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On Monday, I flew a short distance. I'd finally got my act together, and [livejournal.com profile] wimble and I headed down to Lewes to have a day's paragliding lesson. Amid a lot of bumping, scraping, sprawling on the floor, panicking, flailing and wrestling there were lovely moments of just hanging in the air.

I suspect that paragliding is a lot of fun. Learning, however, is very hard work. Promotional material for paragliding always shows someone floating freely in a tranquil sky, at one with the birds. It omits to mention the landing at the bottom of the hill part, which is closely followed by the gathering up of a hundred square feet of angry nylon and walking back up the hill. Walking up hills features extremely heavily in learning to paraglide. Not least because, as you get to the top of the hill, someone notices the wind's changed and compels you to walk to the top of a different hill instead. Never take up a sport which is dependent on something so quixotic as British weather.

But I been done seen about everything, when I see a Wimble fly.

While I was out on Tuesday, [livejournal.com profile] secutatrix let a bunch of weirdos into my house. I would have told her off, but she's in my good books at the moment for bringing me back a mysterious-shaped canister of sirop de menthe verte from her recent trip to Foreign. Many thanks to those who suggested it - it does indeed make excellent milk shakes. Though I can't help feeling that if you diluted it 1 part in 6 with water as it suggests in the instructions, the result would be vile.

The weirdos tried to hide, but I eventually located them in Intrustion. Still, they turned out to be quite nice weirdos in the end. I've not seen [livejournal.com profile] grahamb to chat to in far too long. And [livejournal.com profile] toripink does a mean line in limericks.

Now, if only I'd actually remembered to give [livejournal.com profile] davefish his birthday present, instead of just thinking I should.

Date: 2005-08-12 07:34 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bateleur.livejournal.com
Though I can't help feeling that if you diluted it 1 part in 6 with water as it suggests in the instructions, the result would be vile.

It's not a drink I'd expect you to like since it's best served at near freezing point as an antidote to the silly temperatures in the South (that's the South of France, not England). But yes, 1:5 is about right.

Mint Milkshakes

Date: 2005-08-12 08:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] beckyl.livejournal.com
You need to visit Reading town centre. I have found a place that does the most wonderful milkshakes of all types, with at least three different options for a mint milkshake. It's called Shakeaway, and it's located half-way along Smelly Alley. Of course, being able to make your own mint milkshakes at last is also good, I suppose.

Date: 2005-08-12 09:15 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] waistcoatmark.livejournal.com
That's why I stopped after two hang-gliding sessions: have to start driving at 7:30 in order to get to the place in time. Can only find out if the weather's suitable at 8am. And even then I once got turned away when I arrived at 10, 'cos the weather had changed.

2 sessions out of 5 weekends didn't strike me as good odds.

Date: 2005-08-16 01:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] evilmattikinz.livejournal.com
Persevere with the PG training, once you get through it instead of short hops with lots of launches and landings and things you realise that even long top to bottoms involve a lot of sitting back and thinking "ahhhhh, this wing is flying itself, lets admire the view, I'm flying! Isn't this ace?!"[0]. The secret to getting through training quickly is lots of ground handling to get used to instinctively dealing with the wing.
This is also a good time to cultivate friends that love to drive and not fly. (so they can take you as close to the top of a hill as possible and retrieve you at the bottom).
Training - consider training on a tow instead of on a hill and then doing a conversion - much less (in fact none) going up hills and quick turnaround and less susceptible to the "great" british weather.


[0] Shortly followed by, "damnit, the only place to land around here appears to be in fields with cows[1], cows or cows.
[1] Oh look ladies, entertainment - the farmer is falling out of the sky on a flying contraption. Oh look, wonder if the brightly coloured thing is tasty. Wonder if it is better to stand on than grass. Why is the farmer so shouty?

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