On occasion I am known to do daft things.
I can normally justify these actions with some meaningful excuse. Although I will confess as I found myself hurtling out to sea on Friday afternoon with two nine-year olds by my side on a yellow sausage-shaped inflatable, even I was struggling to justify my stupidity.
But I dug deep and found one….
Which made me feel better about the fact that I was going to take my twin nine-year olds, and myself and tie ourselves to the back of a boat and sail up into the sky with only a bit of cotton behind us.
As I hung on for dear life to the inflatable that was taking us to the next boat which was going to allow us to fly, I managed to tell myself the story that I was teaching the kids strength and courage. That I was showing them to face their fears despite their knackered ears and diabetes.
By the time we arrived at the speed boat I was almost crowning myself as an evangelical supermum, throwing myself in the path of danger just to teach the kids courage and daring.
Then I saw the parachute fly up from the boat, and noted that it was being secured with a couple of flimsy ropes and I promptly pooped myself and just thought…. “What a fecking eejit am I.”
My son clocked my intense, vomit inducing fear, and slid his hand in mine.
“You said it would be ok” he whimpered with a similar look of terror flooding his features.
I let the wind change my face from petrified to perky.
“Oh it is going to be amazing,” I trilled as heart sank to my boots.
He didn’t look convinced…
Challenge one was moving from the inflatable sausage onto the boat. I aimed to try and climb aboard in a dignified fashion, instead I stumbled, yelped out loud, and had to be hoisted by my life jacket by a tall young man with incredible deadlocks into the boat where I landed on my belly, in a starfish fashion.
Man with incredible dreadlocks struggled to hide his snorts of laughter at the sight of my sunburnt arse blocking the sun on the floor of his boat.
The kids hopped in like they were sailors in a former life….
I was rather surprised to note that we wouldn’t be sitting on an actual seat for our flight in the sky, but instead we were just strapped into a harness and clipped to the parachute with clips that Owen could not resist twanging at every opportunity.
As we sat on the floor, parachute flapping behind us, Owen clicking at the only thing protecting us from falling into the sea to become shark fodder, I actually cried internally, and possibly wet my pants a little.
Then with a cheer from the dreaded one, and a small hand clenched in each of mine, we were suddenly up, up, and away. Soaring out behind the boat at a thousand miles an hour, high in the sky, my two children and I, flying above the ocean, dancing near the sun.
It was incredible, silent, except for the ongoing commentary of my son, peaceful to the point of tranquility (except for the ongoing commentary of my son), and my terror was immediately replaced by a feeling of serenity.
“Mum, this is amazing” cried Molly, “I feel like I can do anything if I can do this!”
Score one for mum! Turns out I can teach the kids to face their fears, and conquer a few of my own!
We went parasailing on Puerto Mogan beach, during our review trip to Solobre Golf Resort in Gran Canaria with James Villas. It was amazing, and one of many activities you can try out whilst staying in Gran Canaria. It was also terrifying, but all turned out well in the end!