Thursday, December 22, 2016

iFly Perth is here and it is even more awesome than it looks

This is a C2 post - gifted experience
For full details please see my disclosure policy

I got to head to the launch of indoor skydiving facility iFly Perth this month and I spent most of the evening with my jaw hanging wide open in disbelief. I am now in the background of hundreds of photos looking like I'm catching flies. Attractive!

I was so awed by the set up and the performances of the skydivers (and they really were performances!) that I squealed and clapped like a kid at her very first circus. I couldn't quite believe what I was seeing.

Amazingly choreographed routines. Guys zooming around. Spinning up, up, up almost 15 metres off the ground in a vertical wind tunnel. Check these guys out:

I was going to call it ballet in the air, but the speed these professionals were flying it looked more akin to those 'wheel of death' motorcycle cages sans the motorbikes. In. Sane.

I came away from the party feeling pumped, and wondered if just watching others do it was so good, how extreme would it feel after I had a go?

So yesterday MapGuy and I headed to the brand spankin' new iFly Perth to find out. I can tell you, our first taste of indoor skydiving did not disappoint!

We suited up (almost attractive as my slack jawed stare on opening night) and had our introductory lesson from our instructor Danny, a highly experienced skydiver with around 520 jumps to his name. We learned how to hold our bodies, the hand signals used (you can't hear anything in the tunnel), and all the safety details.

Then it was go time.

Do you think orange is my colour?
There were six of us in our group ranging in age from three to mid fifties. Yeah, that wasn't a typo. One of my fellow students was a toddler. Because the speed of the wind in the tunnel is controlled in real time by another skydiver, it doesn't matter how big or small you are. Plus the instructor in with you has a level of fitness up there with elite athletes so they can help everyone from littlies to big burly blokes, all while being blasted with air.

It was brilliant.

Wendy, I can fly!
The feeling was so completely foreign that I had to work hard to concentrate on following Danny's hand signals, and I had no idea if I was putting my legs in the right spot or not because I couldn't really feel where they were, but his thumbs up said I was doing OK.

We each got two flights, the second of which was better because that unknown element was gone and I felt I could follow instructions better.

I can see my house from up here!
The wind blasting up my nostrils was a bloody weird sensation. They could legitimately add "complimentary sinus clean" to the list of services they offer.

There really was no down side to the experience. It's short, and there are options to go for longer, but the general time is the same as what you'd get with a freefall from 14,000 feet. Then you just pop out, let someone else have a turn and you're up again. No flight, no ear pressure worries, no parachute worries!

MapGuy was a natural
It's so controlled and it on top of actually being very safe, it felt safe - I wasn't scared at all, and at no time did I feel like I was about to drop out of the sky.

I don't know yet if it has made me want to jump out of a real plane, but I definitely want to go back and have another go. Even Tricky says he wants to have a go, so I've promised he can go for his birthday next year.

This is iFLY High and is $10 extra 
If you're stuck for a present, a voucher for experiences is always great, but indoor skydiving is just next level awesome.

iFly has locations in Sydney, the Gold Coast and Perth, and prices start at a very reasonable $89.

Saturday, December 10, 2016

Shingle Bells

This absolute asshole of a year is almost over and I was just beginning to relax. I could see the proverbial finish line, and I was ready to slow motion run through the tape, crowd cheering and ticker-tape raining down. Chariots of Fire or Eye of the Tiger or some other inspirational bullshit music playing.

I had faith my birthday and Christmas would be the pinnacle of the year. A last ditch attempt from the universe to apologise for fucking up 2016 for almost everyone I know.

Instead, I find myself under a metric fuck tonne of stress as I go back and forth with school about a student making death threats to my Tricks and what seems like half the year one students, and the school now saying that the kids just need to stop reacting to the threats. Yeah, because a six year old should totally be able to remain stoney faced and stoic when told they are going to die. These kids still believe in Santa Claus and when their friends tell them they can do triple backflips while riding a motorbike. Grrrrr!

My nights are filled with reaching out to other parents, furiously researching who I can contact about this ongoing bullying (as the school is implementing safety plans... then not fucking following them) and worrying constantly about the psychological effects of sustained death threats to an entire bloody year group by one student.

Earlier in the year it would have been my mind that gave up and I'd be rocking in a corner.

This time though, with my mind so much stronger, this whole fiasco is manifesting physically. It is, quite literally, getting on my nerves instead.


Fucking Shingles. But you guessed that from my hilarious and oh-so-cliche post title, didn't you?

There will be no ticker-tape and slow motion run. There will be no inspirational music. Just "All the Shingle Ladies" on repeat for the next two-four weeks. 

I'm in a lot of pain and feeling pretty damn sorry for myself, but luckily I was at the doctor getting anti viral meds within hours of the rash appearing, so fingers crossed it isn't as bad as it could be.

I've been given Oxycodone because "this will be really bad over the next few days". So along with the pity party for one, I'm also a bit delirious and struggling to keep my eyes open. Perhaps I should employ MG as proof reader of my official emails before I hit send, lest I end up with expletive laden correspondence. 

So to 2016 I say, on behalf of so many, fuck you. Don't let the door hit you on the way out... and once you're through the door, fall down the stairs. Break your leg. Get concussed. Go to hospital and while you're there get MRSA. Because that is how highly I think of you. 


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