madness, absolute madness

This mornings cup of coffee just didnt hit the spot. I guess after yesterdays relaxation I needed a bit more of a kick. This was easily resolved by ringing 'Thrillseekers Canyon' who happen to dabble in a bit of bungy jumping. Why not? I had a relaxing day yesterday in the Springs at Hanmer, and the bungy is on the way out of town, and Im going to Christchurch.

I didnt think it would take much in the way of courage. The handing over of $100NZ wasnt too painful, the terrace view of the bridge that crosses the canyon didnt really fill me with too much trepidation, the walk to the aformentioned bridge that I would be later jumping off wasnt filled with dread although I felt a slight connection with members of the French royal family who had walked to the guillotine. I became slightly more nervous when stood on the edge of the platform, feeling the weight of the bungy cord between my feet and peered over the edge, but I still had the smile on my face.

That all changed when the ever such nice chap told me to jump off the bridge. I did, I screamed. I shouted, "Holy fucking cow". Im sorry, thats all I could think of, and it was completely spontaneous. I wanted to shout, "Kamikaze" or quote some poetry, but instead my brain had lost all sensation of the rest of my body and I was facing death. My brain rebelled and squirmed its way to my feet to get away from the fast approaching ground, and my feet had somehow found hands and were holding on to the ankle straps.

Oh yeah the view of the gorge was great, I love rocks and will become a geologist.

I write this the day after Cathy has arrived and she has found a 134m bungy in a town called Cromwell. This stamps all over the 35m jump I did at Hanmer Springs. She wants to film and no doubt study my reaction, as she is curious what my initial words will be as I fall, thinking there is some automatic language response to fear and feels that my reaction might provide some valuable insight. Me, Im crapping myself, and Im afraid the 'F' word will make an important contribution during my 8 seconds of freefall that is available at this 134 metre beast. To put into context, its taller than most buildings in Canary Wharf being equivalent to about 40 storeys. This is just stupid. 8 seconds, thats a book, a biscuit or a blokes phone call. These are all much more productive than jumping again.

One is not amused, or at least the majority of my neurons arent. There is one stupid one at the back going "Yes YES YESSSS, JUMP JUMP JUMP! JUMP!". Im trying not to listen to it, but its got a loud voice. We should get to Cromwell in a week or so. What joy.