This is going to be a long one and I know that I promised I would do little and often but I am sorry!!!



Final full day in Queenstown got off to the expected bang. We did have a couple of beers last night, even though we had decided to take it easy as we had the bungy to do first thing in the morning. We woke nice and early to get to the bungy bus at 8am. Still stinking of beer and having had about 3 hours sleep, we didn’t look like the extreme sports fanatics that we have begun to see ourselves as. Waking up as we walked the kilometre or so to the bungy office, we began to think about what we were about to do. Silence descended quickly and was only interspersed with the words, “Oh my God! What are we doing? Are you nervous?” All pretence at Macho Bravado (I might make that my wrestling pseudonym. “The Lankyweight Champion of the World………MACHOOOOOOO BRAVAAAAAADDDOOOOOOOOO! !” nice ring to it don’t you think?), had gone and even a Starbucks Latte didn’t calm either of us down.

The bus arrived and wasn’t a Wallace Arnold special by any stretch of the imagination. Not that it was falling apart but then again it didn’t have to go off road as the tickets stated that the trip to the bungy site would be taken by 4X4. On the way to the Nevis bungy site we passed the original bridge bungy, also run by AJ Hackett. It stands at about a mere 43 metres but still looked spectacular. The one we were about to do was 3 times higher, the second highest in the World. Scott managed to stop me exiting through the sunroof and I sat down and prepared for doom. As we turned off the road and onto the “off road” track it became apparent that the 4X4 was having a day off and the rickety old bus was taking the track to the bungy site. I might as well face the truth. Not only was I about to leap from a platform, 134 metres (440 feet apparently) above a canyon, but I might have to do it without my fillings.

Pulling up to the site was terrifying. Unlike the bridge or crane bungys, the Nevis bungy is a pod that is suspended above the canyon by three or four bits of string. A tiny cable car carried you over the 50 metres or so to the pod. We could see the operators in there but they were tiny in the distance. Looking down into the canyon was just like watching a roadrunner cartoon. A tiny river winding its way through the gravel and rocks as it shimmered away around the corner. Only it wasn’t a tiny river. It was a proper river that was perfectly capable of sweeping crushed and broken bodies away from the accusing eyes of the Health and Safety authorities.

Having been weighed again we were popped into a harness each and loaded onto the cable car. I was feeling a little better with the harness on as it was clear that I had misunderstood the rules. This wasn’t a head first dive into oblivion or they would have put some kind of contraption on my ankles. Having said that, my legs are like little pieces of unruly cotton that hang from my shorts, so I doubted that landing leg first in the canyon would save me. But at least I wasn’t going head first and therefore the coroner’s photos had a chance of having my pretty little face relatively unscathed. We were told to sit on a small ledge in the pod while we were given a last minute safety briefing (Safety briefing!! Leaping into nothing with a piece of elastic tied on to you like a schoolboy’s first attempt to tie his laces has a safety briefing! If they are going to brief me on safety the talk should begin, “To be safe, don’t jump into any canyons!”). While giving us this talk, one of the very nice chaps in the pod suddenly attached a Velcro sweatband to each of my ankles and then clipped them together. This doesn’t look good. Not only did they trick me into thinking that I would be plummeting feet first while secretly conspiring to send me head first to plant my hung-over face into the base of Suicide Canyon, but they were going to do it while giving me one of Bjorn Borg’s cast offs to complete my ensemble! Maybe I am being picky, but Velcro? I want tungsten full leg manacles if I am going to rely on them to prevent my arse becoming two feet closer to my head! Failing that a suit of armour would do. But a couple of Velcro straps? I had some trainers as a boy that dispensed with laces in favour of Velcro. While they looked nasty and made putting your shoes on a quicker affair, at no point did I ever think “Jesus Christ, these shoes feel safer than Bruce Lee fighting a midget with no arms”. And I seem to remember that when grass, cotton or any other fibrous substance got into the Velcro, it stopped “sticking” as well as it used to. The bungy site had been running a few years by my dive and while there was limited grass around, I am sure that it must have lost a certain proportion of its adhesive qualities! And now I was trusting Velcro to arrest my fall at terminal velocity. It turned out that I was second to jump as one guy was heavier than me. Well two were but remarkably, as with the skydiving, Scott managed to wriggle his way further down the pecking order. I am not saying that he is consciously pushing me into these deathly situations, but it is a bit of a coincidence, don’t you think? We watched the heavy guy shuffle up to the plate. It is about as big as a tray that you might eat your dinner off in front of the Telly and stands proud over the canyon. 321 and he was gone. We watched his descent through the viewing panels in the floor of the pod and he seemed to fall for forever before the bungy tightened and he sprang back towards the heavens. I listened to hear if he was screaming but he was so far below us that we wouldn’t have heard if he was pleading for his life through a megaphone. He was winched up and looked totally amazed and intensely proud all at the same time. I was sat in the preparation chair so I missed a lot of his description and I am not sure that is a good thing or not.

