In New Zealand’s sky

The bright light of the sun fills the bluest of skies. We are dressed in funny blue suits, leather aviator caps and plastic goggles. I take off my shoes to go bare footed. On a tiny pink plane we fly up to 15000 feet. In a narrow cigar of the plane we are all seated on the benches in the same direction – backwards. One next to another, instructor, diver, instructor, diver. The majestic panorama of lake Taupo, the small town and the mushroom-like hills is laid out before our eyes. My instructor is a young athletic Aboriginal Australian, his helmet is covered with Aboriginal patterns. We discuss Dreamtime before suddenly it is our turn. For a few seconds I am sitting in the open exit of the plan, my feet dangling in the abyss, my eyes widening from excitement. With a swift movement Mali holds me close and all of a sudden I am falling down. Wow! At first we fall backwards, back to the ground, then we get in the horisontal position and – oh my God! – for 60 seconds I am falling down like a stone and can’t stop laughing. Then Mali opens the parachute, the euphoria of weightlessness turns into another dynamic, slow relaxed gliding in the air, no longer ignoring the gravitation. At this moment I feel a strong disappointment, it is not enough, I desperately want more of the incredible free fall. Although my ears are totally blocked and the pressure on them will last for an hour more. We slowly descend, making circles above the lake, observing other divers. In the last moment I hold my feet parallel to the ground and carefully we slide on the grass. I shake Mali’s hand, he asks me if I want to jump again. The answer is obvious.

Lake Taupo above which the skydive took place:

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