Monteverde – Day 1: Adventure at Extremo
MONTEVERDE
Day 1: Adventure at Extremo
January 19, 2023
One shuttle, a ferry ride across Lago Arenal, and another shuttle later, I finally reached my second destination in Costa Rica – Monteverde. I’d be staying in a hostel a bit far from the centre, the décor almost as White Gurl as The Space in San Juan del Sur.
While on travel days I usually like to take it slow, the fresh, cool weather of Monteverde was a much-welcome change, and I was all abuzz to get on with my day. And what better way than going to an adventure park? One of the main attractions in the area, Monteverde Extremo Park is renowned for ziplining and bungee jumping.
I, for one, was never much of a fan of ziplining up until this. I usually think it’s kinda boring and not great value for money, considering it doesn’t fill me with as much adrenaline as you’d expect, and the views last only a few seconds. But with my FOMO, I couldn’t live with myself if I passed this up. With only a few minutes to go before the shuttle arrived, I managed to drag along Chris – the most well-natured Canadian guy I’ve ever met – and Rachel, an Irish doctor I’d met in La Fortuna. At least I’d be miserable in company if the park turned out to be underwhelming!
Tarzan Swing Therapy
The second we got there, I ran to reception to confirm I could actually do the bungee, having never had the opportunity before.
It’d be $80, according to the guy at the desk. I knew Costa Rica would be expensive – hell, I had budgeted for every single thing before even leaving for my trip – but this was another level of expensive. No wonder backpackers call this place the Switzerland of Latin America. I’m talking “my credit card laughing at me every time I try to use it” kinda expensive. I swear, the staff at my bank probably thought I’d gone mad with all the money I spent over there. Guess that’s what happens when you have a country catering to a very specific cohort of tourists, huh?
In fact, during my whole trip I met many a backpacker who sped through Costa Rica because it was too expensive – and now I kinda got them. I still remember changing my itinerary to accommodate my extra-long stay in Honduras and realising I’d save at least a grand for every week I cut from Costa Rica. Insane! That said, I wouldn’t call it a poor investment. Apart from all the crazy adventures to be had and the incredible wildlife to be observed, the money here often seems to be put to good use. I’ve genuinely yet to encounter another place where the natural reserves feel so well maintained.
As soon as everyone had their tickets, we were shown to the equipment room, where we were sized up and given our gear. As per bungee protocol, I was also weighed – for the first time since I started travelling. By that point, I’d lost a full ten kilograms. No wonder my friends kept telling me I looked thinner and thinner every time we’d videochat!
Then, as always, we were given a briefing. I assured Rachel, who by that point was wrecked by nerves and anxiety, that everything would be fine – boring even. Boy, was I wrong. This park changed my mind on ziplining completely. It was pure fun, excitement, and adrenaline – especially the one-kilometre cable (with Rachel having to monkey-climb halfway through after she stopped prematurely) and the Superman zipline, where we were strapped to the cable headfirst – so, so cool.
Then came the main event – the Tarzan swing. I climbed onto a platform and got strapped into the contraption before being lowered a metre or so. Then, without a moment’s notice, they let me go. I honestly have no idea what I felt at that point. It was like my body dropped, while my head stayed up there, stationary – kinda like Wile E. Coyote when he steps off a cliff by mistake. First I dropped in a straight line, and then, the second I could finally process what had just happened, I started swinging forward. Then… then it was pure exhilaration – a high unlike any other. Very few things have made me feel that way, and the only comparison I can think of is riding a dune buggy over the sand dunes in Huacachina, Peru. Pure, unadulterated fun. The definition of pura vida!
A couple of profanities and pendular motions later, and I was back on solid ground. I genuinely didn’t want it to end. I could’ve done that for hours. I felt infinite – with the truest smile on my face, my heart pumping like there’s no tomorrow – and this huge rush of gratitude for getting to experience something like that. Also, some confusion over who the hell even comes up with these things. Don’t get me wrong, I’m profoundly grateful to whoever that was.
The $80 Plunge
Still buzzing after the swing, I had one more thing waiting for me – the bungee jump! As Chris and Rachel sent me off – pretty much the same way you’d expect people to be sent off to war – I found myself wondering how on earth anything could top the feeling I experienced on the Tarzan Swing. The guys from the park assured me it would. And so I rolled with it.
They guided me onto a metal platform above a valley and, as they helped me gear up, it began to move automatically out towards the centre. “It’s simple,” the guide told me. “All you have to do is jump with your hands in front of you, then spread them apart and enjoy the jump. You’re gonna go up and down a few times, and when you stop, we’ll throw you a rope. You have to attach it to your waist strap using the O-ring.” And that was pretty much it.
Without thinking too much, I took the plunge and did exactly as they said, all the while wondering whether I was actually doing what they’d told me to do. As I went down, it was more confusing than anything else – not knowing whether I should be doing anything while my entire body bobbed up and down. It was great, not gonna lie, but it was also a bit less exhilarating than the Tarzan swing, if you ask me.
As I hung there with blood rushing to my head, I again found myself wondering who, in their right mind, invents stuff like this. I didn’t have much time to think about the answer – or soak in the view of the mountainside as the sun dropped behind the valley, painting the jungle in this dreamlike orange hue – because pretty soon the guides threw the rope. It took me ages to grab it, always missing by a metre or so as I swung away from it and it swung away from me. The second I finally caught it, I clutched it like my life depended on it (for all I know, it might have). Then I hauled it in, and when I finally had the O-ring in my hands, I clipped it to my waist strap and gave the OK sign, signalling them to start pulling me up.
Was it fun? Yeah. Was it better than the Tarzan swing? No. Was it worth the extra $80? Doubt it. But at least, I can say I crossed off yet another thing on my never-ending bucket list. By the end, Rachel was absolutely buzzing – super happy and proud that she’d gotten over her fear of heights and ziplines – and Chris was so enthralled by the whole thing that he decided to go for it again the following day. I, on the other hand, revelled in my post-Tarzan Swing coma.