Skydiving in Córdoba, Argentina

I will write about the road trip we took, but thought I would talk about the skydive I've just done while it's fresh in my mind.

Of all the things I never thought I would do in my life, a skydive is quite high up there. Extreme sports don't generally interest me and the mentality of an adrenaline junkie is about as far removed from my own as is possible. Nonetheless, when Eyal told me he was going to do one I couldn't help but be intrigued. My brother Justin had made a case for watching a bullfight when I was in Madrid, stating that I should experience something before casting judgement on it. I didn't feel that I could follow this in that instance as it was a moral decision, but with skydiving, it seems reasonable. So I resolved to see what all the fuss was about and signed up.

This morning, the worries started to fill my mind. I tend to think about things in my life in a way that, someone might be forgiven for thinking, indicates some sort of belief in fate, that someone or thing is pulling the strings. I don't. I believe that aside from our own and external, earthly influences, life is chaotic and random. But, perhaps a hangover from my Church of England upbringing, I look at future eventualities with a perspective on what seems "right" or "fitting". To me, that morning, it started to seem fitting that just after landing a new job in Lima, Peru for 2 years, something bad would happen to prevent its fruition. Once we had set off in the car towards the hangar though, my fears were replaced by an excitement. The reality of situations in my life don't tend to sink in until the last minute. It was because of this that I was able to hand in my notice and book my flight to South America with a nonchalance that was inconsistent with the gravity of the decision. So once I had put my irrational imagination to the back of my mind, what I was about to embark on became unreal again.

This lack of realisation continued right up to the last moment, with the occasional lapse. One such lapse came after I read the disclaimer before having to sign it. It was written in what seemed like (although my legal knowledge is non-existent) a poor emulation of legalese. It began, "Be known by all men that I Warren Quinton... hereby formally disclaim liability, in respect of demage (sic), physical or otherwise, that tandem jumping might inflict in (sic) me". I dislike any such documents. For me it drives home the stupidity of much human behaviour in our pursuit of thrills. That we would sign a form to say we are willing to do something with a risk of death entirely of our own volition is a madness. I ignored this feeling, however, and signed the form.

I was second up to jump. I wanted to get it done relatively quickly not so much because I was getting nervous, more because I was just bored of waiting around. I was surprised at how calm I remained. I guess it was a mental struggle, but I knew that the key was to ignore the creeping realisation of what I was doing. Eyal wanted me to act up for the video camera; I stayed calm and quiet, occasionally saying the odd word, gesturing with thumbs up or waving when prompted. The flight was great as the view was incredible. We continued to ascend and things got smaller and smaller. My professional tandem partner, Alejandro, had gone to sleep. I felt at ease. I think a great deal of my calm came from the fact that Alejandro seemed to know what he was doing.

I had been slightly worried when they had explained what we had to do at various stages. When we jumped, we had to keep our arms crossed across our chest, put the head back and kick our legs behind us. This seemed far too much to be thinking about when in a state of fear as I thought I would be. But when it came to the jump, all was well. It was such a rush and the free-fall, lasting about a minute, was incredible. I haven't a clue what went through my mind, but I don't think it felt real. That is to say, even then, it hadn't registered that I was actually free-falling towards the ground at a ridulous speed. When the chute opened, it was quite a strain on my legs. I ignored the pain and enjoyed the gentle descent. A couple of times, Alejandro manipulated the chute expertly, allowing the wind to spin it so I gained a 360-degree panoramic view of Córdoba, although this less than gentle movement did make me feel pretty nauseous.

When we landed, I hadn't lifted my legs sufficiently as instructed and landed on my knees which was a little painful. But I felt amazing. I still don't understand people who live for the thrill of activities like this, but I at least understand people's reasons for doing it. It's not something I will do again for a long time, perhaps I never will again, but it was definitely an experience worth doing.