Ok so let's back-track about 16 hours. There I was, legs hanging off the edge of a plane with nothing but a man strapped to my back with a parachute... "What the f**k am I doing?!?!?!" Here's the little ginger kid (who is so scared of heights he couldn't even go up the London Eye) about to throw himself out of a bloody tin can with an engine and plummet 15,000ft towards the most beautiful landscape I've ever seen. I figure, "If I'm gonna die, at least there's a nice view." But before I could finish that sentence, I was frontflipping and freefalling at (apparently) 240kmph which I'm told is terminal velocity. After slowing down to 200kmph I freefall for about 60 seconds until my parachute is let up and everything goes silent as we peacefully drift back down to save ground and I land flat on my arse! By this time all I'm thinking is... "This is the best thing I've ever done in my life!" What the hell is wrong with me? I've been pretty shocked and disturbed at myself as I cannot stop thinking about it, and it was only yesterday evening! (Friday 14th) Well anyhoo, apparently it was the best time to do it as it was an amazing day, and the sun was beginning to set over the mountains. I was also crazy enough to pay for the risk of another man to jump out of the plane with me, with a camera on his head and video camera on his shoulder. Unfortunately I haven't got my pictures or DVD yet, but I'll hopefully pick them up later today and I'll put them on the site as soon as I get them! I'm just about to go book another jump for tomorrow, as it's not a great day today. Turns out high speed flying and crazy death jumps are the way for me and God knows why! I think maybe deep down I just wanna be Superman or something... Speak to ya'll later. Ginge x