A Little Nerve, a Lasting Memory: Adrenaline Experiences Our Advisors Tried for You
Even travel advisors have their “Do I really want to do this?” moments. A swim at the edge of a waterfall. A journey into a sacred cave. A bird of prey flying straight toward an outstretched hand.
Here, our advisors share what happened when they said yes. Their stories are wonderfully different, but each captures that moment when nerves give way to something worth remembering.
Up, Then Down in the Dolomites
Cold, with slightly icy conditions and clipped into the side of a mountain, I was with ten friends, starting our first via ferrata in the Dolomites. This form of climbing takes you along the mountain using fixed cables, iron rungs, and ladders. Exhilarating, yes. But being clipped in didn’t stop me from thinking about the drop beneath us.
As we climbed higher, the sun appeared, and the layers came off. We thought it was getting warmer, but it was the adrenaline kicking in.
Hanging from jagged rock with a very long drop below was terrifying, exhilarating, and completely addictive. It’s a curious combination, feeling scared and knowing you would happily do it again.
Reaching the top felt incredible. We had done it! Ten friends on our first via ferrata, with all that climbing behind us.
Or so we thought.
Then came the surprise: we had to go back down the same way. Reaching the top was only part of the adventure.
On the descent, I had to look down to find each foothold while trying not to comprehend the sheer drop beneath me. The view below was exactly what I was trying not to think about, yet finding my way down meant looking straight at it.
That was the biggest adrenaline rush of all.
Scary? Yes. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat.
At the Edge of Victoria Falls
I’ll admit, I wasn’t immediately sold on swimming at the edge of Victoria Falls. My first concern was surprisingly practical: what if the boat’s engine failed on the way there? Then I noticed our boat had two engines. The probability of both failing seemed sufficiently low to me, so I decided I was in.
And I’m so glad I did.
Our guides were wonderful, local daredevils whose confidence immediately put me at ease. Once we reached the top of the falls, the experience was almost surreal. The water temperature was just right, but what I remember most was the sound: the tremendous roar of water rushing toward the edge.
Standing at the brink, with one of the world’s great natural wonders plunging just beyond us, was equal parts exhilarating and humbling. I went from worrying about the boat to swimming at the edge of the falls, taking in the water, the sound, and the sheer scale of what surrounded us.
Our timing made it even more extraordinary. We were there on the final day of the swimming season. The water was rising, and immediately after our visit, the experience closed until conditions would allow it again.
I would have been perfectly happy admiring Vic Falls from a distance. But sometimes the adventures that require a little convincing are the ones you’re happiest you said yes to.
Into the Maya Underworld
What most concerned me about exploring Belize’s Actun Tunichil Muknal, or ATM Cave, was having to take off my shoes in its sacred archaeological chamber.
My husband and I were staying at Turtle Inn in Placencia, so we had to leave at 5 a.m. Piping-hot coffee and the most delicious breakfast burrito I have ever tasted helped considerably.
We were the first to arrive. Then our guide explained the jungle hike, three river crossings, and ropes we could hold onto along the way. Travel advisors are notorious for researching their clients’ trips endlessly while winging the details of their own. Apparently, I was no exception.
Somewhere mid-river, I thought, “I’ll never be able to suggest this to any of my clients.” Incredible? Yes. Luxurious? Definitely not that.
Inside, we scrambled over rocks and through narrow passages, our headlamps lighting the way. Then we reached the “Cathedral,” a towering chamber holding ancient Maya ceremonial artifacts and human remains. Among them was the “Crystal Maiden,” a calcified skeleton sparkling with mineral deposits.
We lingered in awed silence until the voices of the next group began echoing behind us. That was when I reconsidered my earlier verdict.
Having a quiet moment in such an extraordinary place, before other visitors arrived, felt like its own kind of luxury. Access could be every bit as memorable as the comforts waiting back at the property, even if this version required taking off my shoes.
And wow, that massage upon our return was well earned.
A Hawk, A Glove, and Me
I have a general wariness toward birds. My family occasionally resurrects a childhood vacation photo of me holding a parrot and looking extremely distressed. Me, not the parrot.
When my friend suggested falconry in England, I thought, “Why not?” I could always keep my distance.
Our no-nonsense English guide introduced us to Casper, her hawk, fitted us with leather gloves, and led us into the woods. My plan quickly fell apart. She placed raw rabbit on my glove and told me to extend my arm.
Casper spotted it from the trees and flew straight toward me. Seconds later, he was on my hand.
My heart raced, but I felt exhilarated. Seeing a bird of prey that close was incredible. We spent the next hour and a half walking through the woods as Casper hunted and returned to our gloves. With each landing, I grew more comfortable.
Then I felt talons grip my shoulder through my wool sweater. Casper had flown up behind me and settled there. Perhaps we were bonding. More likely, the tallest person in the group looked like a convenient perch.
The surprise was that I didn’t panic. I stood still while our guide calmly removed him.
I’d started the afternoon hoping to keep my distance and ended it with a hawk on my shoulder. It was a quieter adrenaline rush, perhaps, but completely unexpected.
Naturally, I updated the family group chat with a new bird photo. This time, I looked considerably less terrified.