So, I was next. Sat in the chair as the fellahs attached the two inch tangled mass of rubber to the Velcro sweat bands that complimented my skinny ankles. I have been cursed with the height and belly of a giant along with the ankles and wrists of an 8 year old girl. I could easily slip out of the sweatbands, I was sure. It turns out that you bounce twice at the bottom and then release you ankles for the winch back to the pod, hence the harness. I looked at the clip (can’t spell carabineer) and noticed that it wasn’t that substantial either. This is getting worse! My ankles were clipped up and I was ready. “Any last words for the camera?” came the question and I realised that I hadn’t realised that I might actually have to say something cool for posterity. The fear rendered me unable to think of anything cool, sensible, funny or anything and I said a sentence that I can only apologise for. I have no idea where it came from, or why it came to my lips. And I don’t endorse any of the latent accusations therein. For some reason that is still a mystery to me, I looked at the camera and said….”Thank you, Mother!” I have absolutely no idea why! It isn’t her fault I am here doing this! Anyway, back to impeding doom.

Shuffling like a penguin (ankles tied together remember) my steps became shorter and shorter as I approached the dinner tray and I put my arm out to hold onto the side. It is the strangest thing ever, to stand with your toes hanging over a 134m drop, knowing that you WILL be plunging down into the nothingness any second, but only being concerned that you don’t slip and fall! It is like a Marathon runner refusing to walk to the start line in case those few steps are the ones that might tire him out! It really shouldn’t matter how I managed to be falling through the air, but it seemed that unless I jumped when I was supposed to, then it wouldn’t be safe! SAFE! So I was standing on the edge of the dinner tray and looking around me. At the cliffs ahead, back to the side where Scott was taking possibly the last photos of me alive, or at least at my full 6’6” height, even down into the canyon. Then it occurred to me that I wasn’t scared anymore. I had looked over my shoulder when sat in the chair and was really frightened at the height, but now I was stood over the drop I wasn’t. It just felt like I was holding up all the other people. I honestly felt that I had no choice. 3…………2………..1. As simple as that and I was off. I jumped a little. I had intended to leap as far as I could to make it as impressive as possible and not flop off the side like you see on You’ve Been Framed when old women try to get onto a boat. But I just jumped a normal jump as though I was jumping up a kerb. It still looks pretty good but I wanted to fling myself out as far as I could. Fair play to the operators in that they just do it so matter of fatly that you don’t have the time to think about what you are doing. After a second of falling I realised that time was standing still and I considered if I should be doing or saying something. After a moments thought I decided that silence was no good so I yelled as I fell. It honestly was a conscious decision and not through fear as I felt none as I fell.

It was totally brilliant. At least on a par with the skydive freefall, but with the added bonus that the landscape around you changes a lot more rapidly. This makes it absolutely clear to your eyes and brain that you ARE falling very, very quickly towards the Earth. With skydiving, it is all so far away that it could be a picture on TV. But the bungy is naked knowledge that you are falling. There is no other explanation for the sights and feelings as it happens. It IS happening to you. As the bounce came I was surprised to feel that there was no jolt at all. You are caressed to a pause and then gently pushed back upwards. The second bounce was the foot release bounce so I pulled the cord and my feet slowly fell to leave me seated in the harness. I had done it! And lived! What was weird was that I was fine while hanging upside down by my feet, whooping and a hollering, but as soon as I was upright and could see the skinny little carabineer holding my entire weight, plus Christmas pounds, I felt the urge to cling on!

As I climbed back into the pod, Scott was just getting shackled up for his own leap of faith. He did a great job in not looking nervous, but he told afterwards that he was. Shuffling up to the dinner tray and Scott leapt on the 2 of 3…2…1…… as he stated that he wanted to be master of his of destiny! Good lad! As we talked about the leap afterwards…..even though he did jump out further than me…… we agreed that it was a brilliant thing to do. Not just the feeling of rushing at the ground, or even the scenary so high up, but more because WE had to make the move that caused it. With the skydiving, it was the fellah strapped onto our backs that made the move. Not with bungy! There was another guy who followed Scott who jumped before the operators were ready….completely outdoing Scott and his jumping on 2! But the best one by far was the Austrian bloke who, when asked to smile for the camera, only managed a grimace of what looked like agony. He jumped and, upon his return, made a jaw dropping statement. It will be so hard to put this into words but I will try. Thinnk Arnold Schwartzenegger as The Terminator, or more closely Ranier Wolfcastle as McBain from The Simpsons and say the following. And I swear that the Austrian fellah was still dangling over the canyon…………”Highly recommended!” Totally monotone. No emotion. Brilliant.

In the afternoon we went White Water rafting and it was a pleasant trip down river but definitely not exciting. Quite crap really. The most scary bit was the drive to the launch site over incredibly thin roads where the bus was hanging over the cliff and being driven by a really skilful (And attractive I must say!) Gemma who must have weighed 8 stones wet through! The rafting itself was unremarkable due to the river levels being very low so I won’t bore you with it. A quick stop in Christchurch to drop Scott at the airport as he is bound for Cairns.

It is really sad to see him go. Not only as he is a great mate but also it means that I am master of my destiny now. We had our rows and sulks but I really will miss him now. Oh well…I am sure he will be having fun in Cairns but if not I will do him the same favour he did me and rescue him right back. Isn’t that a quote from Pretty Woman? Sounds a bit gaywise to me!