(dramatic music) - [Narrator] Land adventures are as varied as the people who undertake them, as diverse as the seasons and terrain.

They can be elaborate, multi-day journeys that set out to traverse a landscape, or simple, adrenaline-fueled pursuits that are over in a racing heartbeat.

Most adventures come with an element of risk, a chance to confront our deepest fears, to resist the gravitational pull of the ordinary, and soar into the wild unknown.

From challenging rides down rugged mountain ranges to climbing active volcanoes, these are the World's Greatest Land Adventures!

(upbeat music) Cycling is one land adventure that has enormous and broad appeal, providing fit travelers with an endless list of places to explore on two wheels rather than four.

Riding on back-roads that weave their way through the countryside is a clean, green way to experience the world, taking the time to take it all in, the intimate details and the infinite views.

It's hard to imagine a place better suited to cycling, than the South Island of New Zealand.

One of the best adventures begins in the shadow of Aoraki, Mt Cook, the highest point in New Zealand's southern alps, the place where the nation's best loved adventurer, mountaineer Sir Edmund Hillary, first took to the hills!

Sticking to the tarmac for most of the way, this classic ride from the summits to the sea is 300 kilometers long, providing a compact selection of some of New Zealand's signature scenery.

The Alps form a spectacular backdrop for the first leg of the journey, but the lakes soon take center stage, as the road hugs the shore of several, glistening like precious gems set in the claw of the Earth.

Lake Pukaki's milky appearance comes from ground-down rock or glacial silt that washes into the lake from the mountains, but when the sun reflects off these particles, the lake takes on a surreal, turquoise hue.

The landscape along the entire route is at its best in spring, and on two wheels riders say they feel completely immersed in its splendor; breathing in some of the freshest air on the planet, with a gentle tailwind encouraging them along.

A lot of the vistas are rural, where sheep and cows far outnumber the people.

But quirky country towns like Kurow, add splashes of color to the predominantly green South-Island scene.

As the road winds its way down through the Otago hinterland to the coast, it tracks past Elephant Rocks, a geological oddity locals claim is as impressive as Stonehenge.

Cyclists can either ride or walk through this field of over-sized limestone boulders, before embarking on the final downhill run that joins Highway One at Oamaru.

This heritage town still boasts many of its grand Whitestone buildings, built in the late 19th century, when gold mining, timber-milling, and the quarrying of local limestone improved the fortunes of just about every European settler living in the north Otago region.

The Victorian precinct down by the harbor marks the end of the Alps to Ocean Ride, but it also presents an opportunity for cyclists to try out a very different set of wheels.

Contributing to the old world charm that oozes from Oamaru's busy harbor side streets.

Apart from a plethora of quiet, sealed roads, New Zealand also boasts a ready supply of great mountain biking tracks.

Mountain biking on narrow paths graded for advanced and expert riders requires a lot more skill than on road adventures, but rewards those dedicated to tackling such challenges with an unbridled sense of freedom.

Elevating the adrenaline levels at each and every downhill turn.

The hills around Queenstown afford serious cyclists plenty of scope for adventure.

But there are also trails to suit relative newcomers.

Either way, the fastest way into the southern Alps, where all the downhill action begins, is by helicopter.

Flying over the Remarkables is a grand adventure in its own right.

But in this case?

A mere primer for what's to come.

A solid half-day, bone-jarring ride along dirt tracks and historic gold-mining trails that ultimately involves a 1,700-meter descent.

This is real backcountry riding, on grade three and four trails.

(dramatic music) Many of the world's best mountain biking regions have another sport to thank for their existence, granting off-season access to chairlifts and all the best downhill runs.

It's a trend that's likely to gain more traction as the climate begins to warm.

But, for now, summer bikers in places such as Park City, Utah in America, are well outnumbered, many thousands to one.

Once the first winter snows hit the slopes, there's just no stemming the tide or the number of adventurous ways there are to enjoy this wintery-wonderland.

For the skilled, there's a luge track.

For the unskilled, a zip line, giving participants a sense of what ski-jumpers must feel as they hurdle down the slopes and take to the air!

A whole world of white, beyond the downhill runs, is best explored on cross-country skis or snowmobile.

Granted, these machines are noisy, momentarily robbing the backcountry wilderness of some of its serenity, but they do give people from all walks of life a chance to immerse themselves in nature.

Despite the increasing interest in snowmobiles, alpine skiing and snowboarding are by far two of the best ways to experience the wonder of winter right throughout North America.

