Ten adrenaline days out: canyons, bridges and big jumps

Adrenaline sports are mostly the art of paying professionals to frighten you safely. The fear is real, the risk is managed, and the machinery of harnesses, ropes and double-checks is so well drilled that the scariest part is usually the countdown. None of these ten days out needs prior experience — operators supply the kit, the training and, where relevant, the person clipped to your back — and all of them end with the same slightly hysterical grin. The only real qualification is deciding, at the crucial moment, not to listen to your legs.

Queenstown invented commercial bungee in 1988 at the Kawarau Bridge, and jumping there — 43 metres above a mint-green river, from the original ledge — remains the classic gateway drug. Graduates progress to the Nevis: 134 metres from a pod slung across a canyon, with eight and a half seconds of freefall in which to reconsider everything. No fitness required, just paperwork and nerve. Book the first morning slot for calm winds and a smaller audience.

Costa Rica's cloud-forest zip lines peak at Monteverde, where 'superman' cables strap you in face-down, arms back, to fly a kilometre across a forested valley at motorway speed, quetzal habitat blurring beneath. Most parks finish with a Tarzan swing that extracts the day's loudest noise from everyone. Go in the morning, before the cloud that gives the forest its name rolls in and takes the view with it. Closed shoes are mandatory; dignity is not provided.

Madeira's volcanic ravines make canyoning routes with everything on the menu: abseils down mossy waterfalls, natural slides polished by centuries of water and jumps into pools the colour of bottle glass, all inside laurel forest that drips like a film set. Beginner routes such as Ribeira das Cales need no experience — guides rig every rope, and every jump has an opt-out. Wetsuits are provided and the season runs year-round. Book a small-group operator in Funchal and take the earliest start.

You run three steps down an alpine meadow and then the ground simply resigns — tandem paragliding from Beatenberg, high above Interlaken, delivers ten to twenty minutes of soaring between the Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau with two turquoise lakes below. The pilot handles everything; your job is the running and the gawping. Ask for a morning flight for the smoothest air, or afternoon thermals if you fancy acrobatics. It is weather-dependent, so leave yourself a spare day.

Via ferrate — 'iron ways' of cables, ladders and rungs bolted across Dolomite rock faces, many dating from the First World War — let ordinary walkers cross terrain otherwise reserved for climbers. Clipped in with a lanyard kit at every step, you traverse ledges with several hundred metres of air below your heels. Start on a grade-one route near Cortina, and hire a mountain guide for your first day out. July to September is the season; helmets always.

The original extreme sport of the Welsh coast asks a simple question at increasing heights: will you jump? Between leaps you traverse barnacled rock at sea level, ride swells into gullies and haul out through whitewater, all in thick wetsuits that make the Atlantic almost cosy. Operators around St Davids run sessions from around age eight upwards, April to October, with every jump strictly optional. Confidence in the water matters more than fitness. The last ledge is always higher than it looked.

Below Victoria Falls, the Zambezi crashes through the Batoka Gorge in a day-long conveyor of grade-five rapids with names like Oblivion and The Washing Machine — widely rated the wildest commercially rafted white water on earth. First-timers are welcome: guides brief hard, safety kayakers shadow every raft, and unscheduled swims are considered part of the syllabus. Low-water season, roughly August to December, serves the biggest rapids. The 200-metre hike out of the gorge afterwards is its own workout.

James Bond opened GoldenEye by diving off the Verzasca Dam, and civilians have been queueing to copy him ever since: 220 metres of freefall down a curved concrete face into a Ticino valley of emerald pools. It is Europe's highest commercial bungee, and the seven-and-a-half-second fall leaves ample time for regret and its opposite. Jumps run roughly April to October and slots sell out, so book ahead. Recover afterwards in the absurdly clear Verzasca river downstream.

Billed as the world's highest commercial abseil, this one starts a thousand metres above Cape Town: you back off the summit's edge, feed rope through the descender and drop 112 metres of sheer sandstone with the Atlantic glittering below your heels. Guides control a safety line throughout and no experience is needed — just the ability to lean backwards into fresh air on command. Ride the cableway up and book a morning slot, before the famous tablecloth cloud arrives.

From the wooden ramp on Pedra Bonita, 520 metres above the forest, you and your tandem pilot take three running steps and Rio unfolds beneath a fabric wing: Tijuca's green, Christ the Redeemer on his peak, the sweep of coastline, then a landing on São Conrado beach in front of applauding sunbathers. Flights last ten to fifteen minutes and mornings give the smoothest air. Book a licensed pilot through the association at the landing zone, and pay the photo supplement without hesitation.