Hold On Tight

Yesterday we left 80 Mile Beach and rode into Broome. Now this is a tourist town! There are restaurants, shops, attractions, tours and beaches everywhere. Unfortunately that means it's incredibly popular, especially because it's school holidays, so accommodation is scarce and I don't have anything booked. At the visitor's centre a sandwich board lists about a dozen local caravan parks and they're all full. Luckily they find me a motel room due to a recent cancellation and I merely needed a third mortgage on my house to pay the astronomical charges.

Kirsten is flying home today so I leave Dave and Kirsten to their own devices. I have my bike booked in for a service which means I need entertainment within walking distance. I've found just the thing; an ultralight flight!

The pilot is a mad Englishman called Charles. He spent 10 years riding a Honda Goldwing around the world; crossed the Sahara desert on the same bike; drove a double decker bus through outback Australia; and now he's saving up for the next adventure by selling joyrides on his flexible wing ultralight. He straps me into the passenger seat, tells me to hold on tight, then he guns the engine down the runway.

!

I'm speechless. I've flown in fixed wing light aircraft once or twice and this is altogether different. There is no feeling of enclosure, just a deep void of space all around. Visibility is not obscured by windows or pillars. The wind blasts over my body. It's like stepping out of a car and onto a bike. This is the closest I've ever felt to flying without a vehicle: I can almost imagine the ultralight isn't here. Charles is obviously a professional; he swoops low over Cable Beach, giving me the best photo opportunities imaginable. The landing at Broome airport is smooth and unbelievably slow.

Back on the ground I can't wipe the ear to ear grin off my face. Later that night I'm still reliving the experience; that is something I definitely need to do more often.