Due to the holiday madness, I neglected to tell you a thing about my glorious time spent in Macau. Other than a cold front that made it quite deceivingly chilly (the eternal sunshine and fact that we were in China would have you think otherwise), it was a great week, with some awesome people. After turning around and traveling 60 hours from Israel, a trip that was less than satisfying, I was weary and, for once, jaded with travel. I never wanted to see the inside of an airplane again. I was ready to hole up under my covers in San Francisco and not come out for six months. I was rethinking my chosen career path. However, I was meeting up with my good pal Joao, who organized the visit so in theory, I knew I had nothing to worry about.

Ever since Joao and I went to Rio together two years ago, I was quite aware that one day I would be destined to jump off the Macau Tower with him. There was just no way I was getting out of that. He’s done it more than 15 times, after all. Besides, I talk a big game (that I often back up, true, though my heart is pounding in my throat more than I let on), and when you talk a big game, you’re often made to do things you might not on your own accord.

>Case in point: I’m terrified here and pretty close to wetting my pants (though I blame that more on the fact that the harness was pressing on my bladder in all the wrong spots). But it IS the highest sky jump in the world—coming in at 700 feet—and how often do you get the chance to tackle it? If you recall, I’d taken a stroll around the second highest sky tower in Auckland previously that year, but was saving my death jump for Macau.

Just look at the shadow cast by that bad boy, will ya? Not the least bit intimidating, eh? Possibly the worst/only bad part of the experience was the anticipation. Joao and I were outfitted in these snazzy jumpsuits—tell me I don’t remind you of a character right out of The Royal Tenenbaums—and then led to the tower platform. And then we waited. And waited some more. And started doing the bathroom dance thanks to the harness, as we rethought our plight. And my hair got whipped around in a frenzy. Because, friends, I thought it was cold down at the bottom? Well the bottom had nothing on the frigid temps 700 feet above. But sissy celebs like Charlize Theron and Jay-Z had walked this path before, and I was not about to let them one-up me. I’m all about the competition, always.

And then finally after probably half an hour of waiting, it was our turn. Being the gentleman that he is, Joao let me go first. And let me tell you, it was a looooong way down, but the view wasn’t too shabby. One of the benefits of doing a sky jump (where you’re more or less being dropped down feet first) than a bungy is that you actually get to soak in the scenery a bit (albeit in under 30 seconds).

One, two, three … here goes!

Taking that initial leap was the terrifying part. But one I was free-floating, I was able to enjoy the sprawling city around me.

Would I do it again? Hell yeah. Would I take a few tequila shots first in preparation? Without a doubt.

*All photos courtesy of AJ Hackett Macau Tower and my dear friend Aly Walansky.