carroz, French Gremlins and downhill mountain bike records
After the success of my Winter Season in the Alps and all that snowboarding, I decided that I would try the same with my other passion, mountain biking. The lifts are open for the summer French holidays, July and August, and the bigger resorts open for June as well.
My first visit was a family summer holiday 10 years ago, I loved the mountains and all the activities but unfortunately, I went home with broken ribs from a crash. I’d been back a few times since, normally bringing a mate along. I’d end up being more of a tour guide around the routes and annoyingly, they would be faster than me on the straight bits and invariably get lost.
Solo mountain biking
Consequently I would then waste a lot of time trying to find them so I wasn’t too fussed that I was going to be on my own, but it has to be recognised that downhill mountain biking is dangerous against pretty much any criteria, so I was mindful of the fact this could all go horribly wrong if I had a serious crash, minor crashes are a daily event but it’s often a very fine line between minor and major.
In preparation for my summer of fun, I’d invested in new Enduro bike because having the right gear is essential. This started as a plan to buy a second-hand bike to avoid the expensive rentals, but a great deal on a new one appeared so I bought it. It was a beaty, much better than the rental bikes so I was really looking forward to cracking on.
10 days and a 1000 miles after my mountain biking adventures on the borders of Scotland came to an end, I found myself in the French Alps at the home of one of Europe’s downhill mountain biking meccas, namely Morzine.
Technically I was in the next valley over, Morillon, which is part of the Grand Massif. It is also a mecca for those crazy road riding dudes who seemed to take fun in pedalling up the mountains. The mountain bikers as a smarter breed and use the lift systems as their means for getting up the mountains. They have also renamed themselves Enduro riders, is less of a mouthful and sounds cooler.
The drive down was complicated
A new first for me was the drive down from Bristol, as my wife wasn’t very interested in being an Enduro widow and she declined the offer to keep me company on the journey, so I had to do it on my own. This wasn’t without incident, normally we go via Dover, but I didn’t fancy a 14-hour drive on my own, so I booked the ferry from Portsmouth, so I had an overnight kip and a fresh start. The driving time was due to be 8 hours, so not much different to Calais.
What I hadn’t noticed was there was two ferry routes into France, and I booked the wrong one. We landed at Cherbourg not Caen, I set my Satnav and it said TWELVE hours, my heart sank, where had the other 4 hours come from, I just assumed it was a hold up and in the absence of any other options I set off, I worked out that about 1 hour additional time was due to Cherbourg rather than Caen.
I settled in for a very long day on the road with a heavy heart. I noticed that my route left the motorway and took me south on A roads towards Paris and even more depressingly, I noticed Bordeaux appear on some of the long-range signs, Bordeaux is as far from the Alps as anywhere in France. As I chewed over these unexpected developments in my mind it occurred to me that maybe the Iphone Satnav might be playing tricks, as there is more than one town with the name of my destination, so I cancelled the trip and reset it.
Then we found the source of the problem, the Iphone offered the fastest trip, but I hadn’t realised it offered the fastest trip WITHOUT toll roads. A quick change of settings and suddenly I was 3 hours closer to Morillon that I expected, absolutely wonderful, my world was a happier place. Unfortunately, quite a bit of damage had been done to the timescale by taking me west of Paris and it ended up being 10 hours, but still better than 12 hours.
What most people don’t realise is that the Alps are very hot in the summer, so I arrived at the end of a hot day and temperatures that felt like 30 degrees. I emptied the car of all the gear, including my brand-new mountain bike and put my feet up on the balcony, had a warm beer and crashed out. Luckily, I had bought one of those Dyson cool fans with me and it got to work on the heat.
First Gremlin attack
Next day, glorious sunshine and after spending the morning getting this sorted out, I decided it was time to test out my new bike. So, in the heat, I put on all the protective gear and collected the bike from the garage sweating buckets. The lift is only 50m from the apartment, so I pedalled around in all the gear to the lift and noticed something wasn’t quite right.
The lift was stationary, and the ticket office was closed, what on earth was going on. I checked in at the Tourist Information, the opening date had been delayed saving money. It opened officially, the day I was coming home. Not to worry, the lift at Les Carroz was open on the other side of the mountain.
Obviously, those Gremlins that had haunted my trip around the bike rides in the north of England had migrated to France, or the Gremlin jungle drums had got the local French Gremlins on my case.
