In The National's new series, writers explore ways in which they've pushed themselves, be it mentally, emotionally or physically, and reflect on what the experience has taught them
I’ve always been an adrenalin junkie, and try to incorporate adventurous activity into most of my holidays.
Over the years, I have gone tandem skydiving in Cape Town, white-water rafting in Bali, parasailing on my honeymoon in Phuket, hot-air ballooning in Cappadocia, walking with the Mukuni Big Five lions in Zambia, whale-watching in Iceland, and dog-sledding in Norway.
There are many activities I wouldn’t commit to, too, including abseiling up or down vertiginous cliffs and off-roading through rough terrain in an ATV. They simply don't appeal.
While bungee jumping is on my bucket list, I was worried it might injure my back. Plus, the thought of actually leaping off a bridge scared me.
Sure, I’ve jumped off a plane to skydive, but that was done in tandem with an expert and somehow felt easier. I was also with friends, and the group energy was contagious and relieved any jitters. Plus, I was 15 years younger.
When I visited New Zealand in September, I included picturesque Queenstown on my itinerary, which is a popular adventure sports destination. Accordingly, I factored in zip lining in Kawarau on my to-do list.
The zip line overlooked the bungee jumpers milling about Kawarau Bridge. However, the more I watched others jump from the viewing platform, the more convinced I became I could not do it, despite the temptation, even urge, to seize the opportunity while in Queenstown. After all, where better than the site of the world's first commercial bungee jump?
Then I happened to get talking to a man from India who had just finished the 43-metre jump. A doctor, 64, he told me how thrilled he was after taking the plunge, despite a pending knee replacement surgery and intermittent back pain.
My instant thought: If he can pull it off, what's stopping me?
I paid for a jump on a whim and waited in line to be harnessed up, surprised at how I confident I suddenly felt. However, when my turn to jump came and I shuffled out to the edge of the bridge, all my doubts came flooding back and I froze. I imagined I was leaping to my demise as I stared at the water below.
When I finally gathered the courage to jump, though, it was the most exhilarating feeling I've experienced. Ever. I felt a sense of pure freedom as I soared.
What I learnt
You only live once. I am not sure if I will ever take the 17-hour flight to Queenstown again or be in good enough health to bungee jump later in life. As such, I was glad I trusted the process and seized the moment.
While the crew were encouraging and supportive, they never pushed or pressured me to jump, which is comforting to others who might feel nervous – it’s up to you to take the plunge.
Given it was ultimately my decision, I feel proud that I did it on my own terms.
I was also glad I tested my limits and stepped outside my comfort zone. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I lived to tell the tale.
Would I do it again?
This is tricky terrain. I am in two minds because I have ticked bungee jumping off my bucket list and had a satisfying experience to boot.
But now that I have overcome the fear, perhaps the second time will be more enjoyable and maybe I'll enjoy the free fall instead of merely getting it out of the way.
What to know if you try
Make sure to jump quickly once you are at the end of the bridge. The longer you contemplate, the scarier it looks and the tougher it feels.
Look ahead of you and fix your gaze on a mountain or a tree rather than focusing on the drop if you're nervous. Smile for the cameras at some point, too, so you can record photos and videos as keepsakes and to share with friends and family.
Have confidence in the crew, who are all highly trained and double-check safety protocol before letting you jump. Remember to leave valuables behind and empty your pockets.
Finally, accept that to feel fear is normal. But what follows, at least when it comes to a bungee jump, is sheer bliss.
