Hang gliding in Rio de Janeiro

I was relieved to see my hang gliding instructor, Mauro, had a generous sprinkling of grey hairs on his head. I wasn’t about to put my life in the hands of a wet-behind-the-ears cowboy. “Trust me, Emma,” he insisted as I took in the view of Rio de Janeiro 520 metres below. Stunning it was, but so was the sheer drop from the end of the ramp I was expected to run off.

You can hang glide in Rio all year round. Tandem flights launch from a mountain in Pedra Bonita valley to the southwest of Rio de Janeiro and you land, usually seven to 15 minutes later, on Sao Conrado beach, beyond the skyscrapers straight ahead. Weather conditions are crucial to a successful flight - you need a moderate headwind to get a good lift off.

The wind was coming from behind us, exactly the opposite direction to the one required. Seasoned instructors careered wildly between pursing their lips and nodding their heads optimistically. Tied up in an odd, front-only, sack-like pouch I watched four hang gliders run off the ramp in two hours. In good conditions they can go every 60 seconds.

My safety talk included a practice run off an imaginary ramp, instructions on where to put my hands and a booklet that I’m ashamed to admit I read less than thoroughly. Reading it now, I learn that, “Your instructor is the supreme commander of the aircraft, you will stay at his side as a companion/apprentice, but you have the right to questions when you think he is putting you in unnecessary risk.” Define “unnecessary risk”, please…

I was second in the queue and had been tethered to Mauro and the glider for 30 minutes when the instructor in front of me gave up. Mauro wasn’t so easily put off by the seemingly adverse conditions and we took our place at the top of the ramp. Anxiously watching the wind sock fluttering out to sea, we waited for the wind to change direction. A few seconds of headwind was all we needed. Thrice we got ready to go and thrice we stood down. The tension was unbearable and building.

I had time to thoroughly contemplate the six emotional stages of hang gliding: excitement, apprehension, heart-thumping fear, impatience, anxiety that it wouldn’t actually happen, to a wild disregard for my life – just run, whatever the wind direction. Fortunately for me, Mauro knew his stuff and the fourth time we took our positions was the last time, despite other instructors starting to pack up their gear.

I was so relieved to get my turn that I have no recollection of what take off felt like. I’d waited for so long I forgot to be nervous. I’ve been told by those behind me that it was a perfect launch – no stomach-churning dip down after the edge of the ramp, just a smooth flight off the mountainside. Still, trauma does strange things to the memory.

Once in the air, the wind was strong and we soared over the jungle below. Rio is best viewed from above and whilst the city provides many excellent view points (Christ the Redeemer and Sugar Loaf Mountain to name a couple), the birds-eye view a hang glider affords has got to be the best.

We flew over the tree tops of the world’s biggest urban national park, Tijuca, Rio’s largest favela, Rocinha, home to 300,000 people, above the skyscrapers and hotels lining Sao Conrado beach, over a manicured golf course with blob-shaped bunkers, above the heads of surfers and over crashing waves. Further out to sea, rain was falling over islands protruding rudely from the ocean. Birds of prey with white-tipped wings flew above, below and around us. Looking back I saw three, four, five more hang gliders take advantage of the window in the weather and a helicopter clattered past.

“You like speed, Emma?” Mauro asked, pushing the bar out and ramping the experience up by a fair few knots before I had a chance to reply. I like speed! And I like hang gliding. I like it more than bungee jumping and parachuting. It’s more natural, the closest you can get to flying like a bird. No engines, no attachment to a stationary object; just me, Mauro and a large triangle of fabric.

Landing was easy. Mauro went for a “motion” landing, meaning we circled and swooped onto the beach and landed feet first. No face plant for this first-time glider. And best of all, the flight lasted 20 minutes, which made every second of the nerve-wracking wait worthwhile.

I arranged my hang gliding experience through my hotel, Ipanema Beach House (R$220, which included transport to and from the ramp, plus R$60 for photographs – check your CD works before you leave Rio; mine didn’t and I had to have them emailed to me). Most Rio de Janeiro hotels will arrange the experience for you. You can also organise hang gliding through Rio Turismo Radical.