The London Eye...

...is the scariest thing I've ever done voluntarily. I was so scared I spent long periods of time gripping the bench and looking no further than my knees. At the very top, I had to look at the farthest point of horizon to avoid any visual reminder that we were at the top of an enormous wheel with nothing beneath us. My heart's beating a bit faster, just writing this.

I did predict that I'd be scared, but booked the tickets anyway before I'd had a chance to think about it enough to talk myself out of it. Someone assured me that a vertigo-suffering relative hadn't been scared, and, even standing at the bottom of the enormous wheel and looking up, I was still OK. But once we were in the capsule, with the door closed, and the water beneath us, it became rapidly clear that I was going to spend most of the next half hour terrified.

smiorgan wants to go, and before I'd done it, I promised I'd go back with him. Part of me thinks there's no way I could do it again, and part of me, typically perverse, is determined to do it again to spite my phobia. Maybe next time would be better. It could hardly be worse.