Today* I went Paragliding. Over the French Alps. And it was PHENOMENAL. Positively one of the best 12 minutes I’ve ever spent. I wish it had been longer.
I rode up the lift (Roche de Mio) to meet a French Man: Phillipe, was his name. He had a lovely french accent, and a brilliant french attitude. I didn’t know what to expect, really. There was alot of talking, but in French. He spread out a gorgeous red, blue and white parachute behind us (which reminded me alot of when I went to watch Rob + John go Kitesurfing). He clipped me into a harness, and then clipped himself on.
We stood on the edge of a cliff, we did. I was nervous, we were up quite high (2739m above sea level). I was shaking a bit, looking over the edge, and I could feel the adrenline kicking in.
And then, quite suddenly, Phillipe told me to run. I wasn’t expecting this, because there was less than a metre between me and the cliff. I guess that was the point, but he did have to tell me twice. I pushed off, put my left foot down on the snow, and then my right foot hit nothing but air. And then we were soaring.
Literally, miles and miles above the world. The people became smaller than ants, the cable cars became thumb size, and oh how we flew!! Around in circles, close to the cliffs, over drops and valleys, with the wind whistling by, freezing my exposed cheeks (till I was clever enough to pull up my mask), fast and cold and brilliant.
All too soon we were over Belle Plagne, swirling around in circles, the same way birds do. And all too soon Phillipe was telling me to run in the air, and before I knew it my feet were back on the snow.
It was phenomenal, a giant rush, and I was on such a high the rest of the day. Brilliant.
Number 108 – Done!
* When I wrote this it was today. When I posted it it was not today.