His enormous black, bushy tail -glowing with white flecks- swished for the umpteenth time just out of view behind the trunk. I had been trying for a good ten minutes to capture this squirrel's "Paddington-Bear" curiosity but was fighting a loosing battle - he was determined to win at our little game of hide and seek! So, slipping off my sandles I headed down onto the sands in search of another of nature's wonders, and this one I hoped would allow me to photograph it!

The El Chorro Waterfall. Twelve kilometers east along the sands from Montezuma it tumbled: a spray of crystal water cascading off a cliff into the shimmering sea bellow. For longer than I can remember I had drawn these coastal phenomenums on teabag stained treasure maps, written about explorers scaling their darring heights and dreamed of standing beneath one. But, never had I actually seen one. Until today.

I set off beneath coconut palms that bent low over the seaweed line sending slices of shadow onto the blinding gold. It was 11am and already so hot that the sand's heat seared through your feet like glowing embers making it impossible to walk barefoot unless in the shade. Despite this, the "tanner's" were out; at least a dozen bronzed beach babes soaking up the rays. But let's just say... I for one was extremely glad when the beach ended and the trail took me under the umbrella of a dry, leafy forest. Barely 20 meters in and I heard the familiar sound of a horse's heavy breath. He emerged, from beneath the dry foliage, a dainty tan-coloured pony who niftily led the way for his following companions over the nobbled tree roots.
"Gracias!" His rider called as I stepped to one side letting his ontourage of whobbly trainer-clad tourists clip-clop past. Being a good two hour walk in the searing heat this journey was deffinatly more popular done on horseback!

As the path ended a green and gungy lagoon appeared to my left; shallow and stagnent a verdent scum scuffed the surface beneath which lay -or so the sign warned- crocodiles! These reptiles can reach lengths of around 6 meters and all though attacks on humans are rare the numbers are worryingly increasing due to the practise of feeding them on river tours.

Not wanting to add to these numbers I swiftly carried on my way along the seemingly eternal sands of Playa Grande where afew surfers were playing in the waves. If you half closed your eyes and pictured the swaying palms as ruffling marram grass I could have sworn I was in the Hebredies -creamy sand drawn out for miles along a gently curving coastline; an unblemished blue sky that melted from deep navy to a peaceful cornflower; and an ocean breeze that ruffled the waves into foaming balls of cotton wool. Now as I rounded the rocky point the sands lay empty, bar a smattering of black rocks and old palm trunks. Not a soul in sight. This sense of being the first, the bold explorer, to discover such a wild and peaceful stretch of coastline was what made the journey so special. For there were no deckchairs or coconut stands; just old logs and the coconuts themselves.

The minutes ticked by, the beach continued to stretch on forever and my rucksack was deffinatly getting heavier! Grit and suncream formed a layer of sandpaper beneath my rucksack straps and the sun -glaring down at me from above - was only intensifying the action. One foot in front of the other...One foot in front of the other. And then, behond the mirage of rolling sand dunes it appeared: a waterfall of my dreams. Pale feathers flew off the cliff face and crashed in a fury of white spray on the rocks beneath. Less than a meter away the sea grew force: a brilliantly turquoise roller curled back on itself in retreat before returning to meet the rocks with another surge of foaming salt.

All I wanted was to dive straight in, but the threat of riptides held me back. Instead, I donned my bikini and scrambled down -dodging the monstrous breakers- to reach the falls... fresh, chilling water that poured off the cliff and down my face washing away all traces of sweat and suncream.

Cooled off and fully refreshed I set about satisfying my stomach: up and over the hill to a perfect and empty (or so I thought!) picnic bay. Sitting down to munch on my crackers and fresh peach I noticed two guys over the far side beneath some coconut palms - a long,thin pole in hand. One man pushed the pole high up into the foliage, gave it a shake and out fell a large green shell. With one swift strike the other man had sliced off the top with a matcheti and drawn the young coconut to his lips... I could almost feel the cold, tingling water pouring into his mouth as if it was me who was drinking it - a true gift from nature. Again and again they knocked out coconuts to drink the juice before setting aside the same again for later. Turning and heading for home one man approached, a fresh coconut outstretched. My mouth watered just at the thought of sipping from the large shell, but given the location and tales of druggings I politely refused.

When the time came to turn for home I whatched the sun begin to set behind leafy palms: A misty gow hung over the beach and hermit crabs by the dozen were scuttling across the sand to the saftey of some seaweed.

I arrived back in town as street vendors began rolling out their stalls to showcase a multi-cultural array of ornately plaited jewelry and handcarved wooden pipes. The sun had finally rested his head and now it was the streetlights casting an evening arora of warmth trough the village. I meandered past surf shops and buzzing cafes until I arived outside "Cafe Organica" where I had arranged to meet with two friends, Brooklyn and Micheal. Just gazing at the menu was enough to make my mouth water: pure and nutritious the food on offer was not only artiscally presented on the plate but bursting with tropical flavours too. I was just digging into a bowlful of coconut and chickpea curry when a Country and Western band lit up the mikes. The gentle sound of guitar chords drifted through the air and the lights dimmed until only a soft glow illuminated the enormous bowl of ice-cream that had been placed in front of me. Being desperate to try some of their speciality avocado gelato I had splashed out and ordered "The Big Monkey" dessert... however somewhere along the lines I had missed out on the fact that it was a 'sharing dessert'! So now, here I was with 5 scoops of creamy gelato before me garnished with tropical fruits and chocolate sauce...and boy was my sweet toothed excited! A decedent scoop of chocolate, two scoops of sweet and creamy avocado, a tantalising scoop of choco-mint and to wash it all down a refreshing mango sorbet!

This gorgeous organic feast wasn't to be the end of the night though: down on the beach Brooklyn and Micheal produced two "fibre-flys" - strands of light up fibre which swirled around their bodies like a trail of restless gems as they danced on the darkened shoreline. From scarlet to green to pale violet the colours changed until I saw a ripple of blue cascading down to the sand like the El Chorro Waterfall.