Hang gliding over Rio de Janeiro (another unrelated random posey picture in previous entry)
December 3rd, 2005
I wake up for the last day in Rio. Descend horrendously high stairs of hostel to ground, must order a cab to airport before breakfast. Lizz is still asleep. The night before we were sipping strawberry caipirinhas at the Copacabana Palace Hotel and eating fine Italian food accompanied grand piano music. But the magic is over, it´s time to pack and get ready to leave.
"Do you want to hangglide today?"
"Uhm, yes."
"Ok, wake up your friend, they are coming to pick you up, you have ten minutes, the weather conditions are still good, hurry!"
Eyes still half open, gulp down quick breakfast (banana, cheese and bread). No time to come to terms with all this. My fear of heights stopped my from climbing down the Pyramids in Cairo and enjoying the view off Sagrada de Familia in Barcelona. Now is NOT the time to chicken out again. I have waited 18 months to do this, on three days that week the wind was too weak for us to do it.
A hot guy is waiting outside in a jeep. A nice perk. When you are just about to confront one of your biggest fear, the nicest thing to numb the pain is the presence of chocolate or a gorgeous man. I jump in the front seat and he drives us to Leblon beach where all the hang gliders are hanging out. They make us sign some kind of disclaimer, then allocate us with an instructor. As we drive from the beach, random men open the the jeep doors and jump in from either side. The assistants. Up the steep twirly mountain in the Tijuca rainforest. Random facts about wildlife. I ask if there are spiders and the assistant enthusiastically says yes. Only one fear at a time for me, thank you very much.
Then there´s the ramp. The height is staggering and my heart is leaping out of my chest. Next thing I know, I see Lizz jumping off. No time for good byes.
The instructor gives me a suit, we do a practise run on the ground, he buckles me onto to the glider while I´m still in utter shock of the mere height. He doesn´t speak any English. "1-2-3-JUMP!!" I thought we were just going to the edge, but we actually jumped. Well, he did I just got dragged along.
There was one second of fear, the intial drop but then its all like floating on water without support. All I can hear is the wind in my ears and I cannot quite understand that this is real. Afterall, 20 minutes ago I was still in bed. Thoughts about insurance policy covering transport expenses for coffins. I picture my parents, dressed in black, standing outside a plane, receiving my coffin in Germany. I spend the first ten minutes staring at the trees and wondering whether they would break my possible fall.
But then the fear vanished, and there was Rio like a beautiful woman, charming and radiant. We are 800 feet (2200 meters) in the air, on one side the rainforest, the other the Atlantic ocean, underneath us the marvellous city. The camcorder is taping the whole thing, without which I still wouldn´t believe it really happened. Lizz is in the air, I wave to her but she doesn´t see me.
Over the sea, the we land on the beach, the crowds glare at us. Bask in glory of public admiration.
My legs are weak, the shock must have gone straight to the muscles. Driving in the car back and the afternoon flight home just seem too easy. Everything is just too lame after you´ve just jumped off a mountain and flown in the air without an engine.