Ali Paton has her head in the clouds as she floats dreamily through the sky in a hot air balloon.
For a while now I’ve been mad keen to wiggle myself into a wicker basket and float up, up and away in a hot air balloon. My first attempt at organising a scenic adventure through the clouds was a couple of summers ago during a family holiday in London, Ontario. My romantic dream of drifting up into the sky for a champagne breakfast was brought straight back down to earth by an evil weather forecaster. At 5am on the second last day of my vacation, I found myself answering the phone to the balloon company trying to sound as understanding as possible given my disappointment and the early hour.
What I really wanted to do was scream: “The last time my body was up at this ungodly hour was at the end of a good night out! For goodness sake it’s only a bit of wind, why can’t we fly? I go home tomorrow. If I don’t fly today I won’t fly at all. I want my champagne!” But then I do get a bit prickly when my sleep has been interrupted for no good reason. With nothing more to show for my early rise than a debit and credit on my Visa statement, I returned to the UK even more determined to enjoy the magic of a balloon ride.
As luck would have it, while researching some extreme sports on the internet I chanced upon a link to Scotair. Based just outside Biggar, Scotair have been making dreams come true for ballooning enthusiast for 12 years. As one of only two firms based in Scotland which has a commercial licence to take clients on journeys through the clouds, I called to book a trip without once thinking about how early I might have to drag myself out of bed.
Indeed, on further investigation into the sport it would appear that ample sleep is not one of the perks balloon aficionados, like pilot Graeme Houston, get to enjoy. During the summer months when business is good he flies almost every day which entails gathering weather forecasts by 5am in preparation for the 6.30am flight. He also has to pack the balloon up and drive it back to base at 1am after the evening flight at 9.30pm.
Many people would baulk at the working hours, but Houston loves his job. Each trip is different; different weather conditions to consider, different passengers, which means different baskets depending on who’s flying.
The first basket he pulled out of the trailer was lucky if it measured 1.5 metres by 1m and this was the five-person basket. And let’s not forget about the two huge tanks of propane gas that are placed in the corners of the basket.
I was surprised at how small the basket was, given that it was tight for space and there were only two of us in it. However, the lack of room is not because balloonists are stingy with their space. The reason why passengers are encouraged to enjoy an intimate trip is in the event of a bumpy landing. If you experience a little turbulence, but are packed in like sardines, there is far less chance of you falling on a fellow passenger, crashing into a gas canister or, worst still, giving a black eye to the very person you are supposed to be enjoying a romantic moment with.
At the back of the trailer, snuggled in the corner was the cutest one-man basket which did not look bigger than the laundry basket I have at home. But when I enquired about it’s health, Houston explained that “it doesn’t get out much”.
As a man who definitely enjoys the chat, Houston is not a big fan of riding solo. “That’s for people with no mates”, he said.
And he struck me as someone who has plenty of mates, which might explain the huge 19-person basket he keeps at Shieldhill Castle, one of the locations Scotair use to take off from. When I cast my eye over this baby it seemed impossible that it could get off the ground empty, never mind packed with 19 riders.
Which brings me to the balloons that majestically and effortlessly sweep these old fashioned people carriers up off the ground. They can only be described as awesome. The partner to the five man basket, which was the biggest balloon I was shown, was 80ft tall and 65ft wide.
It’s two trusty helpers, Ian and Rachel, to hang onto the crown rope, the whole time skidding about in the snow, as the balloon was filled and reared up into life right before our eyes.
Helping to blow it up was a treat in itself. Once fully inflated it held three tonnes of air.
As for the trip itself, for once there’s no point in me harping on about what happened when you can just as easily experience it for yourself. Just remember in 1783 a sheep, duck and rooster made the first balloon flight thanks to the Montgolfier brothers.
Two hundred and twenty years later and we are still as intrigued and delighted by the same experience. Hot air ballooning should be included on everyone’s life “to do” list, regardless of what time you like to get up in the morning.
