PARAWORLD

While driving along a sunny country road in the north of Ishigaki one day, we stumbled upon a small sign pointing right for "PARAWORLD". What could it be? I put my money on some sort of exotic vegetable and fruit production facility. Jeff had his on a tropical retirement home for paraplegics. We had to find out!

At the end of the dirt road we found a few friendly folk lounging in their yard. Their occupation seemed to consist of lounging, until hapless tourists (like ourselves) got curious enough about the sign to Paraworld to drive down their road, at which point they could grab up their paragliding equipment in the blink of an eye, stick a helmet on your head, attach a few cords to you, accompany you down a short path to the beach and boom! Have you soaring through the clouds and over the ocean before you knew it. Which is precisely what we found ourselves doing.

For those of you who don't know what paragliding is (mom) just look at the pictures above to get a basic idea. The instructor has hand controls with which they can direct the movement of the whole contraption, and there's a motor on the back. So it isn't like you're just floating tamely in a parachute.

It started out pretty much that way though, I suppose they want to get you used to the idea before freaking you out. My guy took me up up up very high over the ocean (giving me a marvelous view o the reef, as you see to the left) and we just sat there for a while. Right as I began to get antsy, the fun began. "You like spiral?" He asked. "Yeah! Spiral!" I answer. He cranked on the motor and began a terrifying rapid spiral descent towards the sea. "Weeeeeeeeeeeee!" I think I was screaming. Then we began swooping back and forth across the beach. Big arches that reminding me of the Pirate Ship at the amusement park: you know, you kind of feel this weightless moment at the top of an arch where your stomach goes into your throat and you start looking for your bucket to vomit in.

Since I kept laughing hysterically, he decided I was having big fun (which I was). "I'll show you how to fly!" He exclaims. Then he directs me to take my arms out from behind the safety straps (yea, the woman instructing me before take-off had made very clear that I should be gripping these from behind while flying) which left my entire torso free of any restraints. Then he told me to lean as far forward as the safety cords holding me would let me go, then spread my arms.

Oh, he was right. I sure was flying. From that angle I could see no part of the paragliding contraction holding me or flying above me, all I could see were my arms stretched out to either side and the ocean, reef, and beach roaring past below. Ah, what fun! I felt like Bastian Balthazar Bux when he in finally united with Falkor for the ride of a life time.