דניאל והילי מטיילים בעולם

הקפלר הוא אחד מתשעת ה-Great walks הניו-זילנדיים. טרקים אלו הוגדרו "היפים ביותר בניו-זילנד" והמייצגים ביותר את נופיה. מעצם הגדרה זו נובעים הדברים הבאים:

1. הנופים מהממים ביופיים והמסלול מגוון ושתנה. כבוגרי 4 טרקים כבר חשבנו שראינו כבר את הכל והרשנו לעצמנו לשקוע באדישות קלה אל מול הנופים המרהיבים. הקפלר הצליח להפתיע אותנו, להוציא אותנו מהקונכיה ולסחוט קריאות התפעלות.

2. המסלול מסודר מנוקה מרופד ומאובזר. אם בטרקים קודמים תיארנו איך חצינו נהרות בתחתונים, טיפסנו על הרים משופעים כשאנחנו נאבקים בפיסות סלע מדרדרות ופילסנו דרכנו בחשכה כנגד השעון, בטרק הזה התפנקנו. מעל כל נהר שוצף עמד גשר עץ מסוגנן שנבנה כך שישתלב בנוף באופן מושלם. כשהעליה מעט תלולה אתה מגלה להפתעתך מדרגות שמובילות אותך בפיתולי ההר בנוחות. אם המסלול עובר באזור חשוף לרוח, מיד תגלה מחסה בו תוכל לאכול את ארוחת העשר שלך בשלווה. כשהשלט אומר עוד 4-5 שעות לבקתה תגלה שבתוך שעתיים הבקתה מחייכת אליך באופק.

3. הבקתה חמישה כוכבים. ממוקמת תמיד מול נוף עוצר נשימה, מצויידת בתנור עצים ומעליו חבל כביסה, כירות גז, כיורים, מים זורמים, סבון כלים, שירותים נקיים, נייר טואלט, אור שמופעל על ידי אנרגיה סולרית ועוד כהנה וכהנה פינוקים.

4. לכל בקתה פקח צמוד. באיזור נפרד עם שלט ברור -"Privet"- גר הפקח שהוא בדרך כלל פקחית בלונדינית נאה וחמורת סבר. בשעה 19:30 ולא דקה אחרי נכנסת הפקחית לשיחת חתך. על כולם לשבת מוכנים כשבידם כרטיס משולם מראש המותיר ללון באותו לילה בבקתה. טווח הגילאים בחדר נע בדרך כלל בין 20 ל-70, אך כשנכנסת הפקחית הקשוחה כולנו בני 10. חזרה בכיתת בית הספר - משתדלים להראות תמימים ובלתי מזיקים ככל שניתן ולמשוך מינימום תשומת לב. השיחה נסובה בד"כ סביב זבל: יש לארוז איתנו כל מה שהבאנו ולא להותיר זכר כשנעזוב. "כלל האצבע" מסבירה הסוהרת הוא להשאיר את הבקתה נקיה מכפי שמצאתם אותה. בהמשך תמיד הוראות בטיחות לגבי שימוש בנרות ובכירות הגז. עדכון מזג אוויר למחר, עצות לגבי המשך המסלול,וכשם שנכנסה אל חיינו שבה הפקחית לחדרה המבודד.

5. המסלול פופלרי והבקתות עמוסות. בכל בקתה 40-60 מקומות לינה. שורות שורות של מיטות קומותיים בנויות עץ (משהו בין טירונות למחנה ריכוז). סטטיסטית בבקתה כזו ימצאו: 10 ישראלים - שנים מתוכם יגלו ששירתו יחד בפלוגה ו'. 4 אמריקאים קולניים. 6 שנוחרים חזק. 40 מעילי גשם נוטפים, 120 גרבים מסריחות והמולה גדולה.

6. זה יעלה הרבה כסף. התפנקת? תשלם. לינה בבקתה של Great Walk תעלה כמו לילה במלון. קצת מרגיז בהתחשב בכך שבקתה היא בסופו של דבר מחסה נידח ובסיסי. לא מקלחת, לא חשמל ולא מצעים. לא שציפנו מבקתה משהו אחר, אבל חשבנו שהמחיר יהיה בהתאם. יכול להיות שזה הגנום הישראלי (יו איזראליס דונט טראסט מאץ') אבל אי אפשר להמנע מהתחושה שעושים עליך קופה. חבל להשאיר את פנינותיה של ניו זילנד לעשירים בלבד. בסופו של דבר בלענו את הרוק, שילמנו ונהנו מכל רגע.

