Trips like these you get to learn your limits. When I first booked this trip, I didn’t really think I had too many limits (insert Mean Girls quote). In fact, my only solid two rules were:
- To come back and
- To come back alone
I thought it would be better/more responsible/smarter if I didn’t elope with some New Zealand boy I just met and bring him back to live with me in Boston. Or worse...bring a BABY back. (I know people who have had both these happen and are very happy, but I decided each comes with its own set of complications).
Hence the rules. But, that leaves a lot of room for testing out some other things, like bungy jumping.
In fact, numerous people told me that New Zealand is THE place to bungy jump.
I kept asking myself WHY because surely you can bungy jump just about anywhere else in the world with the proper setup. By asking some convincing Kiwis, I eventually got some answers.
In 1987 a crazy New Zealander had the ridiculous idea of tying a rope to his feet and jumping head first off the Eiffel Tower. This guy, AJ Hackett, not only had zero sense of self-preservation but also was a decent marketer and popularized the activity.
In fact, he opened the first commercial bungy jumping site only one year later in Queenstown, New Zealand. From there, the activity boomed and people started setting up bungy sites all over the world.
Some of these sites are safer than others. For instance, I wouldn’t want to bungy jump in Thailand. When I was there, I saw some guys on a beach “parasailing.” This entailed them questionably harnessing you in, throwing a Pikachu parachute up in the air from the beach, and then the lightest guy of the bunch would actually HANG FROM a cord on the parachute (50~ feet above the water!) as the boat pulled you around. Eventually, that light guy, who was basically IN your parachute, would pull some string that would bring you back down to the beach.
So HEEEEEELL NO would I bungy jump there.
However, I like to think that New Zealand bungy sites are the frontrunners in experience and safety requirements. Logically, that makes it the best place to try it.
As a result, the first bungy site I went to was in Taupo, New Zealand.
The scenery was absolutely magnificent. The bungy was 47 meters (about 154 feet) above a river that passed through a canyon. In fact, if you wanted to, they could adjust the elasticity and length of the rope to allow you to touch the water at the base of your jump.
I saw one person jump and was in awe of him having the guts to hurl himself over the edge. So, I went into the office and asked how much it cost.
$169 (New Zealand dollars). Not THAT bad for a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Hmm. In that case, I grabbed a coffee and then watched some more people. I saw another person jump. And scream...the entire time she bounced through the air.
That one made my stomach drop.
I went back into the office and asked if they had open spots throughout the day, and “lucky me” they did.
After two (plus…) hours of internal dialogue (and hiking, too), I decided I’d rain check the bungy that day. It looked really high. And my stomach felt queasy just by watching that last person. Maybe later...
When “later” finally arrived at 9 am on Wednesday, I had substantially more internal dialogue to consider and digest.
“What if the cord breaks? What if the cord is too long? This is so not right. I absolutely hate the sensation of my stomach dropping and falling. And to do that HEAD FIRST! That cannot be natural. This goes against all human instincts. How do you get back up? What about the whiplash? Is there even whiplash?”
These thoughts and many others circled around in my head as I was filling out the e-form to bungee jump off the Auckland bridge, which would be my last chance to do New Zealand’s adrenaline-rush activity before leaving the country.
I hovered over the checkout button for a solid 20 minutes. I ordered another muffin at the cafe that I was sitting at (stress eating...). Then I started texting multiple people, “Should I do it, would YOU do it?”
This would be so much easier if the staff were legally able to push me off the edge. WAIT! Another person!
Dating apps have always been a quick and easy way to find someone. So I posted on Bumble, “Solely looking for someone to push me off a bridge (bungy jumping) today. Pay your own way.” (Eventually, a few responded; however, not until multiple hours later when it was too late to go).
As I was gearing myself up to click “Check Out” and commit to doing it sans Bumble Boy/moral support, I started to get lightheaded and lose feeling in the tips of my fingers.
THIS WAS IT. I HIT THE LIMIT!!!
I quickly drank some water and closed the browser. I poured even more water into my glass and moved my chair back just in case.
If I were going to faint from just BUYING the bungy jump, I probably wouldn’t be much better off doing it. In fact, it would rather suck to pay $160 and then just faint through the entire thing. Definitely a story, but not one that I was looking to have.
I accepted my reluctance to hurl myself head-first off a bridge, and instead signed up to climb the same bridge. That was my compromise.
While this may be a bucket list item, it’s not quite my bucket list item. At least not right now. I’ll find some other items to cross off first.
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