And while Park City may well lay claim to the best powder snow on the planet, for scenery, it's hard to top the ski fields of Canada.

One of the world's greatest winter playgrounds is Whistler-Blackcomb: two ski fields sitting side by side, joined by a hair-raising gondola ride.

This is the largest ski resort in North America, with well over 3,000 hectares of skiable terrain.

It also boasts the longest season, typically beginning in late November, running right through to late April.

The slopes receive, on average, 40 feet of snow every season, attracting around two million skiers a year.

Both mountains have over 100 trails, with plenty of space for freestylers to do their thing, from sun up to sun down.

Like Utah, the park also doubles as a haven for mountain bikers once seasonal snows have melted.

But until they do, Whistler-Blackcomb continues, year on year, to do everything in its powder to keep its world's greatest alpine resort reputation on track.

(dramatic music) Every continent beyond Antarctica has its share of great railroad adventures.

Some afford travelers an armchair-like view across dazzling or desolate landscapes.

Others?

A glimpse into everyday life as it plays out along the tracks.

From traveling to Tibet on the world's highest railroad to zooming through Japan at high speed, there's an old-school charm to riding the rails that has a great deal of appeal.

In the main, these experiences are justifiably focused on the destination, on the scenery that sweeps towards the horizon, or soars high above the rails.

Other train rides forge their way into hearts by making more of the journey rather than the unfolding scenery; deliberately transporting nostalgic travelers back to a gentler time.

For heritage train enthusiasts, traveling anywhere by steam train, is the very definition of a grand adventure, reliving the golden age of trains.

But with each passing decade, as engines wear out and find themselves decommissioned, opportunities to fan the fires of the past are becoming few and far between.

One place in Australia where it's still possible to ride on an old rattler is the Dandenong Ranges in Victoria.

The narrow gauge line between Belgrave and Gembrook was initially built to open up and develop the region, but since electric trains and motorcars superseded the need for steam, the Puffing Billy trains run purely for pleasure.

Serious train buffs can crank things up a notch by taking control of the train, learning how to drive the 130-year-old steam locomotive.

Once the 861 footplate has been prepped and shunted into place and all its working parts have been lubricated, it's time to light and stoke the coal fire.

With the intricacies of raising steam taught and mastered, lessons move on to the finer arts of steering, stopping, and blowing the all-important steam-driven whistle.

The 48-kilometer roundtrip chugs its way up into the Dandenong Ranges, through corridors of towering eucalypt trees and wide open stretches of farmland.

Trainee drivers are taught how to negotiate sharp curves, steep grades, and rickety trestle bridges.

And halfway through the journey, must stop at a station to take on water.

Taking control of the 861 is sweaty, sooty hard work; a real behind the scenes experience.

Granted, there's none of the glamour and glitz travelers more readily associate with this bygone era.

But for adventure-seeking train enthusiasts, it clearly provides the world's greatest trip down memory lane!

(dramatic music) There is, undeniably, value in traveling as slowly as one possibly can, free from the treadmill of everyday life, immersed in a culture that harks back to a different time.

The real masters of slow travel are the Bedouins, desert nomads who live primarily in the Middle East, the Arabian Peninsula, and North Africa.

And their preferred mode of transport has always been the camel.

While many Bedouins have opted for a more settled way of life, there are still those who roam freely through the landscape, keeping their traditions alive.

Bedouins pride themselves on their bravery, generosity, and hospitality, so they've taken quite naturally to sharing the experience of their world with adventurous outsiders, offering multi-day journeys by camel through the wonder that is Wadi Rum.

Wadi is Arabic for valley, and this is the largest in Jordan, etched into a high plateau at the western end of the Arabian Desert.

Daytime temperatures here can soar to 50 degrees, but drop overnight to zero.

Winter floods and sandstorms over many millions of years have shaped the sandstone into a galley of natural fortresses, towers, and arches, a readymade set for filmmakers wishing to make movies about Mars.

It was also the principal location for filming the 1962 epic, "Lawrence of Arabia," a movie version of the life of Thomas Edward Lawrence, a British army officer who fought alongside the Arabs against the Turks during the First World War.

Traveling by camel through Wadi Rum today gives visitors a deeper understanding of his story and a greater respect for the people who have lived in this forbidding terrain for many thousands of years.

