Skydive the Beach, Byron Bay

July 3, 2012:

The next morning we had a sort of karmic revenge on our noisy, durg-addled (probably) roommates when we got up at 7:15am and weren't able to sneak out as quietly as we'd hoped. We were on the road to Byron Bay, the scenic destination where we had agreed to go Skydiving.

Mentally preparing to boldly go where lots of insane people have gone before is a bit like not thinking about it until you're up in the plane with your legs dangling out and trying to remember the instructions.

But honestly, I'm not big on getting nervous about things before they happen. Worrying about everything before it happens is my sister, Andrea's, favourite pastime. So instead, I watched the scenery as we approached and attempted to help navigate (which requires more concentration than you might think, considering we were driving on the left side of the road).

Brittney and Caitlin, who were most anxious about doing it, decided to go first to get it over with.

Brittney and I would have the skydiving instructor who apparently thrived on joking with people who seemed nervous. He told Brittney things like he shouldn't have had those beers the night before and that he always forgot the order of how to do up the harnesses. I think he was worried that I would be as scared as Brittney because he opted to tell me that in his life he'd done more than 7000 jumps and how he had won awards or something. But I'm getting ahead of myself. All of his "reassuring" comments to Brittney resulted in this:

Meanwhile, I was attempting to pay for my jump in the office with no success. I knew I had enough credit on my card but it kept getting declined. Jay offered me her phone to call VISA in Canada. I was informed that my card had been deactivated and I could feel the blood draining out of my face (honestly, this was more terrifying to me than my impending jump from approximately 9 million feet). My card number was found on a list of stolen numbers and the man at VISA offered to send me a new card while I was in Oz, but I figured this would be too complicated considering our nomadic trip plan and opted instead to have just large charges put through on it over the phone. The man that worked in the office, Caleb, was really nice and told us all about how much he loved Canadians and how he'd lived in Banff for a while. He also told us that skydiving is safer than driving a car (I later took this at face value... I later proved to be a basketcase while driving the Jucy van on the left side of the road). It was calming to know considering that a 10-year-old was being trusted to pack up the parachutes. Thankfully, his grandfather repacked the one he had been working on when he was out of sight.

Jay and I got harnessed up:

 ...and left for the air field. Jay's instructor sat in the back of the limo with us and asked us questions. He was as fun as his Cookie Monster toque with earflaps, which I assume is his signature look. When we got to the air field, I managed to get into the plane the wrong way, and my instructor who was a little European and, as we decided later, a little suave, commented, "Oh, so you're one of those special ones." I couldn't decide if I was disoriented by his quiet charm or the whole trying not to think too much about what I was about to do. The realization that our pilot was probably our age did nothing to quiet our misgivings.

When our airplane took off, we rose higher and higher and moved out toward the ocean. The plane seemed to be perfectly level with fluffy white clouds and I thought about what it would be like to jump out over the ocean. The view alone was worth the trip.

The only thing I remember about what it was like when he finally attached our harnesses was being afraid that I'd put my goggles on wrong and the warmth of his body. It was like only my senses were working and nothing else. The door opening was a massive rush of wind and it filled me up with the kind of pure terror that causes the adrenaline to shoot straight through your veins, leaving only the sensation of being so excited you could explode.

The free fall seemed to go on forever. It was the greatest feeling - having no sense of which direction was up or down and no control over it either. In reality, it only lasted a few seconds, but that's not the way my memory registered it. It seemed to stretch on forever. I felt the tap on my shoulder and raised my arms and legs into the proper position and this part of the fall was almost as spectacular, considering the view.

 

I couldn't keep my mouth closed the whole time, my hands got pretty cold and I couldn't suppress the urge to smile and it was all wonderful.

When the parachute opened, the gentle drop to the ground was peaceful and beautiful. Falling back to Earth is an amazing sensation. The site where we land is where the ocean meets a river and my instructor told me that he has done jumps all over the world, but he chose to work in Byron Bay because it is one of the most beautiful places to Skydive that he has ever encountered. The whole thing was exhilarating. It made its mark on me, too. I didn't realize until an hour after we'd landed maybe, but I had been cut by my instructor's boot or something on my leg, leaving a thin scratch, but our lack of access to medical supplies and an immediate shower meant that I now have a scar commemorating my jump! It's no wonder that it escaped my notice - I had a high from the adrenaline for the rest of the day.

It was like Felix Felicis had kicked in (the magical Harry Potter potion also known as "Liquid Luck" that makes the drinker lucky for a period of time, during which everything they attempt will be successful) I had the feeling I could do anything I wanted, so I decided to drive Jucy on the wrong side of the road.

Zorbing & meeting our Jucy

July 2, 2012:
The first day of our trip to the East Coast, we caught our flight at the crack of dawn (probably) and arrived in Brisbane. Or "Brizzy", as it is known by locals. We easily located the Jucy van pick-up centre and patiently waited to discover our home for the next two weeks.

We loaded it up, and loaded ourselves in, but it wouldn't start. We each took a turn trying to figure out if we were turning the keys wrong, or what, but it seemed we had chosen a dud. In hindsight, this was the first clue that our Jucy van was special and that we should have demanded a different vehicle, but we were lulled into a false sense of security by the maintenance man who simply replaced our engine (if you want to be technical, it was our battery) or some other insignificant detail (!!!!!). So instead we hit the road for a trip full of promise....

We didn't have far to go for our first activity, called "zorbing". Zorbing is listed as an extreme activity and is on par with bungee jumping by insurance standards. I didn't really know what I was in for and I was not assured by the implied intensity of the "z" and the inherent childishness of the "orbing" sounds, but this video clip was enough to convince me that the experience would be hilarious, simply because the concept is so ridiculous:

It turns out the hilarity was not just in making fun of silly ads about it. You can choose to "zorb" with a harness, or in water, and not wanting to get banged up too badly we opted for the latter. It was, in my not so humble opinion, the right choice. It turns out, zorbing is aptly named.

We paired up, Jay and Brittney went first, Caitlin and I went afterward, not missing the opportunity to flirt with our South African "zorb operator" or whatever job title he happened to have (it went terribly as it happens - we were afraid of some dangling bugs and he judged by our reaction that we'd seen a poisonous snake), until we had to barrel into the centre of the zorb ball in our bathing suits. I'm sure that was an attractive sight.

The only way to really describe the feel of being inside the "zorb" ball as it tumbled down the hill, was being on an unpredictable water slide that could bounce you into the air, and that it was impossible to stay up in. We giggled like small children the whole way and immediately wanted to go again. The manager cut us a deal and we got to go again for a quarter of the price! Oh joy!!!

After all of the afternoon's excitement, we were ready to settle in for the drive to Surfer's Paradise where we walked along the beach at sunset. Jay took loads of beautiful photos of us and Caitlin was asked by some other tourists to be in their photos with them.

It was obvious to us why this beach was so popular in the 1950's and 60's as a tourist destination, leading to the urban skyline, and why it would continue to be so, aside from the great waves. We made our way back to Brisbane to spend the night at a hostel, but they were out of parking spaces for our Jucy van, and we had to stay in a hostel room. The room was freezing all night and I had the pleasure of trying to sleep through the late night binge of a roommate with the munchies, scarfing down chips at a decibel comparable to a jackhammer - and with the same speed and intensity, too.

Overall, our first day went amazingly despite some small hiccoughs and we were nervously trying to prepare ourselves for the big adventure we'd embark on the next day.... skydiving!!