Now I required the car, which was sat in the sun and showing 35c as the outside temperature and heaven knows what on the inside. In all the gear, strip the bike down, pack it in the car, jump in and drive for 30 mins, still with most of the gear on and sweating.
30 minutes later I arrive in Les Carroz after a drive through the winding mountain roads only inhabited by agricultural machinery and redundant Italian racing car drivers. As I approached the lifts I glanced up, and to my horror, the lift wasn’t moving. I could not believe my eyes, this cannot be.
I drove up to gondola station, surely this lift wasn’t closed as well. I parked outside the ticket office and walked over, it was clearly not open, it was as shut as a shut ticket office can be. I rested against the bonnet of the car and seriously considered crying as well as sweating, before driving back to Morillon. Those French Gremlins were having a right laugh today.
As I sat there, I heard a metallic clanking sound followed by a whirring noise from the direction of the lifts. I walked around the side of the building, and to my delight the lift had started running – we are all systems go and stuff you Gremlins.
Time to rip up the trails
I parked up, assembled the bike, got padded up and pedalled over to the lift ready sweating profusely. Except for one thing, I couldn’t find my lift pass. Those Gremlins had taken it out of my pocket and left it back in the apartment, but I wasn’t to be stopped, straight up to the little ticket booth and bought a one-day pass, we are off.
Finally, 2 hours later, I arrive at the top of the Les Carroz gondola ready to go. All the mountains have spectacular views and this is no exception, as always it takes me time to enjoy the serenity before heading down the runs.
For the first time I was here on my own, I didn’t have to take a mate on a tour of the runs for a change. The French grading system is different, all the runs are incredibly steep, running through trees, with technical section and large berms (banked turns).I was never able to do the very difficult black runs (jumps and serious danger) though there are normally routes around the big obstacles, I was capable enough on the red runs, going carefully, these tend to be gnarly and difficult, so more of a challenge that a pleasure, which left the blue runs. Wider, faster, challenging but most of all, fun.
This was probably my 4th trip to this bike park and as I stood there, armed with the right equipment and relatively empty slopes, I decided that I was going to stick to the blues. At my age I’m not going to get much better, the difficult stuff is more dangerous on my own, so I would just do the blue runs and get to know them a bit better.
Most sports folks use an app called Strava. It records your times against previous visits, and it also grades you against other athletes against various categories. I don’t tend to look at my comparisons because I am normally somewhere in the average category which isn’t particularly motivational. However, last summer, I turned 65 and I happened to look where I sat in the all time Over 65 categories, and I was rather pleased to note that I was quite near the top of this category, clearly the competition was either dying off, had been seriously injured and retired, or had finally grown up. So, I had a target, to be the fastest old bloke on the mountain.
Les Carroz bike park is a little gem. Within 10 miles are some of the most famous bike parks in the world and dwarf this one, but it is being expanded but it only has about 6 runs and they are fabulous. They mix cross country and technical Enduro riding with the adrenalin pumping of steep down hill drops that take you from the top, across the forests and back down to the car park in about 15 minutes of jarring, bouncing and skidding excitement.
The first section of the Wood Rider runs from the Gondola through the woods and into some complicated berms that are more like being in a corkscrew as they twist around and get steeper. One of the problems at the moment is they are very very dry, so the sections where people are breaking are becoming very soft so they are like hitting a sand bunker, so if you don’t get it right you are over the handle bars before you know it, happened to me a few times until you know where they are.
Woodbiker trail
Second section is a run into the woods that is traversing the mountain and involves lots of twists and turns rather than speed, but it is all about keeping the bike balanced and keeping up momentum. When it is wet this can more complicated as there are streams running down of rocks that make things very slippery, but that wasn’t a problem on this trip.
Third section takes us back to the car park and involves much faster and steeper sections with more obstacles and “features” including flat tops so you can get some air under the wheels as you take off a little.
Fastest oldie on the mountain
So, at the end of the afternoon, and equipped with my new bike, all the frustration was gone. A wonderful afternoon blasting through the forests and Janner Boy is now the fastest old bloke on the mountain, having set the fastest times since the park opened in 2016 – yessss.
Les Gets, La Chatel and Avoriaz still to come, but today is going to be difficult to beat.
