“I bet you won’t do it dad.” I’ve been hearing that a lot today. In just over a weeks time Lisa and I are taking Hannah on a trip to Auckland to do the touristy stuff. Of course, when in Auckland one of the must do’s is a trip up the Sky Tower. Simple eh? Take a lift to the observation deck some 186 metres up and enjoy the view. Take some pictures, have a coffee and wander over to the glass floor to stare down at the ant-like people below. A two year old could do it (and many do – I’ve seen the pictures). So why is my stomach churning at the thought?
I don’t like heights! I know how incredibly safe it is, that it’s designed to withstand significant earthquakes, wind and fire. Tens of thousands have been there before me and lived to tell the tale. In fact to even be apprehensive when I have far more chance of injury driving to the supermarket, crossing the road or climbing the stairs at home is really quite ridiculous. But from past experience I know that if I make it into the lift and out onto the deck I will be a hyperventilating, muttering, knock-kneed wreck smiling manically as I wait for the next lift down. I may even start walking around on my knees in a vain attempt to be closer to the ground.
That said, this time I would like to to be different. I want to boldly stride out of the lift and over to the glass floor and then proceed to jump up and down to the astonishment of my family before treating them to a coffee and snack in the restaurant. I want to lean on the glass and take in the 360 degree views and then stroll out onto the Sky-Jump platform and launching myself off….OK – I have taken it too far….
I have just read this to Lisa and she laughed at me….we shall see…..
I’m with you Aidan – there is a glass floor section (at most it is 2x2m) on the second floor of the Bullring (big shopping centre) in Birmingham – I can’t even walk over that! If you do the tower thing, I promise to walk over the glass too how about that?
It’s a deal Sarah :0)
I have similar pictures of my feet at the Sky Tower. My way of dealing with it was to rationalise it – if I saw someone fatter/heavier than me do it, and come away unscathed, then the pane of glass should also take my weight.