The Green Canyon is one of the coolest places I have ever visited. In this post you’ll find: me facing my fear of jumping into water, the coolest guy I’ve ever met, and probably a bunch of swearing. Enjoy!

When we visited Indonesia, Christian and I found ourselves at a place called the Green Canyon. It’s situated next to Cijulang on the Southern coast of Java. We decided that the best way to experience the canyon would be to go body-rafting there.

What’s body-rafting you ask? It’s basically like rafting but without the boat. You’re wearing water shoes, a helmet and a life vest, and you have to make your way down the river by swimming, floating, sliding down waterfalls, and jumping from cliffs. Here’s the thing though: I’m terrified of jumping into water from heights.

I mean, I used to be. Then I forced myself to face that fear.

The Green Canyon is something that forced us to face, even embrace our fears. For me, that was jumping in the water. For Christian it was heights. It’s funny – I really don’t mind heights, and he loves jumping into water.

Body Rafting at the Green Canyon

The owner of the homestay we were staying at took Christian and me to the body-rafting office. We left our stuff there and climbed in the back of a pick-up truck. Our guide asked us if we were siblings – the second time we’d been asked that in Indonesia. I think cultural differences like this are fascinating, because I would probably automatically assume a girl and a boy traveling together are in a relationship.

After a short drive, we climbed down some stairs and waded in the river. The current was a little strong, but the Canyon was breath-takingly beautiful. Cliffs covered in vines and moss closed in on an emerald-green river. Rocks were rising out of the water and sunbeams peaked through the trees. The water was cold – exactly what you’d want after spending hours under the Indonesian sun.

Our homestay’s owner had warned us that since we were visiting during the rainy season, the canyon might be more brown-ish than green. We took the gamble… and it paid off.

We started our descent by floating down the river. The first obstacle that came our way was a little waterfall (I think they’re called cascades). Simple enough – lay on your back, cross your arms over your chest, and have fun! It was awesome. We kept going on like this, occasionally coming out of the water to climb on the sharp rocks when the current got too strong.

The first jump

Then we got to the first jump. We climbed up on the rocks until we got to a 6m-high cliff. Our guide went first, to show us that it was safe. Christian went next. He took some time to look at the fall, calculate how he would jump, and gather the courage to throw himself in the water. I found this endearing – how hard can it be? Just jump!

And then came my turn. I walked up to the cliff and looked in the water. And then my stomach turned. Because, heh heh, it was actually pretty high.

That’s when the irrational fear kicked in. It didn’t make sense – I’m not afraid of heights. I’m a pretty good swimmer. I was wearing a fucking life-jacket!

But damn the water was far away.

How long will it even take me to hit the water? How hard will I hit it? How long will I be under the water, unable to breathe?

Christian was below in the water, encouraging me to jump. “It’s so much fun! Just remember to take a deep breath before hitting the water! It’ll be over really fast!” I had, at this point, been standing on that cliff for twice as long as he had when it was his time to jump.

I decided to count to three and I jumped.

The fall was a little longer than I would’ve thought, and I came up within a few seconds without any effort. Thanks, life-jacket. Did I feel my heart pumping adrenaline in my veins? I don’t know. I didn’t really have the time to think about it: I had to try to find my helmet, which I’d lost in the fall. Once I found it floating near me it was time to keep going.

Once again, we kept going and slid down waterfalls, climbed on rocks, and stretched our comfort zone to the max.

Then came time for the second jump.

As our guide said it:

“Okay, so you’re going to jump here. You’ll come up there (a few meters further), take a breath, and prepare to go back down again because you’re going to go down that waterfall. It’s a little higher than the others so the water’s going to suck you in for about four seconds. And then you’ll come back up! Sound good? Let’s go!”

Honestly, the jump alone wouldn’t have been that bad. But you have to come up before the waterfall? And then you’re going to be pushed down by water for four seconds? *nervous laughter*.

I’ll spare you the details. The guide jumped, Christian jumped, and I stood on the edge of that rock for half an hour. I was faced with a dilemma. I could just take the easy way out and walk on the surrounding rocks. Or I could look my fear in the eyes and tell it to go fuck itself.

So I jumped.

