Lower levels:

Navigation:

"When you get to Queenstown, you MUST do the Awesome Foursome" - so sayeth the soothsayer.  Actually, so sayeth the baker from the New Forest, Hampshire.

Yes, peer pressured from the other side of the planet, I fondle the A4 brochure in the tourist information centre while Isobel pick out a range of brochures from adrenaline pumping telegraph pole climbing to sedentary wine tasting - all of which avoid the one thing she refuses to do on account of her fear of heights - Bungy Jumping.

And good on her. I decide it would be rude of me to go and do this without her - perhaps I'd better go  with her on a wine tour perhaps?

Suddenly she's decided on something - the A4. Eh? we're going to book the Awesome Foursome???

In a mad moment, we're booked on for the day after our river surfing. We have 48 hours...

The next 48 hours are tortuous as we envisage having fun on the Helicopter rollercoaster ride, white water rafting and jet-boat... then return to the 164 metre plummet that is the Nevis Bungy.

A few facts here - Nevis is the worlds longest bungy jump. The original being a mere 60 metres. Its done from a 'pod' suspended by cables across a valley which can only be reached in an open cart suspended from one of the cables.  One in ten refuse to jump - and those that do are rewarded with a 7.8 second freefall towards a rock strewn river. Adrenalin overdose.

Arriving at the site is nerve wracking in itself - the four by four bus climbs up a gravel road which drops away on both sides into rocky valleys. As if we weren't nervous enough, our driver speeds around blind corners and brakes hard to shake up his passengers en route.

At the summit, we enter a hangar where kit up and weigh in. Then they announce the running order - heaviest first. I look at the board... I win by one kilo. Great!

Out to the pod then... and looking down it looks more like a map than a real valley.

The pod holds twenty or so, and sways gently as we move around - large areas are glazed and one side open revealing a glorious morning and a long drop for me.

Into the 'chair of despair' and I'm instructed to set the tone for the day - as first to jump my style will either inspire those who follow, or scare the bajeezus out of them. I nod sagely, and ignore them.

Then I'm up, and shuffled out onto the edge of a one foot square platform - looking down I see the river far, far below me. Its time to pray.

The countdown from five commences. And by 'one' I'm already leaning too far forward to abort... I push out and spread my arms - and fall.

Now, 7.8 seconds may not seem like long. Its about the time a Porsche turbo takes to go from naught to a hundred. I've reached terminal velocity well before then - naught to brown trousers.

The deceleration is slow and progressive as head for the bottom - some 30 metres above the waterline. The valley looks very different now and I swear I know every rock on the side of the cliff.

Then the bounce up - to around a third of the height of the jump - this is actually the most terrifying part as you suddenly go weightless at the top of the bounce and feel as though you're no longer attached to the line for a second.

The recovery is superb. Pulling a line you detach your legs from the harness and swing into a sitting position - then a devious device slides down the line and connects with your harness and you're winched back up to the pod!

Getting back onto something solid is an amazing feeling... I'm charged up and everyone wants to know how it feels. Awesome!

We watch as the rest of the troupe jump - the best being an old Japanese chap who has donned a black catsuit with white tape to simulate a skeleton. He jumps with a ten foot streamer with 'Stop the War' written on it. Asked why, he replies that he is 'Japanese Crazy Man', and then 'Me Japanese Kamikaze'. What war? No one knows...

Isobel is next.

Into the chair of despair she goes. The instructions are rattled off. She looks confident.

Then she's led to the jump platform.  I watch from the side. Her toes are on the beginning of the platform but after a few seconds she's not moved forward to the edge of the Abyss.  The jump master is talking to her - "you're thinking too much, don't worry - you'll love it". She inches forward. 

More talk - I know how she must feel now. Isobel is now standing on the edge of the worlds longest bungy, not too shabby for one who gets vertigo on a ladder, but the dilemma now is one of fear of potential ridicule versus raw fear.

As they attempt a countdown, Iso chooses the former path. And the staff silently and rapidly de-shackle.

I'm relieved and proud of her for choosing not to leap - her fear of heights is tangible and yet she put herself though the worst of it - the build up. In my opinion, it takes huge amounts of nerve to back out at the 47th hour, 59th minute and 57th second.

So, no Jump, but no shame...

They got their one in ten, and we got a refund!

Navigation: