ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel

Slovenian Clouds Won't Catch You Or Break Your Fall

Updated on May 26, 2017
The airport on the outskirts of Portoroz, Slovenia
The airport on the outskirts of Portoroz, Slovenia

The Fiery Furnace

Just before the 2016 Elections, I was sifting both candidates like wheat, in hopes that whatever remained would be good enough to rise as dough. The thing is, as I am not much of a baker I wasn’t sure what appliance or utensil one would use for sifting, so instead I decided to chuck both candidates into a heated furnace and see what good was hidden inside their molten remains.

I must remember to do this individually next time to avoid a mix up as I had some trouble deciphering which was which. Right away I had a problem voting for a woman. It’s not that I believe their place is maintaining the structure of any nuclear family. It’s just that unless Hillary Clinton was going to do something that no other president has ever done; like lowering the drinking age or making Dr.King’s dream -the part about putting children on the moon or whatever- a reality. I saw no need to refer to Bill as the first Knight, or first man, or whatever title he would have assumed.

Portoroz also offers loads of gambling & sailing
Portoroz also offers loads of gambling & sailing

Bra or Brazier? I sometimes confuse the two.

The golden blob that was left of Donald Trump, ruined my furnace. The furnace belonged to my grandmother (God bless her soul) and would need replacing before winter. Perhaps it was time for central heating or, maybe I could get one of those fancy braziers, I saw in Slovenia. Yes a brazier, along with providing warmth, it would certainly come in handy for roasting smores. Hmm smores… White, fluffy, bra, chocolate, sandwich, crust Hmm. Sorry, lost my train of thought…

Okay, where was I? Oh yes, Slovenia. Slovenia is where I was investigating rumors of the now First Lady’s past whoredoms. Rumors I think I awoke one morning after a surfeit of libations and began to spread myself. That morning happened to be Election day, the day I should have been exercising my right as a new American to take part in the electoral process (after fifteen years of naturalization, I still use the term “new American” as a way of disavowing my participation should any outcome turn autocratic and dictatorial).

A
Portoroz slovenia:
Portorož, Slovenia

get directions

The Heimlich Maneuver

To make a long story short, I voted for Trump to recompense any damage I feared my stories about his wife might have caused his campaign. I knew Hillary would win so why not throw the man a bone. I guess we all know how that turned out.

Speaking of bones, I was choking on one back in Slovenia as I was fighting back my stomach pangs with a delicious bowl of bobici. This is soup, with chunks of meat and equal parts bone and gristle. A Gentlemen ran to my aid and performed an alternate version of the Heimlich Maneuver which involved a swift kick to the spine and a cuff to the throat. He was also kind enough to give me a lift back from the hospital, which is located on the very top of a hill in Izola.

We exchanged words. Football, Europe’s damn immigrants, and skydiving. The latter he kept pushing as if he were some kind of salesman, whose job it was to convince complete strangers that their lives would be so much more complete if they would take a trip culminating with a jump from an airplane midflight. I told him I had never “been up.”

It is here he mentioned Sola Paranoja, a skydiving company that operates at the Aerodrome Portoroz or Portoroz Airport for you native English.

The Parachute

He handed me a phone and I made a reservation with a gentleman named Ales, who had the soothing voice of a doctor who was about to reveal the cancer growing in someone’s balls. I arrived at the airfield on a beautiful Saturday morning. Years of alcohol abuse has left me forgetting what Saturday mornings looked like. In fact, the last memory I have of a Saturday morning is one of my mother calling me from her job (graveyard shift at the hospital) to tell me to get my ass down to the supermarket when I was seventeen. It was my job to help her with the groceries, we didn’t have a car, so I was the grocery cart she would use to push all the way home.

Years of carrying frozen chicken and milk jugs have left me with a pretty sturdy frame, something I hadn’t noticed until I met Ales. I stand a foisting six feet tall when I am wearing my Nike Air Force Ones.

