Fly. I always dreamt of flying. Indeed, I always enjoyed jumping. Throwing myself.
As a child, I often tried to jump out of windows.
Sure enough, they put up metal barricades.
Then, I grew slightly older. As a preteen, my obsession with flying intensified. My new addiction: park-rides and roller coasters
During the ' Fêtes de Genève', the festival organizers often brought in some type of swingy technology. I remember feeling like I was falling in to the lake every time the machine twisted.
But, I was never afraid. Just, curious. Progressively, my 'rides' grew bigger. Soon enough, I visited Euro Disney and Europa Park. Once again, I was not afraid.
Finally, the opportunity arrived. For days, I chanted , 'Christine is finally going to fly' (yes, I sometimes speak about myself in the third person). Saviors in the form of an Italian skydiving company mercifully decided to pay Lebanon a visit.
Ice-cream. Movies. Elvis Presley. Diet-Coke. White-wine.Chips. Johnny Depp. Jonny-Walker. These are all things I love. Yet, they all fall short in the face of flying.
Finally, my 'show-stopping' moment arrived. My skydive was scheduled for Friday.
I arrive at the military base (after waking up at 6 am ), only to be told that the session was cancelled.
Apparently, the merciful Italian company are notorious for cancelling or postponing rides (maybe I should have done my research).
Nonetheless, I took the cancellation with a grain of salt, and rescheduled the dive.
Here I am again. This time, I am geared in my sky-diving clothes. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous before my jump. Indeed,I was pacing around the military base in circles.
Finally, my turn arrived (after a 2 hour wait). I hopped on to the mini-air craft along with my brother and strangers.
As I was preparing to jump out of the plane, I expected to feel some form of fear. Instead, I was laughing and joking around (and ok maybe flirting a bit with my Italian skydiving guide).
Then, it was time. I was the second to jump. With the help of a little tug (by my instructor), I fell in the air.
Then, the instructor provided a signal to put my hands up in an upright position. Sure enough, they were not in the correct position. Accordingly, he re-positioned my arms .
Truthfully, it was a beautiful experience (don't get me wrong). A smile inducing, peaceful experience. However, I always imagined the song 'I believe I can fly' would play in my mind.
Conversely, it was far too loud to think of music. I stayed waiting for the scary part, the climax.
But, it never arrived. Instead, it felt like a slow roller coaster.