Well and truly grounded.
I think I may be cursed. Despite having a keen sense of adventure and love of discovery, the Gods of hot air-related flight clearly think I’m not all that.
For Christmas, my lovely lady bought me the gift of flight. To be precise, a hot air balloon flight as dawn breaks over a South African nature reserve. Two days of 4am wake-up calls to be told that it was too windy before a refund was given and we returned to Blighty. Shortly after, I spot that the Bristol Balloon Fiesta is taking place so after convincing my boss that it was worth a shot, I set my alarm for stupid o’clock and headed down for my journey to the clouds. After spending two hours shooting them as the sun came up, the word went round that all flights were cancelled for the day. It seemed that the totally still and calm blue sky above my head was in fact a gusting blowing torrent of death and destruction, hungry for fresh balloons to chew up.
Fast forward to this morning and after shooting a tear-inducingly funny photo-call for Hamleys toy store’s Christmas range where much fun was had with a Dalek’s head, I get the call to let me know that my luck is in. It’s fly time.
A new company is launching pleasure flights in a zeppelin over London and I have a £360 ticket to spend the afternoon cruising over the Capital. Rushing to the collection point, I get off the train to find that due to the whirling hurricane of death that seems to follow me whenever I’m near air-filled transports, the flight is cancelled.
Later in the day I get a call offering a trip tomorrow but as I’m the only shooter in town, I can’t give up so much time during the day. I’m reaching the conclusion that these teasing promises are the closest I’ll ever get to hot air..
I saw the Zeppelin in London town while I had the day-off the other day. It was winging its way over the Globe (theatre, not the planet per se, although the latter is indeed true too…) at a rate of knots, and looked quite kool. Then I saw the price for a half-hour flight, and almost fell in the Thames.
No doubt you will have your day.
Boy, you are so grounded..
That first shot is spectacular!
I was lucky enough to be taken on a balloon ride over the Masai Mara in Kenya, back in ’90. It really was the most peaceful thing, just gliding over the earth with nothing but the creeking of ropes and wicker to accompany you. Watching a herd of zebra whirl across the dusty ground below you like starlings over Brighton’s pier is quite something.
I’m sure you’ll get your chance, hang in there!
I’m not going to say anything apart from… ..Tuesday.
*crosses every piece of DNA*
*somehow grows extra limb*
I did the hot air balloon thing at the International balloon fiesta in New Mexico when i was a kid. it was fun and all, but why do you have to do it so ridiculously early in the morning? I’ve never understood that.
Although, even as a child, watching the sun come up from a balloon is quite interesting an experience.