הטרק:
צברנו כבר כמעט 100 ק"מ ברגלים. הרגשנו טיילים רציניים. בנינו קצת כושר והתחלנו לחתוך בזמנים. אומרים שהמסלול יקח 4 שעות ואנחנו עושים את זה בשעתיים. אפילו בסופר ההתארגנות ירדה משעתיים ל-30 דקות. הרגשנו מקצוענים. וכמו כל מקצוען טוב, נזקקנו לציוד מקצועני מתאים. עוד בטרק הקודם פזלנו לעברם של טיילים רציניים ולמדנו איזה אביזרים אנחנו חסרים. מקלות הליכה - זה הפלא שפיתה אותנו יותר מהכל. היינו חייבים לנסות. המחשבה לרכוש לנו זוג חלפה בראשנו בעודנו מהלכים במעגלים סביב מעמד המקלות בחנות. מלטפים את הידיות ומחייכים אל המתכת הנוצצת - רק המחיר הצליח למחוק לנו את החיוך. כיוון שכך החלטנו לשכור.
המקלות הוכיחו את עצמם. הרגשנו כמו מכונה משומנת היטב. מצחיק איך פועלת האבולוציה. בהתחלה הלכנו על ארבע, עם הזמן התפתחנו,התיישרנו, שחררנו את הידיים והפכנו להולכים על שתיים. כל זה רק בכדי להמציא דרך ללכת על ארבע שוב. היינו מוקסמים מהיעילות של ההליכה על ארבע. כל הגוף משתתף בהליכה. אתה יכול לדחוף את עצמך עם המקלות, למשוך את עצמך, אפשר להשען עליהם בירידה, להעזר בהם כשמאבדים שיווי משקל, בחציית נחלים או במדידת עומקה של שלולית בוץ. פלא. הצעצוע החדש שלנו עזר לנו לצלוח את המסלול בזמני שיא.

כבר משעמם להגיד שהנוף היה מדהים, מהמם, מקסים, עוצר נשימה - אבל הוא היה כל אלה יחד. 360 מעלות. היה קשה להחליט לאיזה כיוון לצלם. אף תמונה לא מעבירה את השלם, אבל עם זה נאלצנו להשלים כבר מזמן. הדרך היחידה היא לראות אותו בעיניים.

הקפלר הוא מסלול סיבובי שלוקח בין שלושה לארבעה ימים. הוא מתחיל בטה-אנאו, עוקב אחרי חופי האגם, מטפס דרך יער עבות אל פסגות הרי קפלר ויורד חזרה אל אגם מאנאפורי מעברו השני, שוב צולח יער ועוקב אחרי נהר חזרה אל נקודת היציאה. המקומות הבאים הותירו בנו רושם מיוחד:

שולחן פיקניק על חוף חולי נושק לשפת האגם, מתחנן שנאכל עליו את ארוחת הצהרים כשהשמש מחממת את גבנו.

טיפוס בלתי נגמר שמתפתל בתוך יער שנלקח מציור של קלימט (זה שהילי אוהבת) עם עלים מנצנצים בצבע כסף וגזעים אדמדמים מתקלפים, כשברקע רעש עדין של רוח.

הנוף הנשקף מבקתת Luxmore - אצבע של אגם תכול מתלפפת סביב הרים תלולים וירוקים. 

ארוחת הערב הקבועה ביום הראשון של טרק. זו שהתמקצענו בהכנתה. סטייק חרוך בדיוק במידה הנכונה - נמס בפה.

הליכה על צלע הר חשופה, מטר רוחבה, תהום משני הצדדים. נוף כמו תמונה. גשם קל ורוח אימתנית. קור חודר. ממצה את המקסימום מבגדינו המבודדים.

קשת בענן מחברת עמק אל הר. מופיעה ונעלמת עם השמש שמבליחה בין עננים.

עצירה לחטיף על פלג נחל, בין עצים ירקרקים, צבועי טחב.

