CHUTE THE BREEZE

Craig Tansley steps out into thin air and drops in for lunch at Rochford Wines.

At 2400 metres, as the Yarra Valley and its 141 wineries appear as specks below me through the window of our tiny propeller plane, my tandem skydive instructor advises it’s time to relax and compose myself.

But there are some times in our lives that we’re just not meant to be relaxed. Jumping 3500 metres from a plane connected by four tiny clips to a stranger is one of them.

We have 600 metres still to climb, instructor Ossie Khan points out various buildings of the Melbourne CBD, Port Phillip Bay and French Island all visible on this clear summer afternoon; directly below he indicates the orange cross someone’s laid down next to the vines at Rochford Wines, our landing zone today.

My mouth craves saliva, I swallow and swallow just to find enough to talk.

I think of the woman who let me sneak in at a busy intersection off Hoddle Street on the drive to Lilydale Airport, I wish I was on the ground buying her a coffee right now. I think of the friendly bloke at the service station where I stopped for petrol, I’d love to be there, finishing our discussion about Melbourne’s recent unseasonal rainfall.

”I’m opening the door,” Khan warns, the enormity of where we are rushes up at 100km/h, my breaths come in short, sharp bursts that sting my chest.

I’m scared but it takes me a few seconds to realise I’m smiling so hard that my cheeks actually ache.

And then it comes; that moment of clarity. My heartbeat slows down and as I stare downwards I can’t remember anything looking quite so peaceful. There’s nothing below me but 3500 metres of pure Yarra Valley air and under that a patchwork quilt landscape of manicured wineries fringed by the wilderness of the Kinglake National Park.

Then I’m falling like a boulder but feeling like a bird, we’re plummeting to earth at speeds reaching 220km/h but there’s no sickening terror like you get bungy jumping.

Many thanks to The Age Traveller for featuring this article.