Monday, 19 December 2016

I jumped out of a plane... while still in Australia (part 3)

I've flew on many different planes in my lifetime and never particularly had the urge to jump out of one. It's just not a natural thing to do, is it? I've often fought the urge to shove a few Speedy Boarders out an emergency exit once we've took to the sky. Smug bastards. That's a whole different story, though. But a skydive? No thank you. So I was somewhat surprised to find myself strapped to a man named Max at 15,000ft ready to be thrown to my grizzly end the other day. Peer pressure, sense of adventure, death wish? I'm not sure what pushed me into stepping foot in that plane. But surrounded by my new mates ready to experience the ultimate high I'm glad I bloody did.

It's hard to describe the feeling of free falling through the sky at hundreds of miles an hour because it's simply impossible to compare to anything. I felt weightless in every single sense. All fear abandoned. My mind clear. A state of complete bliss. I was naturally a bit nervous in the seconds before... And by 'nervous,' I obviously mean completely shitting myself. Thankfully my main man Max didn't have time for this and rather than a countdown it was more of a 'five, four, now get the fuck out you pussy.' Pushed with seconds to go before I could even process what was happening. 

The only disappointing aspect was once we'd pulled the parachute and were gliding to our landing spot, all the stunning views of the Barrier Reef and surrounding Aussie landscape were swapped for what looked like the Emmerdale opening credits. Sadly grassy fields look the same wherever you. Half way around the world and I felt like I was in the Yorkshire dales.



If I had to compare Cairns to anything it'd be Panic! At The Disco's second album. It had all the hype but none of us were particularly feeling it. Sadly this was also the city my new found squad would be bidding goodbye to each other in. I'm still a bit sad about this. I'm very much one of them people that gets attached easily and often spends days mourning the loss of strangers I've fallen in love with on tube back home. So saying goodbye to the group I've just experienced so many life changing things with was a bit shit. Nevermind, eh. 

Ignoring the skydive, the majority of our time here was spent simply enjoying each others company. How old school. We also cooked a big fucking BBQ by the beach to celebrate a birthday. Well, Jordan did while we watched. Our very own travelling chef. I suppose it's true what they say though: all good things must come to an end.

Thankfully my trip weren't though, off to Sydney I flew! If you weren't feeling that closing quote, here's another for you which a slightly odd German man told us in our hostel: 'What doesn't kill you makes you harder.' He's apparently been watching some kind of Kelly Clarkson gay porn spin-off.

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