Queenstown is a lively town on the shores of beautiful Lake Wakatipu, surrounded by snow-covered mountains. It is the home of modern bungy jumping (which was first done with vines by the people of Vanuatu) and plays host to all kinds of extreme sports and activities. The shops sell snowboards, skis and outdoor gear and everywhere you look, there are paragliders overhead or jetboats on the water or planes doing aerial acrobatics.

I arrived at night and took myself to an Indian restaurant for tea. I ended up being sick all night - whether from the food or something else I don't know - so the next day I took it pretty easy and had a wander around the lake and into town. The following day, still feeling slightly queasy but needing to seize the day and the proverbial bull by the horns, I booked myself in for a skydive. I was picked up at 11.30 and driven in a van with my fellow jumpers Cathy, Alice and Marianne, to Glenorchy, about half an hour down on the other side of the lake. The road was full of twists and turns and did nothing for my stomach's equanimity but I was really excited as I've wanted to skydive for as long as I can remember. We were given next to no briefing, only signing a waiver, and then were driven to the 'aerodrome,' which was a grassy strip with a teeny tiny plane. The other two went up first and Marianne and I sat on our own on and waited. I had honestly expected a full-on lesson with lots of instruction as to what to do and why, but as it turned out, there wasn't much you really needed to know. We watched Cathy and Alice land and then got ourselves strapped up and into the plane in our fetching yellow jumpsuits and Biggles hats. The plane was so small that there were no seats and only enough room for the pilot and five others squished up together. The scenic flight was spectacular and you could see the mountains really close up, especially through the door, which was duct-taped plastic sheeting. We reached 12,000 feet and put goggles on and did the final strapping-on, then the plastic was taken off and suddenly there was nothing between us and the ether. My instructor, Mal, shouted at me to hang my feet over the edge of the aeroplane, and then I was hanging there in the air for a second while he was still sat on the plane. He slid off and there was a brief heart-stopping second while my brain tried to process the fact that my body was hurtling through space at terminal velocity. Luckily, my brain got with the programme fairly quickly and I had time to really enjoy my 45 seconds of 200 kph freefall. It was the best feeling and I couldn't stop grinning! Though that could also be because the air was mashing into my cheeks... Not the most flattering sport, skydiving. The parachute jerked us upwards all too soon and it was totally silent except for me laughing and Mal whooping as he spun us around. The views were mind-blowing and the landing was so smooth. I was meant to stick my legs up as we reached the ground, and then stand up, but I didn't quite get the whole standing thing and ended up on my bum - but gently! Fantastic! Will do it again one day for sure.

The next day, my last in Queenstown, I decided to try a bungy jump. There are three to choose from: a super-high one off a gondola, a jump off a bridge into water, and one from a ledge above the town. I decided on the latter, and went into the shop to inquire, but found myself walking out with a ticket a few minutes later. I took the cable car up, then a chairlift and had a go on the luge, which was fun but I was overtaken by loads of kids who whizzed down the track like little Evel Kneivels. I did the Skyline walk and looked at Ben Lomond, then had a pot of green tea and waited for the inevitable. I was really nervous, unlike the skydiving the day before. I think the difference is that I had always wanted to jump out of a plane and it was easy when you're attached to someone as you know they're not going to risk their life and they make the decision for you as to when you go. In a bungy jump, it's you who does the leaping and you who makes the choice as to when to go. This jump was 47 metres, but the platform was stuck out 400 metres above the town and so it felt like a lot higher. I checked in and got my weight written on my hand in big red letters - I felt like a real heifer - and then I wandered down to watch the people before me jump. This turned out to be a mistake as there was a Chinese girl who was even more scared than me who couldn't bring herself to do it. They kept counting her down "3, 2, 1... go!" and each time she'd run to the edge and then just when her toes were over the boards, she'd stop dead and go back. This happened again and again until finally, she ran, stopped, then sort of fell off the edge. I was not comforted. I walked onto the little hut on the platform and got put in a harness and clipped onto the rope, then ended up just talking for about 10 minutes, asking questions and trying to psyche myself up. You can see a DVD of yourself afterwards and while most people's last for about 3 minutes, mine went on for a good 10 or 15, with me standing there gabbling on and on. The crew got pretty bored eventually and one even had a nap on the settee as I clutched a cord hanging from the ceiling for dear life and held up the people behind me. Eventually, it was now or never, so the guy counted me down and I leapt out into thin air. The swan dive I was aiming for didn't really materialise and - unlike skydiving - I screamed the whole was down and during all the bounces. It was an amazing feeling but over very quickly and then you're left dangling there above the tree tops. You have to clip the rope they lower you to your harness so that you can be winched up and you're meant to lean right back and move your arms out of the way, but I clung on and couldn't let go to the main rope. The bit just before I climbed back onto the platform, where I was hanging there was almost as bad as the jumping itself. I'm glad I did it - facing my fear and all that - but don't think it's something I'll be signing up for again any time soon...