Canyoning was a mindblowing and wet, adrenaline-filled adventure, and none of us will ever forget it. It could be described as white water rafting without the raft, or pure insanity.
On the way to the waterfalls, we met our canyoning guide; Tang. A wonderfully crazy guy who would provide training, and comic relief throughout the day. When we arrived, we were stylishly outfitted in harnesses, helmets, gloves and bright orangelifejackets, before learning and practicing how to repel. Or abseil as the brits call it. Each one of us canyoned down a pine tree as practice a few times, or in other words, we jumped “HARDER” down a steep hill backwards with only a harness and the beloved Tang securing our lives.
Just as we were beginning not to feel like total idiots about our repelling techniques, we began canyoning down a real, 30 foot waterfall. My stomach was in knots as Karen, Patrick, Leanna, and Topher jumped down the waterfall with only a rope for support, but as each of them landed safely with giant smiles beaming 30 feet below, I knew it would be okay.
The “massage” rapids were next, as our guide called them. Tang sent us sailing headfirst down a small, but intimidating rapid with one hand behind our head for protection, and another plugging our nose.
When we saw our next obstacle, an 80 foot pounding waterfall, we realized the first two were child’s play. But before we had to woman up to the task, we were able to enjoy a delicious sandwich and fruit lunch provided by, the one and only, Taaaaaaang. As we swallowed the last of the fresh watermelon and mango, we heard the screams of the scared British girl before us, descending down the terrifying waterfall.
She was beginning to hit the half way point, where the canyoneer would no longer be able to look up anymore because of the heavy downpour of water, and was screaming that she didn’t want to do it. That was really the only point in the day where I thought I might not be able to do it, but when she completed her descent unharmed, I was ready to go.
We had to walk carefully in the beginning, as the cliff face was slick with rushing water. Then, once we were harnessed in, we began our slow walking descent. At the half way point, we were no longer able to look up as there was so much water pounding onto our faces, so we half blindly slid ourselves down until their was no more rope left. Once we reached the end of the rope, we would have to jump down a 2 meter height into the icy water. As I prepared to jump during my turn, I suddenly lost grip of the rope, and smacked into the water.
Our final repel was down a waterfall ominously called the washing machine. There, after a few meters you are no longer able to touch the wall with your feet and you have to lower yourself into the rushing water, which starts to push and spin you around, hence the name. It’s crazy because you’re hanging on a rope but, with the waterfall rushing over your body, you’re technically under water. And once you’re in the water, you have to quickly lower yourself or you’ll spin like crazy, which is what happened to me!
Once we all survived the washing machine, we took a short but steep hike back to the road and had a sleepy van ride back to our hostal.