Okay, it wasn’t that cool. I knew I would be disappointed in myself if I chose not to jump. So that ruled out giving up. However, I didnt really want to jump, either. Our guide saw this and came up to me. He offered to jump together and gave me his hand. It’s now or never, I thought to myself. He counted to three and we jumped.

I came back for air and saw the waterfall approaching. After a deep breath I laid on my back, slid down and got sucked under the water. One, two… I counted in my head. Eventually, I came back up. There was no real “adrenaline pumping though my veins” here either, but the huge feeling of relief was even better. I was happy it was done, but I was also really proud of myself. Did it take half an hour and our guide literally taking me by the hand for me to jump? Yeah! But I still did it! Fuck yeah!

In my defense, I was doing pretty well with the heights. Christian, on the other hand, wasn’t very comfortable when we had to climb on sharp rocks several meters above the water. It did not help that whenever I was in trouble our guide told me “it’s okay, take my hand, slowly, slowly” and all Christian got was “come on Christian! Be a man, you can do this!”.

Both of our fears came together when we had to face one last obstacle before the finish line.

The last jump.

It also happened to be the highest jump (about 7 or 8 meters). We had to climb the side of the canyon, holding onto sharp rocks to avoid falling on other sharp rocks. We had to avoid stepping on rocks with red on them because they could be slippery. I touched one and I’ll be honest, it came pretty close to a soaking wet bar of soap.

After climbing for ten-ish minutes we got to the cliff we would jump from. Our guide looked hesitant. That’s just perfect. When your guide who you have seen running -and I mean running– on slippery rocks and jumping from six meters without even looking at the water hesitates before jumping, that’s not a good sign. We asked him why he was hesitant. Would jumping be dangerous? He looked at us and said “Oh absolutely not! I’m just wondering if I could do a backflip or if the canyon’s a little too narrow.”

Well, that solves that. We asked if he could do a regular jump just to show us, and he walked off the cliff as an answer. In less than a minute he was back on the rock with us.

Christian and I looked at each other. I knew from experience that if I went too close to the edge, the height would get inside my head and I’d lose any momentum I had. I also knew that I didn’t want to be the last one to jump for the third time.

So I decided to go on the count to three.

One.

Two.

I ran to the edge and I jumped.

The fall was definitely longer than the previous times. I also didn’t lose my helmet this time! And damn it, I finally got one hell of an adrenaline rush. The cool water slapped me out of it and I looked up to see Christian and our guide cheering. I may or may not have let out a battle cry when jumping.

Christian hesitated a little and followed me shortly. Our guide waited for us to be out of the way… and did a backflip on his way down. I aspire to be as cool as this guy some day.

We swam to a platform of rocks, where a group of local tourists we had seen on the way joined us. We chatted with them while waiting for the boats (the canyon was a little wider from this point on) that would take us back to the office.

Our way back went smoothly. We chatted with the locals (who mistook us for siblings) and ended our journey at the office where it had started. We got our stuff back and went back to the homestay.

As we stood there, in front of our door, Christian going for his keys inside his bag, we looked at each other and whispered “what the fuck just happened?”

That’s when the adrenaline rush hit me. If I hadn’t been absolutely drained I would have suggested going again.

After the Green Canyon

I haven’t had the chance to jump off a cliff since this happened – I will update this post if I do. I did, however, manage to pull a backflip off of Christian’s shoulders in a swimming pool, so there’s that.

More generally though, this isn’t a story about jumping off a cliff. This is about grabbing your fears by the [redacted] and the amazing feeling you get from pushing yourself to an extent you never thought possible. It’s about controlling your fears rather than letting them control you. It’s about daring to go into the unknown, trusting that something good will come out of it.

I can’t post this without mentioning Yes Theory. They’re a group of guys who have motivated me so much to go out of my comfort zone and say Yes to more things. Their motto “Seek Discomfort” especially resonates with me. This post isn’t sponsored in any way (I wish), but they have an amazing YouTube channel I recommend you check out.

Well, this pretty much wraps it up. Let me know in the comments if there’s a particular time you faced your fears – I’d love to hear about it!

If you have any questions about the Green Canyon feel free to ask them in the comments.

You can find more posts about Indonesia here and more storytimes here.