Two days ago, the beauty of Stanwell Park and Illawarra reared its head and gave us a spectacular hike on the Wodi Wodi track. We climbed halfway up the mountain, until the path became too steep for those of us not in shape. The scenery here is like nowhere else on Earth.
After our hike, the aunties and I drove into Sydney for a day in town. I got a second go in my uncle David's Ferrari, which of course revved my engine way up.
In the city, after a family fashion show at the house on Darling Point, we were dropped off at the infamous Opera House, and walked the Writer's Walk around the harbor, stopping only for a nice cappuccino and banana bread, before heading out to the most adorable little Italian restaurant. I swear, I've gained two kilos since I've been in Australia.
The next day, back at the beach house in Stanwell Park, the aunties and I decided to check out the hottie hang-gliders up at the top of the cliff. Little did I know that, two hours later, I would be jumping off the cliff myself. Hang-gliding is something I have always wanted to try. For years and years, since I was little, I've had dreams of flying. You know those dreams? Where you suddenly lift into the air and feel like you could do anything? Well, hang-gliding is pretty much like that.
Was I nervous? Maybe for about a second, before I started putting on all the gear. But my tandem guide, Curt, was an excellent instructor; and, according to Curt, I was a good student pilot. Incredibly, when we were up in the air, far above any birds, he let go of the controls and let me steer myself around the clouds. As I looked below, I searched for sharks or dolphins in the water, but saw only blue-green waves and whitecaps.
The contraption is easy to handle, surprisingly. It obeys your little shifts in weight and immediately feels apart of you when you're dangling up there like nobody's business. It was peaceful, and the wind was perfect. Landing even feels like you've been doing it for years. Imagine doing this every day of your life and making a living out of it. Curt agreed, he could think of nothing else he'd rather do. What a lucky dude.
Seriously, one of the best experiences in my life. Do it. You'll never regret it.
But as if that weren't enough excitement... when I returned to the beach house, my inbox had a new message: another poem accepted for publication. Look out for the 2010 Spring Issue of The New Plains Review, folks. I'm in the Special Selection for poetry. Pinch me! No, wait. Don't. I don't want to wake up from this.
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