Ales’ head rested on my chest during our introductory hug. I guess that’s how they greet people in Slovenia. The warmth one feels from salutations quickly turned to dread. I couldn’t understand how a man diminutive to my stature could possibly rip a parachute with me in tandem. Tandem is skydiving jargon for an amateur who is harnessed to an experienced skydiving instructor. Parachute is skydiving jargon for… well, parachute.

Midday on the Adriatic
Midday on the Adriatic

Ales and company

Ales was kind and funny, though I am not sure jokes about being splattered over runway asphalt are at all appropriate when attempting to coax a first-timer to jump out of an airplane.

He gave me a tour of the operation; a giant tent set up on the grassy striction outside the airport. Young men and women were busying themselves with paperwork and furling canopies neatly into backpacks.

A young woman who looked like she was better suited for work at your neighborhood Hooters, sat me down and questioned me.

When was the last time I consumed alcohol?

Is the booger hanging in my left nostril a side effect of profuse cocaine use?

When was the last time my heart stopped beating? Did I seek and receive medical attention for said stoppage?

I answered, for breakfast, no and never, respectively.

Note: it is best not to consume any alcoholic beverages for up to twelve hours prior to jumping out of a plane, or taking on any other taxing activity such as scuba diving, bear wrestling and the like.

Nerves

After the formalities, I met Matjaz, the man I would trust to pull the ripcord to the parachute as he rode atop me piggyback, falling at neck-breaking speeds above the Adriatic.

I was immediately at ease at the sight of Matjaz. A robust, strapping fellow who spends his days off shucking mussels and eating raw pork. If I had any hesitations at this point they would have been quickly allayed at this fact, but I had none because I was still drunk.

I donned a flight suit that left little to the imagination, and after a few exercises at his lead, we made our way over to a revving Piper Seneca, a small plane that seats five when configured for skydiving.

I must say in all this I never felt an inkling of nervousness, perhaps it was Matjaz and Ales’ ability to make this seem like a walk in the park. Or perhaps It was because they told me I was about to be there first black jumper(they have had two previous jumpers but they were Canadians-they don’t count)whatever it was I expected to be far more jittery than I was at that moment.

Croatia on the otherside
Croatia on the otherside

The fall

The plane took off over Croatia which is right on the Slovenian border, before circling back over the Adriatic sea, allowing for quaint views of Italian cities Trieste and Monfalcone. Over the drop zone, the pilot gave the signal, and the first team disappeared outside the airplane door. Then Matjaz steered me to the open door, where we sat on the edge with our legs dangling beneath the plane. It was here I realized I was really about to go through with this, and still, I remained unfazed by shaky nerves or fear.The wind rushed across my face and, I could smell the chill of the Alps in the distance. Then without a word Matjaz pushed forward and, my heart skipped with fear as we plunged towards the Earth.

How on Earth did I get here, or shall I say how in Heaven? Oh yes, an airplane, the very airplane that was now speeding past above my feet. The freefall lasted about thirty seconds, much less than they do in my nightmares. When Matjaz pulled the cord, sound returned to my ears and all fear was gone. It was in that moment that I planned to live my life with more urgency, and less carelessness. I would begin with buying a new car, one with seatbelts. Using Q-tips instead of a screwdriver to clean my ears and perhaps chewing my food a little slower, lest I choke. After all, I may not have the Mayor of Portoroz(that bloke with the Heimlich) to save my life next time. Ah, yes politicians, they are everywhere selling everything, just like Trump, whom I wish to thank for the opportunity to live on the wild side. If I could do it all over again though, I would skip the ballots and just spend Election day up in the air. Sola Paranoja,Slovenia


Comments

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    • profile image

      Beiza 

      16 months ago

      that was LOL funny story. Quite descriptive and well put together.

      Thoroughly enjoyed reading it.

