This weekend saw me, Ratty, Ed and Faze do a roadtrip to Wales. Trav came in his own car and we met up with Skew and Anton when we got to where we we’re going.
The trip took about two and a half hours. About an hour or so of that was spent with me having cold sweats in the back seat and saying to Faze IS THIS A GOOD IDEA?
She assured me it would be FINE (she didn’t know this) and that I wouldn’t DIE (also, where was the proof?).
All this stress-sweat, butterflies, vomit-fear and whimpering was because we were headed to the longest zipwire in Europe, to chuck ourselves down it.
It was to raise money for our trip to Dallas BUT WHAT IS THE POINT IF WE ALL DIE???
So I might be slightly scared of heights. I was due to drive us but opted out for fear that I would crash the car en route. I stood there, suited up, shaking. The guys around me all giggling about how much fun it was going to be and how daft it was that I was worried. But something about being strapped on to a wire, face down, and then being released… even thinking about it now I want to vomit.
You do a test-run first on a shorter wire. That was the worst by far. Then we took a truck up to the top of the quarry where the cloud sat on top of the hill and you couldn’t make out where our car was because we were so far up.
My mum, dad and sister came to watch me. I wanted a photo with them but genuinely was worried it would be the last photo I would have, so I opted out.
Me and Ed went first. Tied in, we looked to eachother, he said “Its gonna be alright Bab”. I declared my love for everyone. They said “safety off” and I stopped breathing. “3,2,1 go”.
I hit 92mph on that fucking thing. I’m not even apologising for swearing. My mum heard me from the bottom. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m so glad it’s over.
WE DIDN’T EVEN DIE.