מירוץ נגד הזמן, אל האוטובוס חזרה דרך יערות שמרופדים במרבד שרכים.

גשרים תלויים ענקיים, חוצים נחל איתן שליווינו אותו עוד כשהיה זרזיף.

המקלחת החמה שאחרי. הפיצה פפרוני והפסטה פסטו. גם הכוס קפה.

Welcome to the land of unlimited possibilities.
For most people it sounds appealing. For me - after 7 years of attending classes, writing reports, keeping up with tight schedules, I find my self almost incapable of making my own decisions. We are now already a month here and our main complaint is having to decide all the time... "what should we cook for dinner? Where should we sleep? Van or privet? what do we want to do next?"
When Daniel said to me: "what would you like to do on your birthday? Anything is possible." I wasn't thrilled but rather slightly intimidated. "Well... We are at a certain point at our trip, I said, the logic thing would be to follow the map to our next planned spot". "Forget logic" said Daniel "we can drive anywhere. Don't be narrow minded. Think big and tell me what you want!"
That's the thing about Daniel. He can get so enthusiastic about something that seem so far from the logic thing to do that you get carried away. When I lived in Rehovot he would call me at 23:00 from Jerusalem and say "are you coming to Dixies to eat spear-ribs?". I would hesitate for a minute - the early class tomorrow, the anatomy lab after it, the capoeira practice following would run through my thoughts and I would say: "what the heck, let's go." an hour later the gray golf would stop by my house and we would be on our way to Tel Aviv... 
I thought and I thought and the only sure thing I came up with was - well - I want to eat breakfast outside. Eventually inspired by Daniel's extreme birthday and following his orders "to think big" I decided: if the sky is the limit - sky-diving is the obvious solution.

It sounds cool when you say it to yourself, but I don't think you actually grasp the meaning of these two words - "sky diving" when you go to the reception lady and say: "we'd like to book a sky dive for two. is tomorrow at 14:00 a good time?" she makes the arrangements necessary on the phone and says: "you'll have to be at the airport by 13:45". Airport? I thought. Didn't she mean office? oh right.. Airport, that's where the airplanes are. I started to grasp the tip of these two words.

ON the B-day we got up and went out for breakfast as planned. Everything was calm. Not a clue to the fact that 6 hours from now I'll be speeding toward the ground at 200km/h. A few hours later we were in the car on our way to the airport. Daniel began talking really fast - it's the butterflies in his stomach. I was still in denial, still more interested with the important question - will they give us a free (cool) T-shirt after we jump? Learning from our experiences in the past, he seems to grasp these things earlier. I stay in denial 'till almost the very end. Probably a defense mechanism - I don't enjoy feeling fear.
We got to the airport and found a large multi-arrowed sign at the entrance: "For scenery flights turn left; Acrobatic flights straight ahead; Heli-flights on your left; Tandem Sky dive (that's us) right." We parked the car. Walked into this huge hangar. Little white airplane on the right, cool T-shirts on the left. I was relived. 
This blond girl started talking to us: "Did you book a dive? Would you like a DVD? Pictures? T-shirts? Do you need to pee? Sign here and here and here (yes you can read first, but hurry!). I accept that the DVD might not turn great, I accept that there are no refunds if I chicken out. I recognise that there are some risks involving weather condition, human mistakes, I accept I might feel dizzy, catch a cold, feel nausea, die, but most importantly they say: I must smile.

You sign. You sigh. You pay.

