Not again. I reach for my watch. It’s 5.04am. This is the third morning in succession we’ve been woken by howler monkeys. “Howl” isn’t the half of it. The noise invades your consciousness like some distant wind and builds into a sustained, jet-engine roar until you fling off the sheets and sit up, cursing. Awake, you can hear the throaty rasp – like a vomiting Darth Vader. The volume is astonishing: this is reputedly the loudest voice on the planet yet it comes from an animal no larger than a cat.

Still, an early start is no bad thing. So far we’ve needed every minute of daylight to get through our breathless itinerary, and this morning at the Hacienda Guachipelín promises to be the most action-packed yet. We are, after all, the proud bearers of a “family adventure pass”.

A short while later, strapped into harness and helmet and slightly regretting my immense breakfast, I find myself standing on a narrow platform overlooking a forested gorge. A steel cable arcs down through the trees to some invisible point on the other side. Now seems the last chance to voice my fears were it not for the fact that my nine-year-old daughter is already clipped on ahead of me. The last thing I see as she launches into the void is her grin.

This would feel more daunting, though, if we hadn’t been zip-lining already a few days ago, on the slopes of Arenal volcano. Then, I found it terrifying, hurtling at unnatural speeds along 800m cables high above the canopy. Now I’m a little more confident. As I zigzag down from platform to platform I can relax enough to appreciate the gurgle of the river and the chorus of birdsong. There is even time to spot a troop of howler monkeys in the crown of a fig tree. By the time we swing off the final platform on a Tarzan rope – with the obligatory Johnny Weissmuller yodel – fun has definitely conquered fear.

But the adventure pass has not done with us yet. Next, we saddle up on the hacienda’s patient horses and ride down to where the tumbling stream has become an impressive river. Waiting for us is a pile of outsize rubber rings. We’re going tubing, it seems. Before we know it, we are pushing off into the current, abandoned to our fate like human Poohsticks.

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