The 3rd of May came around and my whole reason for being in Byron Bay pounced. An early start to the day, a manic bike ride into town and a short wait for a bus to Tyagarah. Now, Tyagarah is an airfield and my reason for being there was to jump out of a plane at 14,000ft...I was terrified! I got suited and booted, met my tandem and photographer and we made our way onto the plane. It didn't particularly occur to me that the last on the plane would be first out the door so on I got a little none the wiser, 4,000ft up, assuming we were nearing the jump point it dawned on me - my instructor just laughed! We were bloody high up and despite some distant cloud, the views were phenomenal! When the time finally came to jump, the door was flung open and the wind rushed in, there was a total sensory overload and a bit of false advertising kicked in as my guy pushed me out of the plane...no "Ready, Steady, Go", no countdown just BAM!


Hurtling toward the ground was the single most terrifying thing I have ever done and despite putting on a brave face for the camera, I was totally bricking it. As time passed I relaxed and the exhileration took over, 60 seconds passed in what felt like a life-time. Eventually, the parachute was released, the huge canopy ballooning overhead and we began a fairly rapid and painful (to the crotch) spiral descent toward the airfield. I had a little go at steering the parachute and before I knew it, we were back on solid ground, a little hoarse and slightly deaf!

Having been up at 6A.M., thrown out of a plane and home by 9.30A.M. I had a whole day to kill. Being the only English speaker in my hostel, friends were scarce so I made my way down through the creek behind the hostel to a nearly deserted beach. Considering it was a public holiday there was hardly anyone there and it was beautiful. I walked for hours along the soft sand where I ended up falling asleep in the sun. The walk home was equally beautiful as the sun set across the bay.