Waking up on our first morning in Creel, still in Copper Canyon territory, we decide for some inexplicable reason that mountain biking is in order. I temporarily forget that I’ve only ridden a bike about 3 times since the age of 10. We set off from the hire place armed with a hand drawn map provided by the bike owner and no sense of direction. I’m a little wobbly at first but I guess the saying is true – you never forget how to ride a bike. Managing not to embarrass myself by falling off in front of the locals as we ride up the main street, we soon leave the little town behind.

It’s often hard work over stone filled dirt roads that constantly go up and down (mostly up it feels like). We manage to follow the suggested route through some local villages, past cows and pigs but not many people, to a lookout and a large lake. About halfway through the day, my groin remembers I don’t like riding bicycles and I need to take a 10 minute rest face down. Apologising to my nether regions, I make it back on the bike after we walk up a rock face to a bird’s eye view of village valleys. All slightly exaggerated complaining aside, it’s a great way to explore the surroundings of Creel.