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“FLYING SOLO”
There are some moments in your life that will walk beside you forever.
For me, it was a moment on a hill.
I was afraid.
Because the ground looked much further from the top than the top of the hill looked from the bottom.
I was extremely excited.
Because I was going to fly.
I was certainly apprehensive.
Because my knees are 43 years old.
I was breathing hard.
Because my lungs too are 43 years old and, like a fool, I had just climbed a hill with a great big sack on my back.
But I was going to fly.
I damned well was…
Going to fly.
Going to…
Going to…
Fly.
Fly, damn you, fly.
Struggle with unfamiliar straps and cords that bite into virgin flesh.
Test unused muscle against the surprising force of a gentle breeze.
Two involuntary steps back.
Am I going to fall over the other side?
And then…
You know… I’m flying.
Hey, it’s easy.
Anyone can do it.
Bank with the birds (except you’ve got a walkie strapped to your chest).
Bank again.
And then all too soon…
The ground is rushing up too greet me like a possessive parent.
I land.
Quite nicely.
Yess! Shit-on-a-butterfly-wing… I did it!!
All that time dreaming about flying with Biggles in a Sopwith Camel.
All that time reading Commando comics, thought-flying Spitfires and messing with finger-flicked, control-line model planes.
All that time...
What a fucking waste!
Dreaming, you stupid fuck, when you could have been…
Flying.
Thank you Avi, Anita, TJ, Sam-sung, Dhawal and, of course, the inaptly named Bhola.
Post script: You know what I love about paragliding?
Is the simplicity.
And the purity of it.
A man walks a hill with a sack on his back.
Gets to the top.
Looks around.
Checks the wind.
Lays his lovely wing out on the ground.
And flies.
With a big grin plastered forever on his face.
Thank you guys.
Really.
I mean it.
This was important.
- Adi Pocha
Ad Film-maker
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