Paragliding

What an exciting morning. I joined Ed -- a spur of the moment decision -- to go paragliding today. We took a taxi to a place called Naggar, which was very pretty: winding lanes through ripe apple orchards dripping with golden fruit. On our arrival we had to hike for 25 minutes up a narrow path, the breadth of my two feet, which fell on one side deep into the Kullu valley. It was beautiful: the sun was shining and the sky blue. But I embarrassed myself by being very unfit and having to huff and puff loudly all the way up.

At the top, Ed went first. I watched with some trepidation (having signed the waiver, which was under Indian law, and excluded all liabilities including those for injury and death arising from negligence; I also mulled over the fact that dangerous sports were excluded from my insurance policy... yikes).

Finally, about an hour later, after I'd been sunning myself alone on the top of this cliff, the chap returned up for my go. I was hooked into the gear and then told to run towards the edge (the man was strapped to my back and he would be handling the controls). On cue, I made a mad dash: the man was shouting , "Run, run!", but it was impossible as the wind had picked up the 'chute and I was treading air, not moving. By this point I was shaking and the adrenalin had started. And before I knew it, I was in the air, floating, the Kullu Valley stretching before me, a patchwork of glorious green, the river winding through it. We flew, nothing between me and the ground, which was very far below me. As we slowly feathered down towards the ground, he asked if I wanted to do some "stunts" and before I know it we were spiralling round and round (my nose was running hard) until I was dizzy by the centrifugal force. Then he manoeuvred the paraglider so it lifted up into the air and then dropped, my stomach jumping into my mouth. It felt as if I was on a rollercoaster, except that I was hundreds of metres in the air and nothing between me and the hard earth. As we lowered I was slightly concerned by the number of electricity pylons - we seemed to be descending in a whole nest of them (it turned out the wires haven't been connected yet, so my fears were unfounded).

Finally we touched down. And I fell over. Ed has some of this on film, which I shall hopefully share in future. We had to carry the 'chutes to the road, which was a bit heavy. There is marijuana growing everywhere here, it lines the roads. And people do seem to spend a lot of time skinning up. This is lost on me (my poison being alcohol), and I feel terribly uncool refusing joints. But hey ho. Such is life.

Then it was a local bus back to Manali. Like everything else here, it was colourful, a bright turquoise, with interesting signs welcoming us to the "Bharti Coach". It was rammed, people lining the aisle, smiling and joking. The people here in Himachal Pradesh are very attractive: lean and lithe, with well-formed features, high cheekbones, and feline in their languidity.

Anyway, Ed wants to go paragliding again tomorrow, so I am going to see if I can get some insurance so I can go again too.

Speak soon