First solo flight!

When I was about 8 or 9 I tied a whole bunch of plastic bags to myself and ran down the hill next to my house over and over in a vain attempt to achieve liftoff. Devastatingly, the only thing that left the ground was the evaporating cloud of my deflated flying dreams. I returned home dejected and depressed with no hope of ever taking to the skies and flying like the birds.

But the dream never truly died, it was only slumbering. Over the years I took my dreams aloft once in a glider, through radio control with model planes, with powered trainer aircraft in the RAF and once plummeting from 8000 feet under a scrap of cloth in Australia. Today, after thirteen years of looking to the sky and dreaming of gliders and helicopters, the as-til-now dormant butterfly of flight erupted from its cocoon and I am proud to say I truly flew for the first time!

Pulling hard against an immense drag, then a sudden release as the wing takes flight and your instructor is screaming at you, you stupid bastard RUN RUN. Your legs windmill almost involuntarily and you feel first one snatch of lightness, then a second, then the ground falls sharply away leaving your legs wheeling free in the air as you speed into a vast nothingness.

Paragliding is as close as it is possible to come to the ideal of unaided flight. No noise, no cockpit, nobody else and no distractions. Just the gentle swooshing of your wing overhead and the wind in your face as you soar effortlessly over toy houses and bonsai trees. From this lofty lookout you can survey with godlike distance and impunity arching mountains and plains that stretch beyond your line of sight, rivers run like threads and plastic buildings with scootling lego cars. The distractions of life drop far off the radar and are replaced by a tranquil sense of connection with nature and... emptiness.

We never think of the air as something thick but with a wing attached it feels like porridge, almost something you can walk on. Ridges plunge beneath you and as you turn towards the mountain, the sun full in your face, you see a crescent shadow speeding with you up the craggy face. Is that me? A tenuous connection at best between you and the ground, you scoff at this pathetic attempt by nature to remind you of your mortality and continue to soar free and ecstatic as a bird.

Then as you approach the landing area reality hits. Scrub and tree start to speed towards you faster and faster, full speed towards the landing site and BRAKE BRAKE BRAKE as the ground rushes up under your feet then a harsh crunch of your arse on the grass and your wing gracefully flows forward to collapse in a slow motion concertina in front of you.

I have nothing but good things to say for AndesXtremo paragliding school here in Cochabamba. With a real focus on safety, I spent two days on the ground just learning to inflate the wing and another day taking two tandem flights to learn the feel and mechanics in total security. For my first flight alone, they talked me down by radio every step of the way. I have six more flights with them and I can absolutely recommend them 100% if you are looking for a solo paragliding experience.