Hope on a rope: Dolly Dhingra on the great Wandsworth flyover

Backpackers, campers and cyclists use elasticated pieces of rope with metal hooks at either end to tie or secure their equipment. These are called bungees. Bungee jumping is an activity which appeals to adrenalin junkies who are not so easily identifiable. It involves jumping from a great height attached to such ropes. People have leapt from buildings, air balloons, bridges and the sides of gorges. One man did his jump sitting on a bicycle.

The Sports Council do not recognise the activity as a sport, explaining that although a lot of courage is involved, no actual skill is needed. For a safety recommendation they suggested I contact the British Elastic Rope Sports Association (BERSA) - there's a world out there waiting to be discovered.

Euro Bungee boast a 100 per cent safety record and happened to be organising jumps locally. Burger King had asked them to do their next television commercial. If it was good enough for Burger King it was good enough for me.

Their information pack contains a certificate which is awarded on completion of a jump. It certifies that 'in a brief moment of extreme bravado (the jumper) lost their sense of responsibility towards life by throwing themselves from a platform 180 ft above the ground. When they launched themselves into space, their only touch with reality was a rubber band attached at the ankle.' The day arrives. A grey windy Saturday in Wandsworth, south London and a stretch of depressing wasteland by the river. In the middle stands a large yellow crane with a small lift running up and down the side.

The first person I saw dropping from the sky was a 66-year-old pensioner. Also present were a group of fundraisers for the Ealing Samaritans. I wondered how many Samaritans had recieved calls from worried parents of jumpers.

There was little time to think - health forms had to be completed and a brief safety talk had to be taken in. Harnessed to three ropes with a range of karabiners and clips, I was checked over by three men who had obviously worked in the Forces. I got into the lift.

On our journey heavenwards the photographer suggested I jump out backwards enabling him to capture my expression. I was told to stand at the edge of the lift holding a horizontal iron bar, lean out as far back as my straightened arms would allow and on the third blow of the instructor's whistle flick my head back and let go. Simple.

I let go. Gently arching 180 degrees backwards I plummeted downwards, passing the horizon of London at about 50mph in what felt like a bubble of tranquility. Heart pounding in my ears I bounced upside down several times. Completely discombobulated I was lowered down. Immediately the photographer came over and asked me to do another jump, perhaps head first this time. He'd stay on the ground, it would give more variety with the pictures. Grinning inanely, I agreed.

Up again, three whistles and I was off. Backward dives were obviously for wimps. I was going head first into the ground. The first bounce and I was smoothly suspended in mid-air, defying gravity for a split second. It was a moment of complete weightlessness. Paradise. And the nearest I'd come to a religious experience.

Laughing uncontrollably, with tears in my eyes, I was lowered on to the mat. The instructor took one look at me and said I was experiencing 'post-bungee euphoria'. It lasted over an hour. Sex? It doesn't even come close.

Eurobungee, London SW6, compulsory annual membership pounds 14.50, pounds 25 per jump (071-384 1666)

Also: Extreme Sensations, N Yorks (0748 826324); Oxford Stunt Factory (0865 750846); Dangerous Sports Club, Somerset (0278 652218); UK Bungee Club, Cheshire (0625 859757); BERSA (0865 311179)

(Photograph omitted)