Shiver Me Timbers!

Location: Whitby

Friday 16^th September

Arrived at Whitby Holiday Park, without too many run-ins with scary roads, and were pleasantly surprised to find that it’s set on top of a cliff which overlooks Saltwick Bay. It also had a stunning view of Whitby Abbey too – it was a perfect base. Pretty much as soon as we’d settled down with a bottle of wine, the heavens opened. The wind had by now picked up an awful lot too. Pink lightning lit up the entire sky out across the sea and thunder vibrated the ground low and rumbling. I imagined it was a night like that when Dracula washed up to shore.

Sat in darkness watching the lightning for a while, and then Will, Angela and the kids came round to our caravan. We watched The Lost Boys and chilled out.

Saturday 17^th September

Whitby Pirate Day

Dressed up in our pirate outfits and strolled along the cliff top and then down into Whitby. Got stopped by numerous Japanese visitors along the way for photos, and my arm was aching by the time we got there, because I had to hold on tight to my hat to stop it from blowing away.

Had a look along to the bandstand near the pier to watch some of the bands, had a walk along the pier and had a general meander about Whitby.

There weren’t too many other pirates about, but it was definitely busier than last year. Had a few drinks in the usual watering holes – The Pier, The Jolly Sailor and The Dolphin – and also had the mandatory fish & chips sitting outside on the wall (well, Derek and Marvin did – I don’t like fish!)

By the time we walked back along the cliff top to the caravan, it was dark and eerie. We ordered pizza and, by the time we’d eaten it, we’d all crashed and burnt.

Sunday 18^th September

Ouch, bad head. I’m never drinking again!

Home time L …until next year!

Jumping off at the steep end in Niederau

Location: Niederau, Austria

July 2007

“I want to do that,” Derek said.

We were sipping coffee in a tyrolian cafe watching brightly coloured paragliders float from the top of the mountain to the bottom like cartoon jellyfish. The sky was clean and the sun was hot, yet Derek’s words chilled me.

“Are you mad?” I gasped.

Next morning I found myself in a cable car next to Derek and two young Austrian paragliders, Michael and Karl. They reminded me of Bill and Ted because they laughed in an excitable way as we made the steady ascent to the top of the mountain. In their bright orange jumpsuits, I tried to imagine they were taking us on an excellent adventure.

“So, have you done this before?” Michael asked in his thick Austrian accent.

I shook my head and gulped, wondering whether I still had time to back out. Somewhere along the line, in a moment of foolish competitiveness, I’d talked myself into doing a tandem jump. If Derek could do it, why couldn’t I?

At the top of the mountain Karl harnessed me up, and we found a suitable slope from which to launch ourselves.

“When I say run,” he said, “I mean run. Don’t stop and don’t go slow, it could be very dangerous.”

Great, more pressure. It was bad enough the harness straps were sticking into places that would make walking difficult.

Derek and Michael took the leap first. As a synchronised team, they made it look effortless.

 Karl then tapped me on the shoulder. “Ok, now us. Are you ready?”

I nodded, clenching my teeth. My mouth was dry, my tongue felt too big and the square fields below looked too small.

“Run!”

I ran as fast as I physically could, hoping it was fast enough – and it must have been because soon my legs were scrabbling in the air. I sucked in deep and was astounded by the instantaneous peacefulness all around us. We billowed softly at first, until Karl yanked on the guide ropes making us spiral and plummet like airborne acrobats. He laughed as I squealed with delight. Slowing down once again, we drifted. Legs dangling, suspended in the air. I could smell the medicinal aroma of pine trees as we passed overhead, and I looked across the rich valleys to mountain peaks in the hazy distance.

When the field below us grew larger at a quickening pace my feeling of serenity was suddenly smashed. Was I to lift my legs in the air or land standing?

Tapping Karl’s hand, I yelled into the gushing wind, “What do I do with my legs?”

He shouted something unintelligible back at me, but it was too late, I stuck my legs out. We bounced to a stop and I lay back in the grass.

“Did you enjoy it?” Karl asked.

I nodded, with a grin, feeling triumphant and euphoric – and fortunate that my jarred legs weren’t broken.