Adrenaline junkie

Skydives should be compulsory. Everyone should be made to do one at least once in their lives. It is the best thing I've ever done, bar none. I can't describe the feeling. You have to do it to understand. But I'll do my best just so you get an idea.

The sun shone yesterday. After what felt like days of rain we finally had clear blue skies and hot, hot sunshine. The best conditions in which to see the Abel Tasman region. Lucky, lucky. First off was a day of sea kayaking. I loved it. The sea was flat and it felt good to be active and not just sat on the bus. We saw a seal attacking a squid - throwing it up in the air and slamming it back down into the water. Quite something. There were also loads of jellyfish. Packed lunch was eaten on a paradise island beach - golden sands, turquoise water, lush green vegetation - what more could you ask for?

We continued on to another island for tea and cake, seeing more seals and the feet of two little penguins hiding in the rocks. Then it was back to the mainland with thoughts of the skydive looming. Why had I chosen to spoil a perfectly good day by jumping out of a perfectly good plane? Why hadn't I chosen to hang-glide?

I had half an hour to get changed and start stressing for real, then about a 30 minute drive to the airstrip. I was kitted up quickly and bundled onto the teeny tiny plane feeling more than a little sick - the two instructors got in and sat side by side on the floor (no room either side, that's how narrow the plane is). Us jumpers then got in and sat between their legs, against their bodies, then the two cameramen got in. There was no room for anyone else, so we're talking a small plane here. It bumped along the grass then we were airborne. I cried my eyes out. Because it's the time of the month. Because I might die. Because I was doing it for T. Because he wasn't there with me. Because he can't know how bloody brave I was being. Because I've never wanted to do a skydive in my life. Just because. My instructor, Scruffy, held my arms and didn't try and speak to me and that was great. He occasionally pointed things out, like the peak of Mt Taranaki on the north island poking through the cloud and the hang-gliding members of our group drifting below us. I asked how high we were at one point, thinking we must be almost there. We were only about half way but boy, were we high. I was then asked to put my hat on and the cameramen started getting ready. Scruffy put my goggles on me, the door opened and we started shuffling towards it. From then I felt great. No time to think. No time to worry. The thought of it was definitely worse than the doing of it.

I hung dangling face first over the world. I held on to my harness, hooked my legs under the plane, tipped my head back and waited for Scruff to let go. This all happens in a split second. Then you start falling. Not a plummeting to earth kind of falling. More like a flying, gliding falling. Definitely a good falling. It was cold up there. And windy. And when I screamed or smiled my mouth and cheeks kind of flapped in the breeze. Attractive I'm sure. Then the cameraman appeared beside me. He tipped onto his back and was flying below me taking pictures. That was weird. Before you know it the freefall is over (you're travelling at something like 200km/hr and the freefall only lasts about 50s), the chute opens and you're pulled up. Then it really hits you. You know you're safe. You're floating above the earth. You really, really, really feel alive. It's truly awesome. The scenery was spectacular - vineyards below me, mountains to one side, the sandy beaches and ocean to the other side. We had to do a few spins to line up with the airstrip - that was the only bit that made my tummy turn over and I felt a bit sick, but it was all good fun. Even the landing was smooth. I just had to put my legs in the air, Scruffy put his feet on the ground then told me to stand up. That was it. Over before you know it.

It doesn't compare to the canyon swing. The gravity on that freefall really gets you. Then you really are hurtling towards the ground. This is much more gentle, more time to take everything in and truly beautiful. I was buzzing. I couldn't stop grinning, I was jumping up and down. I loved every minute. You have to do one. I can't recommend it enough. Just make sure the weather is good and the scenery is worth seeing from the air. Don't just jump for the sake of jumping. I never ever thought I'd say this, but maybe I'm officially an adrenaline junkie. I certainly feel stronger, braver, prouder and happier as a result of doing all these activities. I wish I had been this person when T was alive. He would have liked it. I could have related more to him. Now I understand him and his various addictions so much more. And love him all the more for that.

PS I only have one regret about yesterday and that is calling my mum at 6.15am UK time to tell her I was OK. I added 13 hrs instead of deducting (I blame the high I was on), so thought it was 8.15am and she would be keen to know I was alive. Oops. Sorry Ma. I hope the phone ringing so early didn't worry you more. And that you managed to go back to sleep.