You get your sky-diving suit, a pilot funny looking hat and goggles. You are assigned to your personal guide. He shakes your hand. "hi, I'm going to be your best friend for the evening. stick to me". He helps you wear the harness. You pray to god he hooked it the right way. He sticks a video camera to your face. "How are you feeling?". "Great" you force a smile with your thumbs up. "Already?" he asks. "I think so"...
We approach this tiny airplane. "How the hell are they gonna fit 8 people in this tiny thing?" I wonder. I'll tell you how: Cramped like candies in a Pez Dispenser. One after the other we sit, each leaning on his guide's legs behind him, trying not to touch the parachute of the one in front (don't want to be responsible for any human mistakes).
As we reach 9000 feet the door opens. You blink , you discover two people are missing. You try not to blink, you see the next pair disappearing, sucked out in a second. I'm next. Attached to my guide I can only make little steps toward the exit. What did they say I must do? put my legs over the edge. Well, I think I can do that. I get a last peek at Daniel. Suppress a thought that this might be the last one. I smile at him. "Wave to the camera on the wing" says the guide. I wave to a cloud. "Now hold your harness". Where? "Now put your head back". I obey, What ever you say. A second later I find myself in a cloud.
A foggy really nice cold smell hits me. It's kind of quiet. I hear only wind. "I'm in a cloud" I smile to myself. Suddenly, everything stars to clear up. I can see the ground. It's really far away.
Diving from 9000 feet (2475m) gives you 30 seconds of free-fall. If I compare the two experiences - sky-diving and bungy. At my bungy jump I felt gravity at full power. Pulling me down like a weight. Gaining speed with in splits of seconds. Here I was a feather. Weightless. At such great heights it's not really possible to understand that the ground is getting closer and closer. Somehow you feel like an inseparable part of the scenery. You feel like you can actually touch the view. You are hanging in the sky. Your actual body hangs there. You're not just looking at it from an airplanes window. It's the difference between being a spectator and participating in the act. Like swimming in the freezing water, not just looking at them thinking how cold they might be. Like climbing a mountain, breath taken, aching muscles, not just looking at how high it is from the car as you drive by.
After the 30 seconds are up the parachute opens. You feel gravity again. "But didn't it come from the wrong direction?". You feel like you're pulled up. The wind pulls your skin and wobbles your face like dough. Now that you're going slowly down, with the courtesy of the parachute, you realize that the floating feeling was actually a fast fall. The "quiet wind" was actually so loud you couldn't hear anything. Suddenly you hear a voice from behind you (Oh, I am not alone). My guide sticks the camera in my face again: "So birthday girl, how was it?". "Amazing" I shout. "Amazing! Amazing! Amazing!" Now we are floating slowly, calmly. I look around at the view and it's, well... amazingly beautiful. I look up and see my parachute. How nice. The air is so clear. I wonder where Daniel is.
Then for some reason the guide decides to add some spice to this dreamy experience. He starts pulling the strings and going around in circles. At that point I was reminded of my motion sickness. The feeling that all the world is at my feet changed to another feeling - I am only flesh and blood. Please stop. Maybe I'll close my eyes and breath deep. It doesn't help. I still feel nausea. Finally when I got to the understanding that he isn't doing anything essential for our safe return to the ground. I squeaked to him in a little voice: "I don't like this turning around thing". "O.K" he says. Why didn't I say something earlier?
 From this point forward the scenery was beautiful but unfortunately accompanied with motion sickness. Then comes landing. He tells you to lift up your feet. You look down and see land running underneath you. Then you find yourself sitting on the butt, wondering if you're able to stand. I am standing. Nice to back on the ground. I look up and see Daniel still floating, getting ready for landing. I can see him lifting his legs just like I did a minute ago and he is back on the sacred land. I run to him like it's the first time we see each other in years. We hug and jump around. We did it! We start walking like two american pilots that just came back from their well accomplished mission. I do my best to ignore the nausea I still feel.
It's weird to be after. You experience such a huge thing and it all takes only 15 minutes. You go up you go down. It's over. Did it really happen? My nausea can confirm that.

To conclude I can say: My 30's began in the clouds, but most certainly will continue with two feet safe on the ground.

http://www.skydivenz.com/photos/htdocs/viewpics.php?date=2006-02-23

What are you planning for the 17th of February 2007. Don't know yet? Well, we strongly recommend that you book the Milford. One can never know. We certainly didn't know a year ago when we were still in Neurology Block and studying for an exam in french grammer. If we'd had known we would have booked it. It's a dam shame we didn't.
What is the Milford you ask? First book it. Then read on.