America also offers adventurers an opportunity to explore one of its most celebrated deserts from the back of a very different beast, taking on this great cinematic landscape in a way that would do Hollywood proud.

Fans of old cowboy movies set in the wild, wild west need no introduction to Monument Valley, for it's been the go-to backdrop for westerns since the 1930s when director John Ford made "Stagecoach," the film that shot actor John Wayne to fame.

Nestled in the heart of the Navajo nation in Utah, it's arguably, the best place in North America to saddle up, to channel your inner cowboy or girl, and canter out across the vast desert plain.

Whether a beginner or seasoned equestrian, the rider always sets the pace in this desert, but surely it would border on sacrilege not to go flat out at least once!

The landscape is dotted with flat topped mesas and buttes and needle-thin spires or temples that owe their current, if precarious, demeanor to erosion by wind and rain.

It gets hot out here in the summer, averaging 32 degrees, but equally, the winters can be bitter, with a minimum of minus four.

Not surprisingly, the vegetation is minimal and conditions extremely harsh, and, while jackrabbits have evolved to keep their cool using their oversized ears as radiators, humans and horses venturing into their domain need to stay well hydrated and heed the advice of the locals.

When they say there's wind and weather on the way, it's time to move 'em on, head 'em up, cut 'em out, and ride 'em in, rawhide!

On the flip side of the globe in Australia, there's a place that attracts horse-riders like moths to a flame.

While not quite as famous as Monument Valley, it is just as dear to the heart and heritage of the nation.

The locals on one side of the state border that runs through the middle of these ranges call their side of the great divide the High Country, while the others refer to theirs as the Snowies.

But they all take great pride in keeping their region's history alive.

Celebrated in classic Australian literature and cinema, this is where they filmed "The Man from Snowy River," an epic love story loosely based on a poem Banjo Paterson wrote in 1890.

Just about every Australian can recite the first few lines of that poem and recall key scenes from the movie, for both are all-but branded into the national psyche.

The high country is where pioneering cattlemen and women would drove their stock for the summer to graze on the alpine meadows some 1,500 meters above sea level.

Then, every autumn, before winter took hold, they'd run them back to the fold.

They would also muster any wild horses they found, with the view to train the brumbies to take a saddle.

A century-old practice that continues to this day, helping to keep the number of feral horses that roam free inside the region's state forests and national parks in check.

In a high-paced adventure that can take several weeks to complete, the local stockmen race the wild horses out of the high country and down to their stockyards on the river flats.

It takes years to perfect the particular set of skills required to ride at this level, tearing down slopes that are improbably steep, thundering through snow and across rivers and streams.

Most weekend riders are content to leave such antics to the experts, watching life imitating art, as these high-country heroes emulate the classic moves of those actors who brought their forebears' story to the big screen.

(dramatic music) While the long-standing tradition of mustering cattle from the saddle endures on smaller properties in Australia, the quad bike is becoming a more popular option on many of the nation's larger ranches.

This has led to the advent of a brand new Outback adventure that's helping ranchers to pay their bills and urban cowboys to get their thrills.

This is city-slickers mark two, 10 times the horsepower, and 10 times the potential for something going horribly wrong.

On a bush property such as this one in Northern Queensland, ironically named Blazing Saddles, riders learn how to control their ATVs and negotiate tricky terrain.

Believe it or not, you don't need a driver's license to give this adventure a go, but riders do need to keep their eyes on the road and steer well clear of the trees.

A less intimidating place to harness your inner-crusty demon is the Northern territory, where quad bikes are definitely the vehicle of choice for taking the desert in stride.

It's far easier here to limit the spills and maximize the thrills, for there's not quite as many obstacles to negotiate.

In the shadow of the grand MacDonnell Ranges, riders kick up dust that's millions of years old, worn down from mountains that in their heyday were once as high as the Rockies.

This arid land, shaped by wind and rain over the eons, is home to a remarkable number of hardy desert dwellers, many doing their level best to contribute to the natural desert soundscape.

Wild budgerigars are grass and seed eaters and need to drink every day, so dams on private properties can be crucial to their survival, especially during prolonged droughts when natural water holes dry up.

They don't stop for long, for fear of aerial predators, and do all they can when they're flying to confuse and distract, artfully changing direction as one on a whim.

Flocks of a hundred or so are commonplace.

But murmurations of thousands are a rare privilege, providing inspiration for quad bikers eager to mimic a few of their fast-paced maneuvers.

