I was staying with my family in a lovely but somewhat sterile beach and golf resort in the Dominican Republic, and all of us were itching to get out of the walled complex and see the country beyond. Guidebooks and hotel staff warned ominously about the dangers of the world outside, but we located a tour company and booked a day’s ‘adventure’ excursion with a like-minded group of Europeans.

Our minibus party’s first stop was early morning on a muddy bank of the Chavon river, where we stepped gingerly into a flat-bottomed boat. This slick, piranha-infested river was the location for much of the filming of ‘Apocalypse Now’.

We buzzed along the muddy yellow river as parrots emerged from the almost solid green walls of trees and vines either side. It really did resemble the Mekong river, sans ‘horror’, and felt like participating in a National Geographic documentary.

After we’d spotted about as many piranha and parrots as we could handle, we landed at a remote beach where a supply boat met us with refreshments. A bundle of fresh coconuts and some suspicious old Evian bottles full of what was apparently rum were mixed into the simplest and most powerful ‘cocktails’. It was noon and the sun was strong, but nobody got away without a full measure, even the poor woman caught ‘spilling’ her rum into the sand.

Sozzled, dehydrated and hot, it was the perfect time to mount horses and continue our adventure through the rainforest!

I was delighted to have to cross a river on horseback, something I normally associate with cowboy movies, with my feet crossed above the horse’s neck to stay dry. Others were less delighted, however, when they realised the moisture creeping into their trousers was not river water, but rather horse sweat from the exertions of lugging tourists bareback at midday.

I’m a confident horserider, but admittedly it was a rather hazardous route up the steep cliffs dropping to the river on one side, with the horses stumbling frequently on rough ground. By the time we arrived at our dinner destination, a lot of nerves were frayed and everyone was ready for some refreshment and entertainment.

And entertaining it was! We rode into a small hill-country village and were ushered in to sit on low benches around a central circular area. As we ate chicken and fruit, the ‘folklore show’ in front of us evolved into a full-scale Voodoo ceremony.

A shaman, apparently possessed by the goddess Erzulie (a Haitian Aphrodite) minced across broken glass in a cloud of silk scarves, while drummers’ eyes rolled back and an old man began harassing a cage full of chickens.

At this point, everyone was thinking of the previous day’s reception-desk warnings. Three chickens were killed and their blood drained into a sand circle on the ground. A woman in an elaborate feather headdress appeared in the circle with a small white goat...

In the nick of time, our knight in airconditioned minibus appeared, and we returned, wide-eyed but fulfilled, to our white tablecoths and mai tais.