“Don’t look down if you start to feel funny” I said to my sister.  Like her, I don’t like heights.  I don’t mind standing on the top of mountains when I’ve got 3000 feet of solid rock beneath me, but you won’t get me higher than the fourth rung of a ladder.  So why am I at an altitude of 2000 feet, with only a thin wicker basket separating me from the 2000 feet of nothingness between me and Planet Earth?

            The answer, is at the mercy of the winds, which is one of the beauties about Hot Air Ballooning.  This is a family treat, our first ever flight.   I’m surprised by how calm I feel.  My earlier nerves have now dissipated.  Before take off my stomach was as taut as one of those ropes keeping the balloon from taking off.  From the air, the countryside takes on a different perspective. Flying across the densely populated South East of England dispels the myth that between Oxford and Dover all you can find is concrete. The scene is so green and lush, the air is sweet.

            Preparation for my maiden flight began at five o’clock on this warm, summers evening.  Hot Air Balloon flights generally take place in the early morning or evening as this is when the weather is at it’s calmest.  Our pilot says that this is when the temperature of the land is similar to that of the air, reducing the risk of abnormal winds.  I am one of thirteen taking to the skies.  The youngest is about eight, the oldest is celebrating an important birthday.  The only age barriers to ballooning is the basket.  Very young children are discouraged because of the temptation to climb the basket walls during the flight.  Elderly people are discouraged if they may have difficulty getting in and out of the basket.

            The first job is to unpack the balloon.  When out of its holdall it stretches like a long millipede across the field.  We are asked to fan out the sides, pulling it into the shape of a balloon.  Only then can it be inflated, which surprisingly, I discovered is done with cold air to begin with.  Whilst the neck of the balloon is being held open, huge fans force air inside giving the balloon its volume.  “Those fans are really powerful” said my mother after helping to inflate the balloon.  Only when it is two thirds full, are the burners ignited and the air inside heated.

            The time taken from unpacking the balloon to having between 180,000 and 250,000 cubic feet of hot air hovering above us takes just twenty minutes.  As the balloon begins to tug, we climb into the basket as it flips into its upright position.  The pilot makes his safety checks, and then he asks if we are ready.  I think I am.

            Effortlessly gliding upwards to find a breeze to take us across country, we slowly, smoothly, gently and calmly ascend into the sky.  This is magical, so serene and beautiful.  The pilot has limited control over the balloon.  By altering the temperature of the air inside the balloon, altitude is controlled, and by opening and closing flaps in the balloon, the basket rotates.  Mother Nature though, is in control over our direction of travel.

            It is no colder in the air than it is on the ground.  This is partly due to the burners emitting a fierce heat.  The hats we’d been advised to wear protect us from this though.  But when the burners are off, all is tranquil and quiet as we float over the English countryside.  And what a different perspective this is.  High enough to be looking down on flying birds, but low enough to make out detail.  Detail such as paths, tracks and ancient field boundaries.  It is easy to see how some villages have grown along key roads.  From 2000 feet it all seems like a model village, with cars moving along small country roads, cattle grazing in fields and cricket being played in the summers evening.  I can even hear the cricket bat hitting the ball.

            The hours flight is almost over and the pilot begins to look for somewhere to land,  by scrutinising his OS map.  This is covered in several different pen drawn patterns, each illustrating a land owners attitude to balloons.  Most are happy for recovery teams to enter their land to retrieve the balloon, although some are not.  Balloon companies occasionally offer to make a donation to the land owners favourite charity as a gesture of goodwill.

            The pilot identifies a field and gradually reduces the altitude.  We are advised to adopt our landing positions, crouch down in the basket, and the pilot skilfully lands with a gentle bump.  There’s no relief because there is nothing to be relieved about.  With the flight over, the hard work begins again as we tussle with the balloon to bring it to the ground and then crawl on top of it, pushing all the air out.  Folding it up into its millipede shape again, it is rolled back into its holdall for next time.   My mother summed up the whole trip.  “That was heaven.”

THE NEXT STEP

There are several companies operating across the UK that offer balloon flights.  Look in your local Yellow Pages under Hot Air Balloons for further details.  Expect to pay around £130 per person, although discounts are available for large group bookings.  Ballooning is dependent on the weather, so expect to have your flight cancelled a couple of times before you actually go!  Most companies have no objections to friends and family ‘chasing’ the balloon from the ground.