Up, up and away

Wow. That's all I can say. After last month's disappointing trip round Canterbury with a hot air balloon trying to take off only to be foiled by wind, today we got up. And it was so fantastic. I cannot recommend it strongly enough. It's such a shame that the photos I took really don't do it justice. It was just so calm up there, and peaceful. Just floating around in the wind, not knowing where we're going to end up. Quite an experience.

I woke at 4:30am and phoned the ballooning hotline to know whether we were going ahead. The weather forecast for today was mixed and so, going to bed, I was unsure what the message would say. It was quite exciting to hear the words "the flight is going ahead". An hour later we were parked up in the dark in the carpark of a suburban mall. It still felt very clandestine.

A further hour later we were at Darfield helping the pilot and ground crew unwrap the balloon (the technical term is 'envelope', you know) and inflate it. Less than an hour later and we were lifting off, rising above the tree-tops, the ground getting further and further away, heading up towards the clouds. We stopped ascending at around five thousand feet. The view was just spectacular. It would have been awesome if there had been no clouds and everything had been in plain view but it also made it more special when light broke through the clouds in places highlighting patch of the plains or a snow-capped mountain top.


An hour later and we were skipping over rooftops, knocking through treetops before we came down to earth in the middle of a field with a bump. The landing I didn't enjoy. Not the best part of the flight. But I'd go through the landing again to have the flight again. We'd travelled about 60km, I think.

We all chipped in to help put away the basket and envelope and then the champagne was dished out. The pilot related a story telling how the post-balloon flight champagne tradition came about. If he's to believed it is to do with the Montgolfier brothers and them wanting to prove they were actually French when landing in their early balloons in the French countryside to stop farmers attacking them with pitchforks. Supposedly.

If you get the chance, do this. Despite the very unsociable morning it was so worthwhile. I wish you'd all been there.