(Written earlier)
I have quite a few phobias-- awkward situations, being late, rodents, and height over water.
Traveling alone in foreign countries (being an young American girl just adds to this) has lead me to be in numerous awkward situations. Almost every day. Many are detailed in this blog.
Public transport, and getting lost have made me late once or twice.
I lived in India, so, rodents.
I went off my first, and only diving board at 15 because I had to in gym class. It was only a few feet high and I was petrified.
I also have a weird phobia of high bridges. For some reason my body just panics. I generally have to close my eyes, sing to myself as I go over them. If I'm driving I have to pull over and have someone else drive across. So, naturally, the other day I jumped off a 708 foot bridge-- the tallest bridge you can bungee jump off.
It is illogically high, built between two mountains.
I'm currently taking a little break (you know how hard my day-to-day my life is) and going along the garden route for a few days. Also on the trip are 4 Indians in their mid 30s and a Brazilian couple. I didn't even know bungee was an option until 2 days ago. Until this morning I gave a solid "no thank you." All the guys on the trip were all ready to go (until this morning, that is) while the remaining three of us were a bit more nervous. After being given this tiny harness and a short briefing we started towards the bridge in silence. Safe to say everyone was incredibly nervous. The small gangway that lead us to the middle of the bridge had a mesh netting so I could see straight down. It was my first time voluntarily walking across a bridge, even though I only went halfway. I broke out in a cold sweat. My body naturally gave me a warning, "we're too high, I don't like this and this could kill you." But luckily I didn't fully panic. It wasn't seeing the trees below me that got me. It was looking at the supports for the bridge and realizing how many blocks of concrete there were, all leading down to a small river. A bridge and water-- 2 for 1! Add some rats, make me late, throw in some awkwardness and then we would have really gotten some fun. Once we reached the platform we were told our order (second to last) and given our instructions-- arms out, fall forward and head up.
About this time I started a bit of a nervous dance while smiling. The first guy started to get wrapped up. They velcroed short pads around his ankles and tied a rope around each of his ankles before securing it to the middle. He hopped to the edge with two guys, one on either side. The video monitor showed us his face-- ready for battle. Quite quickly they counted down 3,2,1 and then he jumped. He didn't quite lean forward enough and he clasped his hands so went into a fast nosedive. It felt like he was falling for forever. Panic. The next guy jumped feet first and was snapped down once he reached the end of the line. Panic. The veteran of our group did a beautiful dive. Panic. The first guy returned and looked exhausted, bursting with adrenaline but still a bit nervous. All too quickly it was my turn. The guys working there were great-- efficient, and friendly. The small strap the was tied around my ankles was not so great-- it was about 2 inches thick.
They lead me to the edge while my mind started working, luckily there was no waiting. 3,2,1 and I fell forward. The worst part was the split second my feet left the platform and my body gave me a little warning, "DEATH IS COMING." But, right after I was instantly calm. It's funny what you automatically say without thinking. During my split second fear of death I screamed "oh my god," then, instead of screaming or staying silent I just said, "ohh, this is lovely." It really was. Being weightless truly is a wonderful feeling. Since I was so high up I had plenty of time to take in the view. It wasn't as fast as I thought it would be and I didn't feel as if I was falling. I felt oddly graceful. The snap (which I was worried about) was smooth. It was only once I stopped moving with all my weight firmly on my ankles that I felt uneasy. I stared at those darn supports again. Soon enough a guy who was lowered came down hooked me up and brought me back up. I wished him hello, and asked what I should do. He told me he'd take care of it and as I watched the ascent my euphoria took a little break. Luckily it quickly returned once I was safely on concrete. Funny to think that I then thought of a bridge as safe. The guys unhooking me complimented me on my beautiful fall-- I told then I had had a lot of practice falling leading up to this. The group all came gave me high fives.
I'm not normally one to buy the photos or videos of things I do, but I thought this was worth it.
Here it is:
Next up: skydiving, someday.
