After writing my last article and getting a certain abuse for it, I have decided to write about a more demure subject.
Like Skydiving.

My friend Posy and I went skydiving about 10 days ago.
We had both been seperately thinking about doing it for a while, I mean, I always say I’m going to do all these things all the time- from getting my driver’s license, or boat license to knitting, going to film school, learning german, italian or even Mandarin- and obviously not much gets done.
It may not seem like it, but I can actually get pretty tied up.

So my wonderful friend forced me to go, by being organised, booking in advance and driving to Swindon, the capital of Skydiving!

After getting lost for some time of course, we finally got to the hangar. We were made to sign all sorts of papers and wait a lengthy period of time before it was our turn. First come, first serve innit.

The papers you sign are not there to reassure you of course, they’re pretty indistinguishable to signing your death sentence I would say. Basically no one is accountable for your crash , except for yourself, if such a thing happens.
It’s a good start I guess, no bullshit.
And then you wait… Linger, and dally around some more.
I had the time to have a delicious brie and cranberry toastie, as well as a courgette muffin (no joke), go to the loo, bitch and judge everyone else waiting and choose my skydiving jumpsuit (always remain stylish whatever you do, you never know who might cross your path).
We then had to have a little lecture about skydiving which was of fair interest but almost undeniably necessary.

After about 4 hours, both our names were called up, and oh boy, that’s when the nerves kick in!
We both looked at eachother unnervingly, put on our trendy onesies (Posy looked like buzz lightyears) and got our equipment on (god knows what you call this thing but it straps you on to a man who jumps with you and gives you one hell of a wedgy!).
So we walk and get onto a titchy plane, which takes you up 10,000 feet high (that’s a 15 minutes plane ride).
And then, miracle… The nerves stopped, everything became incredibly exciting…
You see, you don’t face your instructor, you are facing the door and your back is between the man’s stumps.
The whole situation is rather arousing!
When you reach the height required, the instructor then asks you to jump on his laps, and tigthens the harness (found the word!) to his.
You are at this point VERY close to one another.
Then you put on some seriously cool shades, and you’re good to go.
Posy was first, and I was last.

I NEVER experienced anything like it, if I did drugs, this would be better I think.
The thrill is just amazing, it only lasts for seconds, but I would recommend EVERYONE to try (skydiving, not drugs)!
Sadly when you land it’s back to reality, No more Woody (the hot instructor), and no more thrill…

I had to get very drunk that night, and I did dream about Woody and his parachute…

I am now, without a doubt, going to pass my skydiving license!