One of the world's greatest four-wheeled adventures on offer in the land down under involves a crash course, no pun intended, in stunt driving.

Various schools that put professional stunt drivers through their paces also afford weekend warriors an opportunity to burn a little rubber.

This is an action-packed adventure where drivers learn how to perform hand brake turns and jumps.

While some schools specialize in precision driving techniques that involve vehicles with power-steering and four wheels, others, such as the stunt academy on Queensland's Gold Coast in Australia teach most of their tricks on two, and, occasionally, if all goes according to plan, one.

The key to success is focus, keeping the mind completely on the task at hand with no room for any lapse of concentration.

By far, the most intensive weekend courses cover a whole range of action-adventure skills tailor-made for Hollywood-hopefuls, the next Arnold Schwarzenegger or Jackie Chan.

In a safe environment, under the watchful eye of an industry expert, participants learn how to fall from a great height.

- [Man] Three, two, one, action!

Yeah!

- [Narrator] They will also learn how to punch and kick their way out of trouble and how to do all kinds of aerial stunts using harnesses and ropes.

Towards the end of the weekend experience, adventurers get to barrel-roll across the bonnet of a moving car.

Then, if they're up for it, learn how not to burn to death when the script calls for an actor to be set on fire.

Something you should never try at home!

(dramatic music) Walking is one of the more popular ways to take in the wild side of the world.

And while the vast majority of trekkers appear content to stick to well-trodden paths, others want nothing less than a high-stakes adventure every time they set foot out the door.

If trails were movies?

Then every one of them would need to end in a cliffhanger!

Working hand in glove with teams of engineers equally primed to push the boundaries, these dare-devils have devised dozens of new ways to make the most of nature's scenery and cash in on humanity's insatiable desire to be scared.

Yes, that is a scientifically proven fact: that most humans feel aroused by fear.

Apparently, we like to have our focus sharpened and our hearts pounding out of our chests, but we also like to live to tell our brave tales, so there is method to the seemingly counterintuitive madness of creating minimal-risk, maximum rush attractions.

Suspension bridges were the original way engineers pushed tourism to the edge.

And one that's put a sway into the steps of visitors for well over a century is the Capilano suspension bridge in Vancouver, Canada.

The current bridge, which was constructed in 1956, is 140 meters long, hanging 70 meters above the Capilano River.

But these days, it's little more than an appetizer for this exquisite piece of North American engineering: The Capilano Cliff Walk.

This three million dollar galvanized steel walkway is cantilevered away from the granite canyon, Suspended on cables that are anchored directly into holes that had to be drilled by hand nearly five meters into the rock.

To avoid risking a forest fire, each connection had to be bolted, rather than welded together.

At 230 meters long, the Capilano Cliff Walk has a number of stairways linking a series of seven straight bridge sections and one that's elegantly curved.

For those too afraid to look down, the view across the forest is equally captivating, for it takes in a swathe of the largest temperate rainforest in the world, stunning conifers and maples that in some places are close enough to touch.

The deck of the walkway here is made out of fir, but over on the other side of British Columbia, all that separates adventurers from this 280 meter drop into the Sunwapta Valley is glass.

It's hard to imagine that anything could steal the limelight from the Canadian Rockies, but most people braving the glacier skywalk spend just as much time staring at the observation platform as they do the view.

Jutting 35 meters out of a cliff on Jasper National Park's iconic Icefield Parkway, the skywalk shifts perspectives, affording a view that looks down on birds flying and up at Earthbound glaciers!

The idea of constructing a glass walkway over and above this particularly scenic part of the world was borrowed from neighboring America, and many would argue that the original will always be the best.

With foundations strong enough to support the weight of 56 fully loaded airbus A380s, standing on the Grand Canyon skywalk is arguably safer than standing on terrafirma.

It's perched a daunting 1,220 meters above the Colorado River and 21 meters out from a cliff on the canyon's west rim.

An engineering masterpiece the local Hualapai people say follows the path of the eagle.

While some visitors have no qualms at all even jumping on the see-through walkway, others stick to its less intimidating, opaque edges.

The whole project took four years and 30 million dollars to complete, and even though it opened way back in 2007, it still attracts in excess of a million visitors a year.

While North America has cornered the market in purpose-built structures that put our fear of heights to the test, Australia and New Zealand have made use of existing buildings and bridges to achieve the same end.

Since 1998, climbing the Sydney Harbor Bridge has virtually been a rite of passage for locals and visitors alike.

