Canyoning in Cabeceiras de Basto

Each key stroke taunts my aching lats on bruised ribs, but grinning hugely, I have to share this tale. We went canyoning yesterday afternoon and it was one of my bestest experiences.

Jos drove us to the drop off zone some 15 kms from Quinta D’ Alijo, where we’d been kitted out with helmets, wetsuits and harnasses.

Sweltering in 30+ degrees, we climbed down next to the bridge and happily ensconsced ourselves in chilly spring water. Guided by two local outdoor experts, we were gently navigated over slippery rocks and shin-high water.

Marc, Dianne, Lex, and Roel joined Rob, Marcel, Naomi, Jessica and me in the task of following the creek 2 km’s downstream. Marc and his kids looked like navy seals compared to the squealing and giggling from Naomi, Jessica and me.

Fortunately as the rocks became boulders and the stream flowed deeper and stronger, we managed to find our balance and pick up the pace. Mesmerising electric blue dragonflies distracted me enough to slip over yet another rock.

Feeling more and more like Indiana Jones, we dropped in between boulders and waded through rushing water. Abandoned mill houses replicating the tarantula scene with silvery cobwebs glinting in dappled sunlight.

The waterfalls got taller until we reached a large boulder with nowhere to go. The guides started digging in their bags and we wondered what was next. They tied a couple of ropes to a tree and stood next to the waterfall’s edge. “If you want, you can watch what we do and try it yourself.” They explained some safety stuff and jumped into the water. 5 or 6 metres isn’t normally considered a cliff, but when you’re leaning over, that felt just like Dover.

Marcel went first and I took his pic. He caught the camera and I took my turn. Without hesitation, I jumped off, feeling my tummy choking my throat. Wargh!!! I let out a nervous/laughing scream and splooshed into the water. AWESOME! Gotta do that again! We watched and cheered the others jumping off, with Rob, Naomi and Jessica opting out. No pressure, no problem.

To have another turn, we were instructed how to climb back up the rock. Feet in the groove in the rock and pull yourself up leaning against the rope. Designed for dry gravel roads, my hiking boots were useless as I came crashing into the rock and slipped back down to the water. Owie.

After a few more jumps, we got to do some absailing into a pool of crystal clear water. Marc and his kids had no problem. Rob and Marcel went down like pros. I misunderstood the brief.

I thought you needed to lean back as far back as possible, with straight legs, as if you’re lying down. So with a nice wide stance, I leant over the ledge and started making my way down. Before I could say, “What the ?!?” my derriere was flat against the ledge and my legs flailing in the air. Oh my word. How undignified. Somehow I managed to push myself back into a sitting position and lowered myself into the water, feeling very silly.

Gotta do it again. When it was my turn, I leaned over and it seemed to be going better. Then poof. Upside down again. Ah man! What is it with me? The guides suggested I use more of a squatting stance and next time around, it went much better. Yippee.

“This is scary” Jessica tells me. “Yup, that’s the point. Looking at our fear and going ahead in spite of it. AND because it’s fun.” I wink. Rob helped Naomi and Jessica abseil down the less steep side and their confidence grew.

We roped ourselves up the boulder again and again. I slipped from one side to the next, feeling battered and bruised, but determined nonetheless. The thrill of abseiling or jumping into the water was just amazing.

Then the biggie … jumping off the top of the cliff .. some 10 or 11 metres high. Weirdly, the height wasn’t as daunting to me as how far out you needed to jump to miss the rocks below. I froze. Marcel took my place and lept into the water below. Yee-hah!

I stepped up again.
“Okay, I’m going to do it. No, I can’t. Yes, I will. No, it’s too dangerous. C’mon … what was that story about pushing your boundaries? You’ve got to do it Vic.”
I took three deep breaths, and swore (hopefully) under my breath, and another three deep breaths. I jumped. Arrrrrgghhhhhh! I felt sick. Then amazing. Wow, I did it!!

Not again, thank you very much.

Rob faced his fear of heights and tackled the lower platform, which I’m sure felt just as high as the top one. Landing in the water, the look on his face turned from bewilderment to surprise and you could see he was super chuffed for jumping. Kudos.

The water was getting colder. Or maybe it was just us. Were we shivering from the river or adrenaline? Hard to tell. We walked on further; our bones starting to defrost. Creeping through natural tunnels, we found another large boulder and the guides stopped. We looked at each other nervously. They smiled and handed out bottles of water and a Snickers. Never has a chocolate been so delicous or so needed. We rested and built up some energy.

We encountered another set of boulders formed over billions of years into pot holes, and noticed a harnass bolted into the rock above. Time to abseil again, this time through a pot hole next to a waterfall into a rock pool. Fabulous. It went perfectly and everyone got down safely.

We followed the river’s path into a small cave and had to jump out the other side. Somehow I got my body twisted the wrong way to be able to jump safely. I felt so stupid and frustrated. Can’t go forward. Can’t go backward. I pulled myself up a little higher and eventually jumped off. Exhilirating.

Some four hours later, our trail ended in a rock pool overlooking a stone bridge stolen from Lord of the Rings. Naomi jumped off the 2 metre boulder into the water and discovered the thrill. Rob gave it another go, enjoying it more this time. We splashed about reliving our experience and getting it imprinted onto our grey matter.

This was one of those lifetime experiences – the kind you have to do at least once. We returned to camp exhausted, but brimming with a sense of achievement.