Flying Like A Turkey

By Brad Malyon on October 11, 2012 in Other

Turkey. High season. Beautiful people. White gold beaches. Sparkling water. Last month, I was lucky enough to experience the southwest jewelled belt of the aptly named Turquoise Coast for what was loosely termed a ‘work trip’. While this strip of Turkey is only a small slice of a fascinating country, I met many friendly Turks, had numerous brushes with ancient history and ate enough baklava to get my Turkish delight. However, there was one standout experience of the trip in particular that I would like to share with you.

We were on a charter from the sleepy town of Gocek to the bustling port of Bodrum. Dotting the sky along the coast was a constant stream of neon specks, riding the breeze and decorating the bluebird sky. Paragliders. Did someone just suggest that we too should take the leap? Was that me who just agreed to this madness?

Before I had the chance to gather my thoughts, I found myself white-knuckled and queasy, thundering two kilometres up a mountain to my airborne destiny. I’m not a great backseat passenger on the best of roads at the best of times and the journey to our aerial launch pad was not for the faint of heart. With sheer cliff drop-offs fringing the road and a hot doggin’ Turkish cowboy behind the wheel, I was certainly glad to reach our destination, step off the bus and put my feet on terra firma.

This was a fleeting joy, however, as I was quickly ushered towards the cliff’s edge where my fellow daredevils were jumping one by one, thrown into the arms of the wind like dandelion seeds in a spring breeze. The realisation was quickly dawning on me that flinging myself off a two thousand metre high mountain top with only a thin fluoro sheet of fabric to save my bacon was probably not the safest or wisest of holiday recreations. Do the Turks adhere to OH&S regulations? Does my travel insurance cover snapped limbs as a result of high altitude falls? I began my reverse shuffle towards the safety net of the bus before a flashback to the perilous mission we’d just been through to get to the top ran though my head. For me, there was only one way down.

I guess, in a way, I was lucky for the heart-in-throat journey up the mountain, as without it I may have gone for the soft option and missed out on seeing the Turquoise Coast from a bird’s eye perspective. Thankfully I managed to steady the hands enough to capture some images during my time in the sky for you. If you are interested in experiencing the real deal for yourself though, my advice is to make sure you enforce a strict ‘no smoking’ policy when negotiating your jump. When you’re shitting yourself as you hover helplessly in a veil of nothingness, the last thing you want to hear is the bloke strapped to your back, the bloke with your life in his hands, lighting up a ciggy. Trust me.