Touching the sky

Many times while climbing you feel like you are touching the sky. Whether it is above you or the wind is wooshing under your butt and you look down or behind you and see a big, deadly, valley


or the deep green water


you are definitely close to something much bigger and more important than yourself. Add to that the adrenalin, the sudden pang of your [more] conscious brain that sometimes tells yells at you: "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?! Trying to get the both of us killed?!", the never-ending competition with yourself, and the realization that if you really think about it, there's only a small thread and a piece of iron that keeps you from dying, and I knew why people are addicted to climbing. And until this honeymoon/grad trip I thought there was nothing that could equal it for me.

Until the dodo bird insisted that we do paragliding. Tandem of course, which meant that there was another instructor flying with us. There were four of us and two instructors only, which meant that Marian and I went first and the instructors returned for dodo and san. I got the more pro (ha!) instructor, which was also taller and had bigger forearms (queue fetish). He was 43, didn't look a day over 30 and told me that many climbers once they start paragliding climb less and less.

And I could see why. The ultimate silence, the exquisite liberty and control, the wind flapping, the fantastic views.










And the small piece of cloth between you and eternity, the adrenalin - I screamed my lungs out when we did a 360 - and the ultimate thrill when you drive (he let me drive, woo hoo!!), the true MAGIC of it all, are all the ingredients one needs to be addicted to it. If you ever have the chance, go try it! Of the entire Europe trip, these were the best money spent (other than on the cherries)