Up, up and away!

I completed another of my 40 before forty list last week and fulfilled a childhood dream in the process: I went up in a hot air balloon.

Shane bought the balloon vouchers for me for Christmas last year, and after redeeming the vouchers with Wickers World we had repeatedly tried to book evening flights, but each time they were cancelled because of unsuitable conditions. It turns out that hot air balloons need surface wind speeds at or below 8mph to be able to safely take off and land! However, we finally managed to get the go ahead on an early (so early) morning flight from Alderford Lake, near Whitchurch.

We arrived shortly before the Wickers World team but as soon as they got on site in their two Landrovers, they started ‘assembling’ the balloon. I’d never seen a balloon on the ground before so wasn’t sure what this would be like, and I’ll be honest, I was not expecting it to come flat packed on the back of a trailer:

It didn’t take very long for them to get everything into position, and before long they were inflating the balloon with two massive portable fans:

Soon they started using the burner too, and the balloon started to rise, which caused the basket to tip upright. At this point we were allowed to climb into the balloon (Shane, myself, the pilot and other passengers) and we soon took off!

I was expecting to feel some degree of pull or turbulence as we took off and in the air, but it was incredibly smooth. The pilot, Jon, said that this is because hot air balloons travel with the wind rather than through or against it (or words to that effect). However, it’s also because they travel with the wind that means you can’t actually steer a hot air balloon; your flight path is entirely dictated by the direction of the wind on any given day.

Once we were in the air, the two remaining chaps on the team followed on the ground in the Landrovers, ready to pick us up when we landed.

In the air, the views were incredible. It was such a clear day that we could see as far as Liverpool in one direction, and the Welsh mountains in another. I took various photos but don’t think they do the view or the experience justice.

During our time in the air, a lady on the flight released hundreds of flower petals with baby’s names on that had been sponsored in aid of Tommy’s charity. The lady mentioned that her daughter would have been 10 earlier in the month (I hope I’m remembering that right!) which of course set me off crying.

To be fair, there’s not a lot I don’t cry at these days (thanks perimenopause).

Not long after that it was time to land again. Our pilot scouted for a suitable field to bring the balloon down in, i.e. away from power lines and animals that might scare easily, had dry ground (not difficult given the ongoing UK heatwaves), easily accessible from the road, and so on. Once he’d spotted a field and made his surprisingly smooth landing, the two chaps that had been following us in the Landrovers got permission from the farmer to decamp; he said yes, but apparently if he’d have said no we would have taken off again, which made me wonder how many times that happens!

Once that was all sorted we set about helping to deflate, fold and re-pack the balloon, which took the whole team. I can’t show you the photos I took at this stage because they’ve got other people’s kids in, but suffice it to say I was glad the field (and accompanying cow pats) were dry!

It was a beautiful morning and I had such a great time. Only problem is, now I want to do it again…