In this story, I’m in Rio, the city of caipirinhas, samba and… hang-gliding, apparently.
Before I could change my mind, we were running. Off the wooden platform, away from the mountainside, into thin air. The hang-glider caught a wind current and suddenly we were floating between earth and sky. My head spun for a moment as Rio spread out like a glittering map below.
Two days earlier, I'd been preparing to sleep on a hostel floor. Now here I was, soaring above one of the world's most beautiful cities, completely free, with nothing but air beneath my feet.