The original route still takes climbers straight up and over the arch, putting a new spin on the best view in town, alongside, and over, the opera house.

But now it's also possible to weave your way through the structure, popping up between the lanes of traffic, before ascending the inner archway and ultimately, the gang plank spanning the width of the bridge.

The view, looking down on the highway below, is enough to give anyone vertigo.

But the top of the arch is only 134 meters above sea level, half the height of the skywalk that encircles the outer edge of the observation deck on Sydney's Centerpoint Tower, which, upping the ante, includes a balcony section made from glass.

But whatever the Aussies dish up on their side of the ditch, the Kiwis always go one better.

A road bridge you cannot only climb, but jump from.

A walkway around Auckland's sky tower, with no handrails whatsoever, and, the ultimate insanity, a base-jump by wire that will send you plummeting 192 meters into the heart of the city at 85 kilometers per hour!

Bungee jumping, which is now popular throughout the world, took its cue from an ancient fertility rite practiced in the Pentecost Islands, part of the Vanuatu Archipelago in the South Pacific.

This tradition, known as land-diving, dates back centuries.

The most experienced men, with nothing but vines tied to their ankles, will jump from the highest part of the tower, aiming to land as close to the ground as possible.

The higher the dive, the higher they believe their crops will grow.

And the further they fall?

Well, for sure, that's tied into testosterone.

The closer a man comes to scraping his shoulders on the ground, the greater the risk, and therefore, the rush!

The first organized, commercialized, and elasticized version of this extreme endeavor took place in the South Island of New Zealand, where purists can still experience the thrill of throwing themselves from the original bridge, over the troubled waters of the Kawarau River, near Queenstown.

The latest hybrid of this extreme pursuit is the world's highest cliff jump, also known as the Shot Over Canyon Swing.

Since the drop is a daunting 109 meters, you still get to experience the sensation of free-falling, but you don't get the jolt at the end, as the swing smooths the whole ride out.

The key reason why so many people willingly submit to these minimal-risk, maximum-rush style adventures is for the thrill, the chance to push safely past personal boundaries and overcome deep-seated fears.

(dramatic music) Experts say the best way to overcome a phobia is to gradually and repeatedly expose yourself to whatever it is you fear, preferably in a safe and controlled way.

And while bridge climbs and bungee jumps help those with a fear of heights to control their anxiety, they do little for those who suffer from bathophobia: an irrational fear of depths.

For those who are unsure of their fear-of-depth threshold, show caves are a great testing ground.

The formations in the world- renowned Jenolan Cave system in the heart of the Blue Mountains in Australia, keep most people preoccupied with wonder, rather than lingering fear, contemplating the artistry and antiquity that surrounds them.

Some of the formations in the Temple of Baal, one of 300 caves in the Jenolan system, are hundreds of thousands of years old.

Other features are still in the throes of forming, but the cavity itself is ancient.

At 340 million years, it's the oldest known cave in the world.

Mother nature has cooked up a feast for sore eyes in this particular cavern, with shawls that glisten like freshly cooked bacon and stalagmites like white chocolate fountains.

Overhead, thin straw formations hang like spaghetti that's failed the al dente test miserably by staying on the ceiling for ever while noodle-like helictites do their level best to defy gravity by growing sideways.

Serious caving, or spelunking, takes the exploration of the Earth's underbelly to a whole new level.

It is not a sport for the faint-hearted.

Right off the bat, and quite possibly beginning with bats, there are half a dozen other phobias that might surface on descent--xenophobia, the fear of the unknown, nyctophobia, fear of the dark, and, crowd favorite, claustrophobia, a highly rational fear of small spaces.

There are hundreds of caves in Australia, where adventurous travelers can give caving a go.

But on the other side of the Tasman, New Zealanders have given the sport a little more funk.

The first stage of the Black Abyss Tour, which ventures through the Ruakuri Cave system in New Zealand's Waitomo region, involves a series of abseils, descending 35 meters through a vertical sinkhole that has widened out over the eons by the acids present in rainwater.

Around about now, it's probably worth mentioning that to most speleologists, 35 meters isn't all that far underground, not compared with the deepest cave their fraternity has discovered in the mountains of Georgia.

Its depth of 2,212 meters would be a bathophobic's worst nightmare.

The next stage is a little easier on the anxiety, for the passageways barely require visitors to stoop.

