Surf's not up in Costa Rica

Feeling completely helpless as I was dragged increasingly further away from the shoreline by an invisible, ankle-high current was not, I decided, not my idea of a relaxing holiday.

The fact that I had been told by some local fishermen that, as well as surf enthusiasts from all over the world, sharks like to hang around the same stretch of the Pacific Ocean as I then found myself simply added to my desire to be in the middle of the urban jungle doing little more strenuous than drinking coffee.

However, heeding the advice of my surf instructor, I put my instincts on hold and let myself be taken by the riptide – apparently becoming too exhausted to stand up in the relatively shallow water as a result of struggling too much is much more likely than being pulled under- and, luckily after the longest few seconds of my life I managed to climb back on my board and paddle back to dry land.

Unfortunately, this was no one-off incident.

Rather, it just served to prove what I had always believed: I am no surfer.

Luckily, my surfing alma mater was located right on the Playa Samara on the north-western coast of Costa Rica, so I was safe in the knowledge that I could spend the rest of my week as a simple observer of the natural beauty of the Central American country.

Sitting on the beach was, of course, an option.

While the name of the beach I was on may conjure up images of a remote tropical paradise, the beach towns on the Costa Rican pacific coast are perfect resorts for travellers of all budgets, with the local economies boosted by the fact that this region offers some of the finest surfing conditions on earth.

While such popularity has seen prices go up, I was still able to get my own beach hut, one-on-one surf tuition and treat myself to three square meals a day – deliciously sourced from the ocean – for less than the cost of a train ticket from London to Cornwall, while I was more than able to get my five portions of fruit a day simply by reaching up into the nearest tree.

However, I was determined not to visit what is probably the world's most bio-diverse country and do nothing more than drink smoothies and listen to Bob Marley all day long in a bar run by an ex-pat American.

Fortunately for truants from surf school, getting around Costa Rica is incredibly easy and affordable thanks to the excellent bus network and passable roads.

My journey from the north-west to the south-west of the country meant that I had to pass through the sprawling capital of San Jose, not pretty by any standards but certainly an improvement on all the other Central American cities and a good place to stock up on supplies.

I reached my location, the Corcovado National Park just after the mid-afternoon rain had come to an end and immediately set out to explore.

Within a matter of minutes I concluded that the long and sweaty cross-country journey was well worth it.

As well as the monkeys – which you become accustomed to only a day or so into arriving in the country – there were sloth, parrots and dozens of varieties of butterfly, all of which were relatively happy for me to stand and watch them go about their business.

While I came with dreams of becoming a top surfer and hanging out in beach-side bars, this for me was the genuine Costa Rica- far more beautiful and far less