So, after repeated green-faced, quivering incidents on cable-cars at the behest of my darling wife, I'm back to the point where I'm taking on ludicrous adrenalin activities to quell my rampant acrophobia.Īfter a seemingly endless period of time atop the CN Tower restaurant, being asked to lean backwards over the edge and pull off Superman poses, it's mercifully time to go back inside.īut before doing that, I've a mission to complete. They're evil contraptions, with gruesome disaster only a pair of really big, cartoon scissors away. I think this stems from being turned into a gibbering wreck as a seven-year-old by the cable car at Alton Towers. Of all the things that go scarily high, these are my least favourite. Sadly, this all-consuming obsession seems particularly to apply to cable-cars. Show her a picture of a funicular, a box tram, a monorail or a boat cynically made to look like a pirate ship, and she'll insist we're going on it with supernaturally vociferous determination. And the delightful sadist who is now my wife made darned sure I was fully reeled in before revealing her disturbingly passionate love of novelty transport. It works perfectly well with avocado and musical theatre, so there's no reason it shouldn't work with heights too.Īlas, romance has a tendency of getting in the way of such supremely brilliant plans.
Each lurch up and down is somehow more grimly terrifying than the last, and you're left bobbing around like a vigorously twanged cat flap.Īfter discovering skydiving is also not a miracle cure, I decided to stick to an eminently reasonable policy of just avoiding something I don't like. In fact, the sole thing I gained from the experience was the sure knowledge that bungee jumping is quite the most unpleasant activity you can ever inflict upon yourself. And, in the past, I've gone to quite extreme measures in the name of conquest.ĭoing a bungee jump, however, didn't make me feel any happier about tumbling from vertiginous platforms.
This snivelling act of cowardice is the latest in a long line of attempts to cure vertigo. I scuttle back, as far away from the edge as possible, adding a few top-grade swear words to the video that will be distributed to all other patrons' mothers. I manage to get the toes of one foot over, but the other leg won't move. I pause in fright, and the rest of the group starts a rhythmic, thigh-slapping clap in a totally counter-productive attempt at encouragement. The callous witch in charge says it's my turn to go first.
Having taken the coward's option of being the last to step outside, I'm somewhat infuriated to learn the guides are on to this trick. Such as making you stand with the toes of both feet over the edge. It's not enough that they harness you up and make you circle the tower at a dizzying height - they make you do stunts as well. The EdgeWalk at the CN Tower is either an experience of once-in-a-lifetime thrills or staggering cruelty, depending on your perspective. Especially when there's no barrier stopping you plunging 1,168ft and landing in a grizzly splatter of extravagantly dispersed organs. I'm sure the restaurant in Toronto's CN Tower is lovely, but the roof of said restaurant has less appeal. Time to hear the lament of a psycho Hear the story of a fragile heart Who was just like you but Too sensitive, too frail For this world of yours.The first tentative step onto the metal grille is accompanied by an intense desire to break down weeping - and the realisation the whole thing has been a terrible mistake. So ladies & gentlemen Welcome to the theater of fools. Tonight i feel like i'm on edge On the edge of dementia!
Your teases like a little pretty spark That bursts into fire… Did you know that your words Woke something up in me? Did you know i could be insane? Did you know that i would Lose my mind and revenge Standing on the edge of insanity!įeel the anger growing inside It destroys my sanity See all the strength it's giving me To forget all the rules You can't ignore the threat Whispering in your head It will burn your kindness To drown you into madness Will you blame it on me? The things that should not be They're not here cos' of me You're the one who screwed up Alone on a bench of the playground I'm watching their little games No one to look at my misery But the ones who like to jeerĭid you know i was weak When you stabbed me in the back? Did you know that i was in pain? Did you know i could fall From the edge of these depths That i was disturbed? No no no no!
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