In April 2019 I thought it would be great getting a group from work together to do a skydive. I had a gift voucher from 2011 and just hadn’t found a group of determined individuals to go with (or maybe I was actually procrastinating a little). So I popped the email out and got nine colleagues, past and present to join me, little did any of know then though that it would take until September 2020 to actually jump…
The faint hearted may call us crazy jumping from 10,000 ft, and maybe I would have agreed a little. But now, post-jump I think you are actually maybe crazy for not wanting to give it a go!
Why it took so long? You know, that 17 months it took from booking to actually jumping. Well that’s firstly the struggles of getting 10 people to agree on a date to book, with everyone’s weekend plans. Then add the typical British weather, slap on a vital plane part stuck in customs for weeks and then top it off with a sprinkling of a viral pandemic. It’s mad thinking it actually went ahead, for seven of us at least, still amongst the Covid-19 madness.
We made it on site once before, in November 2019. We jumped into jumpsuits and slipped on our harnesses in preparation. The first group boarded the plane, with us in second position. The plane set off, down the run way, then the fog dropped. We waited until 1:30pm, saw no relief and went home disappointed.
Then on Saturday 5th September, a coffee, was a welcome sight as seven of us nervously arrived. The nerves then grew as we got closer to flying, but were then suddenly dashed as wind speeds increased and the plane was grounded, over and over, again and again. We waited it out like before and at around 3:45 pm our names were called across the tannoy. ‘It’s actually happening!’ (though we got this far last time). We got fastened up in harnesses, took one last anxious looking masked covered face photo (see below) and climbed into the plane.
Sky diving is probably the closest you’ll get to another human who’s not from your household during lockdown. It is awfully cosy on those planes.
The door opened and closed throughout the climb, as per the new Covid rules. Then we hit 10,000 ft. The door opened for the final time and the first jumper disappeared outside. Four of my friends later, it was my turn. We shuffled to the door, legs back, fingers in our harnesses, head back and moments later we were speeding down towards the ground.
30 seconds of freefall seemed only like a moment. Then the parachute opened and the full view could be fully absorbed. It was the most mind-blowingly beautiful sight but also topped with the extreme thrill as my instructor asked if I wanted calm or exhilarating (a silly question for me). We spun in circles, dipped and dropped, before we finally drifted to the ground.
It left us all speechless, but elated beyond words. It wasn’t long after we were saying what we should do next…
Munchkin, I’ll take you one day, if you like. Just don’t tell Nanny.
Thanks for reading,