    • profile image

      Norman C 

      16 months ago

      Great stuff. Thought it was funny. Good read. Need another story

    • profile image

      Karmi80 

      16 months ago

      Great article, loved it.

    • profile image

      Robynne Evans 

      16 months ago

      Keep it up cam great work

    working

    This website uses cookies

    As a user in the EEA, your approval is needed on a few things. To provide a better website experience, hubpages.com uses cookies (and other similar technologies) and may collect, process, and share personal data. Please choose which areas of our service you consent to our doing so.

    For more information on managing or withdrawing consents and how we handle data, visit our Privacy Policy at: https://hubpages.com/privacy-policy#gdpr

    Show Details
    Necessary
    HubPages Device IDThis is used to identify particular browsers or devices when the access the service, and is used for security reasons.
    LoginThis is necessary to sign in to the HubPages Service.
    Google RecaptchaThis is used to prevent bots and spam. (Privacy Policy)
    AkismetThis is used to detect comment spam. (Privacy Policy)
    HubPages Google AnalyticsThis is used to provide data on traffic to our website, all personally identifyable data is anonymized. (Privacy Policy)
    HubPages Traffic PixelThis is used to collect data on traffic to articles and other pages on our site. Unless you are signed in to a HubPages account, all personally identifiable information is anonymized.
    Amazon Web ServicesThis is a cloud services platform that we used to host our service. (Privacy Policy)
    CloudflareThis is a cloud CDN service that we use to efficiently deliver files required for our service to operate such as javascript, cascading style sheets, images, and videos. (Privacy Policy)
    Google Hosted LibrariesJavascript software libraries such as jQuery are loaded at endpoints on the googleapis.com or gstatic.com domains, for performance and efficiency reasons. (Privacy Policy)
    Features
    Google Custom SearchThis is feature allows you to search the site. (Privacy Policy)
    Google MapsSome articles have Google Maps embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    Google ChartsThis is used to display charts and graphs on articles and the author center. (Privacy Policy)
    Google AdSense Host APIThis service allows you to sign up for or associate a Google AdSense account with HubPages, so that you can earn money from ads on your articles. No data is shared unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    Google YouTubeSome articles have YouTube videos embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    VimeoSome articles have Vimeo videos embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    PaypalThis is used for a registered author who enrolls in the HubPages Earnings program and requests to be paid via PayPal. No data is shared with Paypal unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    Facebook LoginYou can use this to streamline signing up for, or signing in to your Hubpages account. No data is shared with Facebook unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    MavenThis supports the Maven widget and search functionality. (Privacy Policy)
    Marketing
    Google AdSenseThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Google DoubleClickGoogle provides ad serving technology and runs an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Index ExchangeThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    SovrnThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Facebook AdsThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Amazon Unified Ad MarketplaceThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    AppNexusThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    OpenxThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Rubicon ProjectThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    TripleLiftThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Say MediaWe partner with Say Media to deliver ad campaigns on our sites. (Privacy Policy)
    Remarketing PixelsWe may use remarketing pixels from advertising networks such as Google AdWords, Bing Ads, and Facebook in order to advertise the HubPages Service to people that have visited our sites.
    Conversion Tracking PixelsWe may use conversion tracking pixels from advertising networks such as Google AdWords, Bing Ads, and Facebook in order to identify when an advertisement has successfully resulted in the desired action, such as signing up for the HubPages Service or publishing an article on the HubPages Service.
    Statistics
    Author Google AnalyticsThis is used to provide traffic data and reports to the authors of articles on the HubPages Service. (Privacy Policy)
    ComscoreComScore is a media measurement and analytics company providing marketing data and analytics to enterprises, media and advertising agencies, and publishers. Non-consent will result in ComScore only processing obfuscated personal data. (Privacy Policy)
    Amazon Tracking PixelSome articles display amazon products as part of the Amazon Affiliate program, this pixel provides traffic statistics for those products (Privacy Policy)