Naughty Nomad: Not your typical backpacker story by Mark Zolo

Author:Mark Zolo [Zolo, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Create Space
Published: 2012-07-07T16:00:00+00:00

Journal Extract from Victoria Falls Bridge

I tremble as I look down into a deep gorge. It’s a long, long way down—almost 130 metres to where the violent Zambezi River rushes below. The valley rumbles with the sound of the mighty Victoria Falls behind me: one of the seven wonders of the natural world.

As I inch closer to the edge, my legs shake uncontrollably. It’s the scariest moment of my life. I try to convince my nervous system that jumping is a good thing. I stare at the horizon and pretend it’s a dream.

A voice from behind me shouts, “Three!”

Get ready.

“Two!”

Thump, thump, thump.

“One!”

FUCK!

“JUMP!”

I jump towards the sun and fall towards the earth like Icarus. My view of the horizon shifts to the bellows beneath as I rapidly accelerate and plunge towards the ground. Faster and faster I fall. I savour the blissful death of control.

Then two seconds before I smash into the ground—boing!

* * *

My first bungee jump was the best feeling of my life. The second one was even better. I can’t imagine a more beautiful setting than Victoria Falls to have one of the world’s biggest jumps (however, in 2012 the very same bungee snapped, sending a young Aussie girl to her doom into the river below).

After throwing ourselves off the bridge, Danny and I ended the day in style by returning to watch the sunset over the falls. Joined by some backpackers we had met in our hostel, we made it an occasion by bringing along a picnic, some music, some red wine, and, of course, some grass. It marked the end our Ethiopian stash—seven countries and a hundred-odd joints later. I knew exactly how to mark the occasion.

I isolated myself for the grand finale at sunset, worming my way outside the protective railing and finding a lonely ledge with the water cascading beside me. I enjoyed the delightful fusion of a glass of South African red in one hand and a splif in the other while Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb” decorated the moment.

I sat in awe as the majestic falls in the dusk—but the sun never set.

My perception altered and I watched as the earth itself turned while the sun stood still. It wasn’t some distant star falling away, but an entire planet, cracked and flooding, recoiling from a cosmic ball of fire. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen—I even shed a tear.

I had the same contented feeling only offered to me by Antarctica and the Nubian Desert. I felt true to that young boy who used to study the Atlas his mother had bought him, and then stare out his bedroom window and dream of the land beyond the sea.

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