Kiwi travels by Lemmo

After another breathtaking drive from Twizel, we arrived in Queenstown - the place where all the extreme(ly insane) sports/activities happen.  On our first afternoon, we sat in a cafe pondering over the (huge) list of activities that you can do here to decide what we were going to do to kill time (or ourselves) over the next 5 days.

Day 1 (morning) - 109m Canyon Swing (world's largest).  We both thought we'd get the best (worst) of it out of the way quickly.  Having the knowledge that you are about to jump off something from a ridiculously high platform into a canyon has a strange way of hanging over you and interrupting your sleep patterns.  Strange huh?  Anyway, by 9.30am we were driving in a 4WD truck up a steep gravel path (of which there are many around here).  By 10am Elle and I were both standing sheepishly in a wooden building - no, it wasn't a building, it was more of a platform, or even decking, stuck on the side of a gorge 109 metres from a shallow looking, fast moving river a long way below - wearing our swing gear, i.e. 10 kilos of straps and karabiners.  This was a classic moment when you realise you may have made a wrong decision somewhere along the line, probably at the cafe in the afternoon of the previous day...  Having chosen from a menu of jump styles, Elle decided to do a forward jump into a 60m freefall before swinging out into the canyon for the rest of the drop.  After shaking off some initial nerves (she was cacking herself) she jumped off, swung out, was pulled up and loved it so much she did it again! Brave girl!  My choice was to jump backwards - given a 5 out of 5 wet your pants rating (I was also cacking myself).  After some banter with the staff, they had me with one arm stuck in the air falling through the air backwards, dancing like John Trovolta.  Having looked at the DVD replay, I actually looked more like an idiot falling backwards through the air with an inane look of terror on his face as he plummeted towards the rocky canyon river 109 metres below.  There were definitely no hip wiggles or anything else that could remotely be identified as 70s dance moves.  But nevermind.  I loved it.  For my next jump, the staff gave me no choice in style.  They strung me up, head down, feet in the air above me, hands pointing straight down to the river below - this was called, for some bizarre reason, gimp boy goes to hollywood - another 5 out of 5 wet your pants rating.  After staring at certain death for 2 out of a 5 second countdown, the kind member of staff pulled the pin and I dropped, a bit like a pin actually, maybe more of a bullet, towards the canyon floor, swung out and whooped in elation that I had been saved again by the bits of string and metal that connected me back to the platform - sorry, decking - perched precariously on the hillside above.  What a morning.  We both loved this - lots of fun!!

Elle (very wisely) decided to have a more relaxing afternoon, so went to one of the local spa's for a facial and some pampering, however I was not done yet....

Day 1 (afternoon) -  143m (440 ft) bungy jump (one of the world's highest).  Having done a bungy jump before, I wanted to experience one of the biggest - AJ Hackett's Nevis.  At 3pm I was in another 4WD truck, driving up another steep gravel drive to the top of another rather large ravine with an even shallower looking river MILES below me (or maybe that's just how it looks from SO BLOODY HIGH UP!!!).  Before I go on I just want to point out that I'm not so good with heights (yes - being so tall, you'd think I'd be used to it.  Ha ha.)  Therefore, the whole of the next 45 minutes is kind of a blur.  It went something like this...  We got strapped in - more ropes and karabiners.  We had a safety chat (?!?!).  We looked out at the small, metal, purpose built, jump pod (I shall refer to this henceforth as the pod of death) suspended ridiculously high above the gorge, by 4 wires.  I gulped back some bile.  We got into a smaller pod, with a see through floor (?!?!?), that moved us slowly, very slowly, out across the gap to the pod of death.  They strapped some velcro leg warmers around my ankles.  People started jumping.  We could watch this through the see through floor in the pod of death (?!?!? - why?!!).  At this point it goes blurry...  My name is called out.  My name is called out again.  I give someone my camera asking them to take photos - really, I just wanted someone to have it seeing as I was about to die.  I gulped down some more bile.  They sat me in a chair that looked kind of like the ones they tie criminals into before lethally injecting them.  Kind of apt I thought.  They took a photo.  The previous jumper was unhooked.  I was hooked on.  They took another photo (*&*&#s).  They stood me up (I was having trouble on my own).  I took babysteps to the edge of platform (my feet were by this time hooked together, so baby steps were all I could do).  The gaping vastness of the gorge and insane height suddenly filled my vision.  I realised there was nothing to hold on to (*&$*&s).  Somehow I stood with my toes over the platform edge.  Someone behind me started a countdown.  The &^$&* started at 5 instead of 3.  This was unexpected and put me off (weird how the mind works when you're about to die).  The counter reached 1.  The next second was an epic battle between brain (no, no, no, this is way to high, go back, go back, go back) and body (it's too late, I'm falling anyway, goodbye world).  Then I jumped.  I fell.  I fell some more.  I glanced at my watch, drummed my fingers and realised I was still falling.  Then the bungy (thank god, the bungy, I'd forgotten about that) kicked in, I was slowing down and suddently going back up again.  At this point I realised I probably wasn't going to die and whooped, for the second time today.  I bounced.  They pulled me up.  I was a wreck, but I have to say it was an absolutely amazing experience and loved it!!  (If you can love something that you would never do again?!)

That ends an awesome day.  Next update - more stuff from Queenstown.