Posted on Friday, 31 October 2014

There was no danger of me signing up for the bungee jump down the 160m Bhote Koshi ravine.

But I was glad my new Canadian friend did. I enjoyed the build-up tremendously.

The Canadian put his name down for The Last Resort's flagship attraction after an excess of Nepalese beer the previous evening.

Now, less than 12 hours later, he was drinking in the resort bar again: the poison that got him into this could surely help numb the fear of what was coming.

We discussed detached retinas for a while, before he told me to stop.

It was a hot, beautiful Nepalese day; the surrounding jungle was a vibrant green and alive with butterflies and flowers. But this beauty was lost on my friend.

I felt like I was watching a man who had rubber stamped his own funeral. His last meal, a delicious-looking burger with fries, was virtually untouched as he drained his final Gorka and announced that he was moving on to vodka.

“My shout,” I said, feeling guilty for enjoying his misery so much.

As I watched the foolhardy Canadian sink two shots of straight Smirnoff, I tried to work out what circumstances would compel me to do a bungee jump. If humanity's continued existence relied on it? Maybe one million pounds directly into my bank via 'faster payments'? Not sure, possibly – if I was allowed tranquilizers as part of the deal.

It seemed to me that bungee jumping was like experiencing the gallows, but with one crucial difference: you must pay for it.

I wallowed in my freedom, sipped leisurely on a vodka of my own, and made some space on my camera so I could record my friend's pale face, his final words, and his long walk across the wobbly green bridge that traversed the heart-stoppingly high ravine.

He didn't have much to say.

And then it was time. As if to remind my pal of the earthly delights he was about to say goodbye to, an extremely attractive Nepalese lady arrived, called out his name, and told him to go to the bridge.

As much as I wanted to tease him, I decided to show some respect: he was doing something that I would never do – that is, jump off a bridge for no reason. Besides, he was so scared that he couldn't even hear what I was saying.

And so I wished him luck as I assumed my position on a special viewing platform by the ravine's edge – since non-jumpers were not allowed on the bridge at this crucial time.

Namely, Jump Time.

I cannot recall seeing a paler face, as the Canadian made his way unsteadily across the bridge. To be honest, I was a little concerned: I wasn't sure if my zoom lens would be able to capture the look of terror on his face.

Luckily, it could, and it did.

He was strapped in to the harness half-way along the bridge and an adrenaline junkie assistant – no doubt having plummeted to the Earth without good cause a few times himself – whispered something in his ear. The Canadian nodded, fear contorting his ghostly face.

And then he was gone, dropping down into the ravine as fast as the planet could pull him. Peering down through the lovely safety bars, I was astonished at how quickly he reached the bottom, and then at how quickly he came back up again, yo-yo-ing on that oversize elastic band until it lost all its latent energy. And then he was a tiny speck, swinging back and forth across the low Bhote Koshi river, feet dangling above the jagged grey rocks: It was all over.

Kind of.

In my opinion, having to hike all the way back up to the resort in order to get your Reward Beer only adds insult to injury.

But to some people, this is called 'fun'.

Do I Need Bungee jump Insurance?

Thinking of going bungee jumping? Here at starttravel.co.uk we cover our customers for a range of activities, including bungee jumping. Under our policy, you can enjoy three bungee jumps during your trip!

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