Like most sensible people I will never jump out of a plane, airborne or otherwise. So it was with a rare enthusiasm that I seized upon the opportunity to visit Abu Dhabi’s new indoor skydiving facility.
Inside, I meet my American instructor, Chris Gray. He is a seasoned skydiver and a reassuring presence. Soon after, I find myself sat in a small room watching a short instructional video. It explains a variety of hand gestures – pointing upwards, chin up; two curled fingers, bend legs; thumbs down, get me the heck out of here, and so on. In truth, I’m just mesmerised by all the tricks and the hi-fives.
First, let us first get something straight: SkyVenture is not a simulator. There are no computer screens or rickety pods. You actually fly, propelled into the air by four super-powerful fans. After the video finishes, Chris bullet-points the essentials: keep your head up and your arms and legs out, he recounts. Both are to ensure that you avoid any nasty collisions.
Whilst putting on my safety equipment, I explain to him my acute vertigo, only to learn that my reluctance to evacuate a speeding plane at 8,000 ft is not due to a fear of heights, or flying, or indeed just good schooling, but a fear of falling. The psychology is a little sketchy, but the switchover happens around 36 ft – the height at which trainee skydivers first learn to jump. I explain that the distinction would be lost on me because at 35 ft I would already have the pilot in a chokehold, begging him to land the plane. Nevertheless, fully padded, I slip into my jumpsuit, receive my earplugs, goggles and helmet, and ready myself to fly.
The wind tunnel itself is a fairly innocuous sight, a bare cylindrical room encircled by two curved enclosures of plexi-glass. I wait with Chris in the antechamber as one of the team warms her up. Even with the earplugs, the roar is deafening. I‘m then gently ushered toward the threshold whereupon, folding my arms into my chest as instructed, I slowly lean into the wind.
The feeling is exhilarating; a column of air suddenly rushes up, plucking me firmly from gravity’s iron clasp. I now hover horizontally at a steady 2 ft above the floor. To breathe is to introduce your lungs to 875 hp of fan. I try my best to mimic the video – head up, flattening my hands, bending my legs slightly – but all memory of hand signals is wiped clear from my mind by the sheer force of the wind, and I stare rather blankly at Chris’s increasingly hieroglyphic directions. Thankfully, he resorts to simply manoeuvring my limbs manually and, as the wind catches, I’m borne aloft and floating free.
This newfound sense of freedom is quickly curtailed, however, and I soon find myself veering, fly-like, toward the plexi-glass screen. Pushing off solidly, I’m content to ricochet for a while, 6 or 7 ft above the floor, before being brought back down in order for Chris to demonstrate the much-needed art of steering. By this point, though, I have lost all sense of bodily control, and step out for a moment to allow him to show me how it’s done.
Bouncing, flying, somersaulting, walking up walls, he careers about the chamber with a controlled ease. The slightest inversion of his hands and he spins perfectly on the spot. It’s a joy to watch.
Before long I’m back in the tunnel with him. This time, however, we’re flying together. Our arms are linked and we’re soaring at a good 10 ft. He flashes a brief grin, and suddenly we’re spinning; the room becomes a solid blur, the wind beats my face like never before, and it is quite possibly one of the most amazing experiences of my life.
All too soon my time is up. Grinning and breathless (my limbs ache the following day), it is all that I can do to raise my arm for the customary hi-five. Chris tells me that his daughter, Skye (of course), has been flying in the wind tunnel since she was two-years-old. I can only grin idiotically in response and we make our way back upstairs.
In the end, I will never jump out of a plane. I will never experience plummeting thousands of feet (fingers crossed). But I have flown, and, even better, I enjoyed doing it. Surely now, only the sky’s the limit.
SkyVenture is located at Abu Dhabi Health & Fitness Club. Contact Blue Banana on 04 436 8100 or visit www.bluebanana.ae to book. A four-minute session costs Dhs290 per person for groups of up to five people costs Dhs290 per person for groups of up to five people
