From zip-lining to abseiling, my boyfriend took me on a terrifying holiday

The Brits conquer the Great Indoors. Their natural habitat is the theatre, opera and art gallery. I spend half the year in each hemisphere and when I boomerang back home, it’s outdoor pursuits I’m craving. And Oz has so much to offer. I’ve snorkelled with whale sharks at Ningaloo, cuddled quokkas at Rottnest, scuba dived with giant manta rays at Lady Elliot Island, cycled around Uluru and cruised through crocs at Kakadu.

I recently, albeit reluctantly, allowed my boyfriend to choose our latest mini-break destination. A “fun” trek into the wilds of Victoria sounded idyllic. It was only as I dangled over the rainforest on a zip wire that it became clear that he was actually trying to kill me.

Now, I have a head for heights: I’ve social climbed … well, okay, maybe just the lower social slopes. But at Lorne’s elevated adventure park, I reached new heights … of terror. When I saw the harness I was to be strapped into, I clung to the tree like Robinson Crusoe to his life raft.

“Call this ‘fun’?” I asked my bloke, aghast. “Other than, say, the bubonic plague, could there be anything less fun than hurtling through thin air held up by a bit of dental floss?” In answer, he just whooshed across the leafy gum canopy at breakneck speed, whooping. “Brilliant!” he shouted enthusiastically from the platform below. “You’ll love it!”

“Any intelligent person, even a reasonably bright fungus, can see that leaping into the unknown is a stupid idea!” I called out. “I mean, does the word ‘splat’ mean anything to youuuu?!”

But my tantrum made me lose balance and I was suddenly catapulting through the air. After what felt like an eternity, but was probably about 30 seconds, I experienced a wrench. Certain that my right arm had been torn from its socket and was already hitchhiking back to Melbourne without me, I was amazed to realise that I’d landed safely.

Certain that my right arm had been torn from its socket and was already hitchhiking back to Melbourne without me, I was amazed to realise that I’d landed safely.

KATHY LETTE

The shockwave zip-coaster ride is the scariest thing I’ve ever endured … well, which doesn’t involve gynaecologists. But taking in the spectacular view sweeping down to Victoria’s Surf Coast, I was too overawed to be cross.

“Right,” my fella said, unhooking my harnesses. “Next, abseiling!”