Milford Sound is the Meka of New Zealand. It's a fjord, one of many (14), in a national park called fiordland, located in the south west of the southern island. The unique geographical/climatological location of NZ has led to the creation of the dramatic fiordland region. More than 6 meters(!) of rain fall here on average a year. That means it rains almost every other day. This results in a dynamic scenery: Sharp mountains dropping in to the dark blue ocean (layered with a coat of sweet water up to 9 meters high), lush thick forests, waterfalls, and streams in abundance, rock and tree avalanches, snowy peaks and glaciers. Truly a remarkable place. The Milford track is the topping of this cake. A four days hike along the sound. This walk is considered by many the most beautiful walk in the world. The demand for it is sky-high, however since it's a delicate environment, only 40 people are allowed to walk the track a day. In order to be amongst the 40 lucky ones, you must book your place a year (!) in advance. You must also part with 300$ a head.
The Milford track is like a diamond: rare, expensive and hard to get. It's no longer a pretty rock, for it's value is that of the myth surrounding it. The myth industry around the Milford is working over time.
Everywhere you go you hear about the Milford Sound. Every visitor's center you enter, every hostel you sleep in, even the coffee shops and the restaurants will brain-wash you with an endless campaign for the Milford Sound.
And it works.
As you travel you meet many people, most of them tourists like you. In the tedious "where are you from, how long are you traveling in NZ, did you buy a privet or van?" ceremony the first question is always: "have you been to the Milford?"

Milford. Milford. Milford.
We didn't understand the fuss.

True - it is the longest sound 16 km long.
True it was visited by Maurise collecting the jade stones along it's remote beaches long before the white Europeans came to this place.
True - it is very beautiful.
But so what! In NZ everywhere you spit the scenery is breath taking. So why does all the buses packed with Japanese swarm to that desolated fjord, 170 km from the nearest gas station. Why is the Milford so special to be the crown jewel? Is it that same illusive reason that makes the Mona Liza shine brighter than all the gems in the Louvre? The Milford certainly gets the fame, but does it justify the glory? We can't answer that. We didn't book the track. Book it now and you may answer that question for us.

With no opening on the track, we decided to go for the cruise (yes the one with all the Japanese). Without any booking we took the car and went to see what's all the fuss. We had such high expectations the only thing we could have expected was a disappointment. We were disappointed. The Milford was not disappointing. It's a beautiful place. The road leading to it is magnificent. So is the Sound itself. Even the touristic cruise wasn't damping the sights. We were impressed.
Although we refuse to title a place as "the most beautiful in the world" we certainly agree that the Milford is lovely.

We camped over night near a crystal blue lake (Lake Gann), had boloneise for dinner and a cup of tea. In the morning greeted by a blue sky clear day we basked in the sun (with sand flies for company), then went for a swim. It was actually nothing more than a short dip. The icy water were cold enough to stop your breath (the lake was really breath taking). We took turns. Daniel was first. Hilly was second. Her Hendel genes couldn't pass the challenge. 

http://www.fiordland.org.nz/Explore-Fiordland/Milford-Sound/Default.asp

To be old and wise
You first have to be
Young and stupid...

Sorry fox...

Don't think. Just do it. Ignore the 43 meters drop. Imagine it is a swimming pool you are about to dive into. No, Better not think at all. Clear your mind. Breath. Forget the fact that your legs are tied together. don't think. Whatever you do - don't think. do it quickly, like removing a band-aid.
5... 4... 3... 2... 1...
Jump.
We did.

Bungy is a very good way to look at the other side of life. Your life is literally hanging by a thread. One made of latex - so if you think about it a bungy cord is simply a death-control measure. The value per money is great. You jump from a bridge, and for only 139.99$ they give you your life back. What a better present can one ask for his 26 birthday? well...
How about doing it three times?

When I realized I was going to celebrate 26 in NZ, I knew exactly how I wanted to do it. I didn't tell the parents - it's better to say "hey dad, I jumped from a bridge but I'm O.K, than trying to explain the initial intention.
Hilly never considered Bungy jumping before. Her father says "to bungy jump one must be seriously stupid" (see the statement above). But when this stupid wanted to celebrate his birthday this way, she was happy to skip the west coast and head straight to Queenstown (700km detour).
We got there late at the night of the 5Th, and camped in a tent on the lake near town. On the B-day morning we went to the A.J. Hacket Bungy shop where they'll lure you to spend all your money on the most peculiar activities.
We took the "Kamaraw bridge" jump - The original historic site (first commercial bungy in the world). 43 meters from the bridge into the Kamaraw river. Only one jumper.