And the log crossing, while a little slippery when wet, has safety lines to hook into and hold onto on either side.

The deeper you descend into the black abyss, the more spectacular the formations become.

Indeed, it's said to be the best-dressed cave in the country.

The final phase in this adventure makes one final descent into the abyss, using a flying fox to ensure the so-called cathedral's treasures are kept well out of harm's way.

The cave features here, 80 meters below the Earth's surface, are stunning, all the more so for the effort required to reach them.

While those who choose to explore the black abyss will stay reasonably dry, those opting for an adventure through the black labyrinth sign on for a good soaking.

Here, Ruakari's underground river is in full swing, twisting its way through a series of narrow passages, which slowly widen as the water flows through Earth's version of a block of Swiss cheese.

Tire inner-tubes keep adventurers afloat, while thick wetsuits take the edge off the numbing chill of the 10 degree water.

There's also the additional warmth adrenaline provides, kicking in every time participants are required to make a heart-pounding leap of faith.

It is a comfort to many to know that they're not alone in these pitch-dark, water-filled caverns.

For despite just how hostile an environment this appears to be, it does support other forms of life.

Eels are regularly encountered in the river and glow worms on the cave walls above.

Despite their name, glowworms are not worms at all, rather, the larvae of a primitive fly found only in Australia and New Zealand.

Unless they're really spineless, in the truest sense of the word, cavers have nothing to fear from these creatures, for they're only interested in invertebrates, using the long sticky threads they produce to catch prey such as mosquitoes and midges.

The blue-green light they emit, which is visible through the skin of their abdomens, is caused by a chemical reaction and used to lure prey closer.

It's just as mesmerizing for humans who have dared to enter their lair, but is only visible in complete darkness.

(dramatic music) Nearly all true adventure sports carry an element of risk, a chance that things might not go according to plan.

There's always the possibility, when free climbing a mountain or running from the bulls in Pamplona, that those involved might not live to tell their fool-hardy tales.

And yet inherently dangerous adventures such as these attract willing participants in droves.

What is it about the human condition that drives us to venture beyond what we know to be safe?

And why is what we are willing to wager so different from one person to the next?

The answer lies buried somewhere deep in our evolutionary history.

But for those who repeatedly put themselves in harm's way, the reward will always outweigh the risk.

One of life's riskiest endeavors is also one of its most alluring, for it carries with it the chance to witness the sheer power of nature first hand.

Looking down into a crater, feeling the Earth rumble beneath your feet, is an experience few people on the planet would miss, if given the opportunity.

While many of Earth's volcanoes are thought to be extinct, over 1,500 are considered to be active.

Some are sleeping giants, just biding their time.

But others ooze lava on a daily basis or randomly hurl rock and ash hundreds of meters into the sky.

75% of the world's active volcanoes lie within, or around, the rim of the Pacific Ocean, a 40,000 kilometer arc geologists call the Ring of Fire.

And of those, dozens are regularly climbed by novices and volcanologists alike.

One of the most active, Yasur, dominates the island of Tanna, in Vanuatu.

While the locals live with the threat of a huge eruption one day destroying their traditional villages, which lie at the foot of the volcano, the payoff is that the ash from Yasur nourishes their home soils, helping to create a Garden of Eden to complement their traditional lifestyle.

Here they grow cash crops, such as coffee and copra, which is used to produce coconut oil.

But further inland, they reap a very different kind of benefit from Yasur.

Adventurers from all around the globe have been coming to Tanna for decades; keen to climb what many say is the most accessible active volcano in the world.

Heading out in the late afternoon across a blackened moonscape of fresh ash and hardened lava, it is possible to drive within a few hundred meters of the crater.

The trek up to the rim is surprisingly easy, and provided the wind is blowing in the right direction, adventurers can settle in to a front row seat to watch one of the greatest pyroclastic light shows on Earth!

With thunder rumbling deep within the belly of the volcano and sulfur searing the nostrils, the whole experience is set to engage all your senses.

Each eruption, even those that can be anticipated, come as a complete surprise, terrifying yet mesmerizing all who opt to linger after dusk to watch the show when it is at its best.

(dramatic music) Remarkable places.

Extraordinary experiences.

Adventures that inspire and awe.

There's a lot to be said for getting the most out of life, throwing caution to wind, and taking risks.

With every sense heightened, every fiber tingling, adventurers fly in the face of fear... embracing the highs and the knee-trembling lows of the world beneath their feet.

(majestic music)