Victoria Falls Bridge Bungee Jump - 4th of July

John's "last" breakfast before the jump.

John with the Victoria Falls Bridge in the background.

I wake early and call Art via Skype.  It is 7:30 A.M. in Victoria Falls and 10:30 P.M. in California.  It’s wonderful to see Art’s face on Skype, if ever so briefly.  The connection is slow and we turn off the video feature and talk for 30 minutes.  All is well at home and we will return in one week.

I allow John to seep in and sit alone and drink coffee at the Jungle Junction Café within the Victoria Falls Hotel. At 9:00 A.M. I wake John and we enjoy a fine buffet breakfast together at this outdoor café, with views of the Victoria Falls Bridge.

Curious Monkeys

The long walk to the bridge

Bungee jumping is John’s top priority and we walk 10 minutes, up to the small strip of town. Street vendors approach us selling polished wooden hippos, elephants and copper wire bracelets. Their persistence was a novelty to us yesterday, but today it is simply annoying and uncomfortable.  We walk briskly, refusing to engage in conversation. An energetic woman of 40 approaches us with clip board in hand and asks us if we want to take an elephant ride or a sunset cruise? I decline and John interjects, telling her that he is planning to go bungee jumping with “Shearwater Adventure.” She tells us that she is a booking agent for these activities and takes us upstairs to her small office and sells John the $155 adrenaline package of three activities; bungee jumping, bridge swing and bridge slide.  John researched these options and the prices yesterday and negotiates a $10 discount but when I pull out a credit card, the price reverts to $155. She walks us to a bank around the corner where I intend to withdraw cash, but the A.T.M. is temporarily out of money, so John pays with his cash, a reserve of American dollars that I knew was there, should we not be able to exchange money easily.

John holds a voucher in exchange for his cash and she walks with us part way to the bridge explaining that we must pass through customs on the Zimbabwe side, but will receive a pass to access just the bridge, where all these adrenaline activities take place. We walk a kilometer along the asphalt road and pass dozens of 18 and 24 wheel, semi- trucks, waiting to cross the border.  Baboons cavort on their loads, swing under their chassis and pick industrial waste from the pavement.  It is an unappealing yet fascinating stretch of road with the stench of diesel permeating the air.  A line of local Zimbabweans spill out from a faded, single story cement building and I snap a photo of both the line of trucks and the line of people. A guard approaches me crossly, telling me there is a fine for taking photos of the flag, which was not my intent, and I apologize and refrain from any other photos until well on the other side of the checkpoint.  We show our passports, receive a square of paper with #2 scrawled on it, exit outside, cross over to a table beneath a shade tree and show the scrap of paper and passports once again.  We see the bridge ahead, a beautiful engineering feat built in 1905.  It elegantly spans the canyon, the Zambia River rushing powerfully below.

I ask John if he is crazy, contemplating jumping from this 350 foot high bridge? I offer to reimburse him the money if he will change his mind but he affirms his insanity with a nervous grin; admits that he is scared but that he wants to proceed. We are pestered by street vendors as we make our way along the pedestrian walkway to the far side of the bridge where John is checked in and weighed.  Happily this area is off limits to the vendors and we climb a short, hillside stairway to the visitor center and the Bridge Café. John signs the release forms, is weighed in, and we wait for the better part of an hour, watching video clips of veteran jumpers who have survived. John chats with some of the jumpers as they watch and critique their dive and John’s confidence builds. Suddenly, John’s number is called and we are escorted from the visitor center to the center of the bridge where the “Crew” awaits, under a covered platform.  Just as John is being harnessed, the card in my camera flashes “full.”  I have a new one, but struggle to open the tamper proof packaging and thrust the package at one of the crew, begging him to open it for me, so that I can reload before my son jumps. My camera is reloaded, John moves to the edge of the platform, spreads out his arms and dives. Having the responsibility of filming his death defying jump, somewhat takes my mind off the reality of what is actually happening as I struggle to keep his distant, bouncing figure in my view finder. I note that his arms are moving against gravity, which assures me that he is alive, but it is an anxious 10 minutes before he has been hauled back up to the catwalk beneath the bridge and traversed to the end of the bridge and back to me.

His second jump is a “Bridge Swing,” requiring yet another dive from the platform, but this version has a second guide line attachment that swings him in an arch, rather than the head long bounce of the bungee. Only the Bridge Slide is left; a zip line from one side of the canyon to the far end of the bridge. The platform for this is above the visitor center and we wait patiently for John to have his turn. John was hoping that the zip line would be his first event; building up to the bungee jump and the Bridge swing, and after the others, the zip line seems tame. He meets me at the visitors center, tells me he would like a beer and struts over to the café bar, returning with his beer, having conquered this bridge and his fears.  We wait another 30 minutes to view his jump on the video, but don’t purchase it. The video is $45, not very well choreographed and I have the essence video-taped on my camera.