We found a boy with a machete to cut a way through the jungle to take us to see a waterfall. I wish it were less sketchy than it sounds, but it’s not.
We were supposed to be fishing on Lake Arenal in Costa Rica. But, the wind had other ideas. So, Plan B? A “horseback ride to a waterfall”. My mind is conjuring up images of a peaceful, smooth horseback ride down to a quaint waterfall, a splash in the water, then back on the horse and to the barn. This picture encapsulates my mental image. (Also, there’s the lake I should’ve been fishing in the background.)
Or that they would need the aforementioned machete to slice through the jungle to create a “path” that would could “walk” (read: slide) down.
These poor guys had to switch spots to constantly be in front of me to help me every step of the way. I know this because they kept talking to each other and saying “ella”, which I knew was me because I was the only girl in our group of 4.
I only fell down twice, and laughed through most of it, as the ridiculousness of what we were doing kept setting in more and more.
So, here’s me, not thinking about what I’m actually getting myself into. What’s new?