Take a parachute and jump

Trip Start Nov 01, 2004
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Trip End ??? ??, 2006


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Friday, November 11, 2005

When we crossed back over the Tasman Strait to Wellington we did the exact same things as we did the last time - ate great Malaysian food and wandered around the Te Papa Museum. Not very exciting but when it costs $4 an hour to park your car you don't hang around too long. Our bit of sightseeing consisted of driving around in rush hour traffic for a while. Probably not the best way to see a place.

After all the walking on the South Island we decided to tackle the Tongariro Crossing, billed as New Zealand's greatest day walk. Volcanos, craters, emerald lakes and snow awaited us. Unfortunately we couldn't see any of the spectacular scenery because the visibility was terrible. We spent the day walking in a cloud, constant rain and 50 km per hour winds that threatened to blow us off the volcano ridges. It was pretty scary stuff. Especially when everyone else seems to have proper hiking gear. Although after a bit of reflection myself and Brian have decided it would be better to die of hypothermia than get caught in public wearing those horrific, stripy, thermal leggings. In the face of such adversity all the walkers from our hostel stuck together and held hands over the really tough bits. And then we promptly split up again when we were out of danger!

We then decided to drive a few hundred kilometers to see some worms. The glow-worms in the Waitomo Caves were pretty spectacular and worth the drive. And there's no bad weather in caves which was appreciated.

Brian for some unknown reason was a bit reluctant to jump out of a plane and plummet at 200k/hr towards the earth. But to my surprise within 5 minutes of arriving in Taupo he had us booked in to jump at 8.30am the next day. When we got to the skydive centre the next morning we were geared up and put in the plane before we could chicken out.

If you're going to jump out of a plane and put your life in the hands of your tandem skydive master you want him to be called something butch like Brad Rock. Luckily for me my guy was called Brad Rock - a big hunk of a man from South Africa. With that sort of name I was pretty certain he'd been jumping out of planes since he could walk despite his claims that it was only his second day. I later found out he spend most of our freefall smacking my arse (Kev Elliot style). Luckily he remembered to pull the parachute chord before it was too late and we floated merrily down to the earth. One of the best things I've ever done. Even better than looking at worms.
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