For a moment in the car, Hilly said: "if you'll jump with me (Tandem) I'll do it". "Sorry Babe" I said, "Bungy is a solitaire experience. It's you and your fear. If we'll do it together , one of us will be prematurely pulled to jump by the other. Off course I would be thrilled if you jumped but you must do it alone." Hilly was insulted and withdrew from her offer.

We got to the bridge. Stretched on a canyon with the bluest river you can imagine streaming below. The view itself was inspiring. A sunny day, blue skies - what more can one ask for?
The place is a bungy museum, built into the edge of the cliff from concrete and iron, giving the sensation you are inside one of the bridge's pillars. Well, something between that and a Nike shop. We went to the counter , where they weigh you (writing the number in red on your left arm), and sign you on a form that releases them from any relation to the fact that you are jumping of their bridge. (Note that they are not legally responsible for family members traumatised by the sight, also for no extra charge you can consult with a bungy shrink[!]).
With boarding ticket in hand we went to the balcony where the spectators can view the jumpers. "Not very frightening" I said to Hilly as a scream of a jumper echoed in the canyon. "It looks terrifying" she answered, as another scream echoed from the jumper bouncing the second time.

I was ready to go. We both went to the bridge. The heart was beginning to pump faster. Fear level rising up."Is it fun or scary as hell?" Hilly asked the operator as he was tying me up. "A bit of both" he replied with a smile. Fear level increasing. "How are you feeling?" Hilly asked me. "I'm fine" I replied. The bridge jilted from the pull of a bungy cord suspending another jumper. Heart rate going up.
You wear a harness like shorts. Then sited down a towel is tightly rapped around each of the legs, which are then tied together. As this happens, you are sitting on the bridge, a meter from the edge. Next to you is a wooden ledge comfortingly called "The Meat Shredder". In a few minutes you will stand on it and jump.
It's hard to breath. Butterflies are raging in your stomach. The throat is dry. Knees are weak. No avoiding it. You are scared shitless.

"Yahla."
"I'm doing it too." Hilly shouted from behind me.
Not a comforting thought as I am being led to the ledge like a pirate's hostage about to be thrown to the sharks. "Great honey" I cry to her trying to maintain fasson. She runs quickly to the balcony to get a good view of my jump.
"Does every body get really scared standing here?" I ask the hangman beside me. "Yes" he replies like a bank clerk refusing to give you a loan. No compassion there, I might as well jump.
"Smile to the camera" he says. You smile. "Now wave to the fans on the balcony". You wave.
You look down seeing your tied legs above the chasm. "Man... It's so high!" No air in your lungs. Heart rate over 300bpm.
You are paralysed, but your mind is racing...

Don't think. Just do it. Ignore the 43 meters drop. Imagine it is a swimming pool you are about to dive into. No, Better not think at all. Clear your mind. Breath. Forget the fact that your legs are tied together. don't think. Whatever you do - don't think. do it quickly, like removing a band-aid.
5... 4... 3... 2... 1...
Bungy

You soar for a moment in the air. Time slows down to a near halt. You freeze in mid air, feeling like a bird. Then you plummet. You gain speed. The wind is whistling in you ears. You gain more speed. The air forms a tunnel around you and you zoom through it like a hawk diving for the kill. The water is getting closer in an alarming rate' but strangely enough you seem to fall endlessly.

You hear the bungy cord and feel a slight deceleration. You gradually lose speed 'till you (in my unfortunate case - almost) break the face of the water. Instantaneously the terror changes into relief, as you are pulled up for the suspension swing. You go up again. Pulling away from gravity. Stopping at the balance point between the pull of the earth and the tug of the cord. you are weightless for a split second, which seems much prolonged in subjective time. Then you plummet again. A shriek of excitement escapes your lips. You are exhilarated. The adrenalin floods your systems. When you reach the low point again, you are maxed high.

It's over. They pull you into a boat. You Can barley stand as they remove the harness and uncling you. You've jumped. Now you run as quickly as you can to tell.
It takes much longer climbing up.

Hilly waited for me at the viewing balcony. her left hand bearing the double digit number in red ink. "How was it?" she asked. "The most amazing thing I've done in my life. You're going to enjoy it," I promised her. She kissed me and went to the bridge.

