So I’m sitting up at the Nevis bungy station waiting to jump 134 metres from a strange pod worryingly dangling off of a sort of rope thing and about to do what just about everyone has described as ‘the most terrifying (and exhilerating) experience of your life’. Third time lucky – we got up here 3 days ago only to find out it had been cancelled due to wind (a terrible omen?). We then got up here yesterday all harnessed in and briefed up only to find out the gondola taking us out had broken down (terrible omen number 2?). We then arrived this morning and missed our bus (terrible omen number 3 or just me being standardly disorganised? But why am I doing this?) Only in New Zealand would I put myself through such a strange torture (slight phobia of heights – but hey it’s not like it’s the third highest in the world right? OH DEAR.) HERE GOES.