I really hate the O2. It's a soulless, corporate shithole of a venue, and having worked there in the coldest, most miserable winter in the history of the universe a couple of years back, I have only the worse feelings towards it. Buuut I'm a pretty fickle person so when I found out you could walk over the top of it, I booked in straight away!
As the person who "didn't think I'd make it past week 8", I took my friend Chris along for my final blog activity. Chris suggested taking the Emirates Air Line cable car across the river, which in itself is an experience. A pretty terrifying one. There was a sense of uneasiness as the wind and rain rocked us from side to side and the planes from City Airport flew uncomfortably close to the cables and we pretended to not be crying on the inside... Still, it didn't stop us from riding it back and forth across the river three times.
We got off when we realised we were going to be late, checked in at the cringingly named "Base Camp" and changed into a slightly superfluous yet completely badass jumpsuit and pair of hiking boots. But not me; I went to the toilet at the wrong time and to save a few minutes, our guide pretty much had to dress me, which was good because, well, who doesn't wish someone else would dress them, plus I most definitely zoned out during the instructional video five minutes earlier.
And so after being suited up, you're harnessed up and attached to a wire, which at first seemed a bit unnecessary but the ascent is actually a lot steeper than you think. You don't fully appreciate a 30° gradient until you're walking up it on a wet trampoline-like surface, which is the point at which you realise that 30° is steep. But it eases off as you get to the top, when you're treated to a beautiful panoramic view of the city, a whole... 52 metres above ground! Okay, it's not that high really, but it is pretty stunning. Windy, cold and stunning!
After a fifteen minute stop-off at the top, you've obviously got to get down. The descent is trickier than the ascent, and is easiest going backwards rather than forwards. Or in Chris' case, sideways. Watching Chris crabbing his way back down was more hilarious than I could possibly put into words, which meant I took about twice as long to get down to the bottom as most people, holding up the five or so people behind me. So it was nice to have Chris reassure me with, "don't worry Almas, there's only a good 50 feet between you and the next person". Thanks Chris.
And that's it. 52 weeks doth a year make, so my one year of trying new things is officially complete. Without turning this into a total cheese-fest, I'd like to thank to my family and friends for the time they spent with me on these activities - hopefully you enjoyed them as much as I did. And I'm eternally grateful to anyone who bothered to read my ramblings, even if you did just stumble across this page via a porn site - true story, a handful did, I'll take it as a compliment.