Jumping from the bridge was not the scariest thing that happened to me that day. Watching your loved one about to leap into the abyss is scarier by far. From that point of view Hilly, as the second jumper, was the hero first.
After a beautifully performed jump, with a perfect plunge in the turquoise water, she ran up to me - her eyes glowing, her hair wet - and said: "It was so much fun, I wasn't scared at all".
"Great" I cried, "Then we must do the trilogy together". "What's the trilogy?" she asked. "It's a triple jump" I explained. The "Kamaraw bridge" (43m) that we just jumped, The Queenstown "Ledge" (47m) and the mother of all fears "The Nevis High Wire" (134m). "No thank you" Hilly said. "My Hendel genes stood up for the challenge. I have nothing more to prove". well, no arguing with that. I continued on my thrill journey alone.

I will skip the description of the "Ledge" experience which is pale even compared to the less high Kamaraw bridge. The Nevis High-Wire is the ultimate fear experience. If fear could be solidified into to little cube blocks you'll have to freeze them up and slip them on your spine and it still won't come near to how spine chilling that experience was.

It Starts with the weighing ceremony. Then a bus ride with 30 people scared as you are. Like cattle in the truck to the butchery You could smell the socialisation of fear. Our driver John, a native Mauri, and an A.J. Hacket committed employee made sure fear factor was maximised: describing what was destined for us while steering the 4 wheel drive bus up a steep narrow gravel road. "No worries, fox. The average at the High-Wire is only two chicken-outs per bus."

You arrive at an isolated structure made of tin at the top of the ridge. You get harness even before you get in. Already you are full of fear. 
"Yes, I decline the right to sue in case of injury or death."
You are weighed again. Then you get out of the other side and see a canyon so deep it's bottom isn't visible. In the middle floating like a spaceship a shabby looking cable-cart hanging on two wires. The people are divided into groups of six, I am on the last group. Then sent out on a smaller cable-cart that slides on the cable to the hanging jumping station.
It's a scary ride.
You are hooked onto a safety wire while inside the cart. As this wobbly transport slowly makes it's way over the ravine, the bottom is finally revealed.
134 meters deep. 
134 meters deep!! 
134 METERS DEEP!!!
That's like a 45(!) stories high building - a genuine sky scraper. Imagine you are on the roof of the Shalom Meir Tower (Migdal Shalom), but instead of admiring the view, you are planning to jump.
At this point I was ready to faint. The heart finally gave in to gravity. It stopped pumping blood up to the head letting it drain down to the feet. We arrived to the High-Wire cart. The bungy operator unhooked each one of us and welcomed us in with the familiar phrase "mind the gap". Never in my life have I minded a gap so much!

I was safely in. Safe but not sound. Electric guitars were playing in the background adding to the heavy metal atmosphere. The entire metal Cable cart was swinging to the beat. I was barley able to stand. Not only because of the swinging. The floor was made of glass. You could see all the way down the abyss. At that point I honestly thought "I can't do it" I am one of the unfortunate victims of the statistics. I am chickening out.
I sat down and tried to breath again. "Calm down" I said to my self repeating the don't think mantra.

The bungy jumpers are sorted by weight, jumping from the heaviest to the lightest. I was unfortunately the lightest jumper on the bus, and therefor the last one due to jump. 29 people jumped before I did. I waited for 60 minutes, soaking in fear, marinated in horror, hanging between sky and earth. As more and more jumpers got back from their death teasing jump returning to safe ground, the High-Wire was becoming less crowded. I was being left alone with my fear. By the time jumper 29 was called into the jumping bay I was pretty much a rack. I am next.
"Can I do it? Am I up for the challenge? Why the hell do I need to jump?" These are the thoughts that were racing in my mind as my name was called.

I got up. Shaking knees, soar throat. I went to the jumping bay sat in the preparation sofa (sited with your back to the drop) for final harnessing. Meditating like a boxer on the bench before a fight. All was ready. I was being led onto the ledge.

I looked down.
Imagine the Shalom tower balcony again.
This time you are standing at the rail, looking down at the world below. So small it is almost surreal. From behind you hear those terrifying words:

5... 4... 3... 2... 1..

I didn't hear the "bungy".
I was already in the air.

It was the scariest thing I have done in my life
And the happiest birthday I ever had.
 

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