The Further Adventures of an Idiot Abroad Read Free

in a type of cable car that was suspended 134 metres above the Nevis river. The minute we stepped off the cable car, back it went to
pick up more people – the idea being that by the time it gets back to the platform I would have jumped off and be ready for my return. Loud rock music was playing out of speakers, which I
presume was to get you pumped up ready for the jump. I stood in the middle of the platform like a trapped fly in a spider’s web.
    I was introduced to Phil, a pony-tailed instructor, who was in charge of safety. He had me sat on a chair in no time, strapped my ankles together and hooked me on to the massive bungee cord. At
this point I still didn’t know if I wanted to do it or not. I’d stopped saying ‘definitely not’ and was willing to see what happened.
    Phil explained the process. ‘So, we’re gonna put you in a set of ankle cuffs, go out to the edge, and you’ve just got to listen to us, OK? Nothing bad can happen once you leave
that edge. You’re gonna get the best feeling you’ve ever had in your life. Guarantee it. So, the idea is you’re gonna do a nice big forward dive out, just like going into a
swimming pool, OK? A belly flop. Can you do that? You’re gonna go down, you’ll enjoy a couple of bounces, and we’ll bring you back up.’
    Phil said all this very calmly in the same tone that a negotiator would use to change the mind of someone who was thinking about committing suicide by jumping off a bridge, the difference being
he was trying to get me to jump. He shuffled me to the edge with my ankles bound. I’m not afraid of heights – I was quite happy looking out at the mountains and taking in the fresh air
– but it was the idea of leaping that I couldn’t get my head round. At this stage, I still wasn’t sure if I was going to do it or not. My heart was pounding and I was now aware of
my heavy breathing. The platform shook as the cable car dropped off more people.
    KARL : There’s a queue over there of people waiting to do this! I’ve been in New Zealand for under 24 hours, I’ve hardly seen any
     people, and the most people I’ve seen are queuing up to do a bungee.
    SAM : That’s what people come to New Zealand for. Travel to the top of the world to jump off it, man. This is the point.
    KYLE : I believe you can do this, bro.
    KARL : Yeah, but don’t be saying that. Are you going to be disappointed if I don’t do this?
    SAM : No, but we’ll be stoked if you do.
    KYLE : Yeah, we’ll be over the moon if you do.
    SAM : There’s only you, it’s not about anyone else. It’s not about who wants you to do this. You’re the only person that
     can make you jump off the edge. It’s just you and that space between fear and total excitement.
    KARL : My brain is saying no.
    SAM : Of course it is.
    KARL : My stomach’s saying ‘don’t be stupid’.
    SAM : Your entire being is saying ‘this isn’t making sense’.
    KYLE : Yet there’s a little bit in there that’s saying do it.
    KARL : No, I haven’t got that bit. I’m not hearing that.
    KYLE : You’re out here now, aren’t you?
    SAM : It’s that little element that wants to kill the tiger, that wants to ride the lightning . . .
    PHIL : OK, you ready?
    KARL : Errmm, hang on a minute. Errmm . . .

    KYLE :
COME ONNNN! YEAHHHH!
    SAM : It’s proving to yourself that you can quieten that voice in your head that says don’t do it.
    This is the part I don’t understand. Surely you should listen to the voice in your head. It’s when you stop listening to that voice that you get yourself into trouble. If I
didn’t listen to it at this point, would it ever speak to me again? I wouldn’t if I was it.
    The problem is, these days you have to listen to too many parts of your body. Sometimes I go with my gut feeling, some say go with what your heart says – it’s only a matter of time
before my appendix will have an opinion. This is probably why there are so many helplines these days. No one knows who to bloody