Two years ago (in July) my mother gave me a birthday present of a balloon trip for Virgin Balloons. I never seemed to get around to using it that first summer. Last summer after a couple of abortive attempts in June and July they kindly extended it for a further year - the backlog last summer was tremendous. So finally this year with the deadline approaching I booked it for early May, and then having had that cancelled again, for May 20th.
Monday evening at 11pm I made my call to the flightline to check the flight status. Having made the call three times previously I was by no means certain of the flight going ahead as even on seemingly fine days flights get cancelled due to wind - direction or speed that is, not the condition of the pilot. Other than a move of the launch from Farnham to Guildford (I later learned this was due to complaints about the early morning noise) the recorded message provide a thumbs up for the launch and I was able to (relatively) happily set my alarm clock for 5am.
The morning dawned (just about) cold and bright and I set off for the 20 minute drive to Guildford where the flight was scheduled to depart from a field by the side of Tesco's. I arrived and parked the car just as the balloon was arriving on the back of the trailer with the pilot and support team of two. My fellow passengers arrived - mostly groups of two - and watched the early proceedings as the basket and balloon were offloaded onto the dewy grass. The formalities of name checking were quickly dispensed with and we all moved over to meet the pilot (Mark Shemilt), get a pre-flight briefing and get assigned various tasks. The balloon was unpacked and stretched out, the basket laid on it's side and the two attached together. There was no such thing as a free breakfast on this flight and I was quickly assigned to a team of 5 that was dispatched to hold on to the rope at the top of the balloon as it was inflated and ensure that it did not turn in the breeze - which was light and towards the East. The fans were turned on to an explosion of noise and the balloon began to fill with cold air. We pulled hard on the rope as it tried to turn itself and began to realise why there were 5 of us. As the balloon reached about 2/3 full they turned on the burners and the noise immediatly doubled - I began to realise why the residents in Farnham objected. The balloon began to fill up and our team slowly moved back on the rope less we be pulled up with the crown as it rose. Eventually the balloon pulled itself free of the grass and sat above the basket that was still firmly anchored to the car. We were all called in for boarding.
The fourteen passengers clambering into the basket - which consisted of five sections - a central one for the pilot and 1 on each corner for up to 4 people each. We were first instructed on the brace positions that we should assume for landing and given a couple of other pointers. Then the time came and with the burners lit we began to acquire lift - I glanced nervously at the surrounding trees and pictured us gliding serenely into them. However my nervousness was unjustified, as Mark waited until we had sufficient lift before releasing the cable at which point we shot skyward in a rapid fashion.
Very quickly we were several hundred feet into the air and looking over the Surrey countryside - in the distance to the North I could make out Heathrow and the massive T5 structure. We tracked pretty much East along the A31 and followed the Hogs Back towards Farnham, our serenely quiet passage broken only by the noise of traffic below us and the occassional burst of the burners. A camera was dispatched on a sling in order to take a photo and although we all posed unfortunately there was a problem with the batteries - so no photo to prove I was there. We drifted on at the whim of mother nature, crossing the A31 and it's accompanying noise until we were drifting over an endless expanse of countryside, dotted with equally expansive country estates - I had never really realised just how many swimming pools and tennis courts existed. We passed over what appeared to be a private golf course, a heard of deer and even a couple of startled ostriches, I kid you not. On and on we drifted - passing to the South of Farnham, captivated by the beauty and quietness of the early morning - it was still only around 7:30 - and the low mist blanketed the landscape in the distance. The silence ocassionally broken by either the burners or Marks radio, giving updates on our progress to the tracking support team or briefly communicating with Farnborough control tower.
Finally just North of Alton we began our descent. Initiall Mark was heading for a field to the North of the A31 but we began to drift across and he gave up this target in favour of a field on the other side of the road, across the railway line and a small brook. We were asked to assume positions for landing and we all nervously sat down and peered through the tiny gaps in the wicker, attempting to mentally countdown the moments to impact. When it finally came it was far gentler than many of us expected. We were on a slight incline and I suspect that this helped to stop any drag. We all stood up inspected our surroundings while Mark kept the balloon fully inflated and alerted the support team to our grid-reference for retrieval. One of our number was sent up to the end of the field to check for an open gate and any sign of landowners. Mark had already told us that this field (I suspect he knew many fields) was not known as a ballon friendly field and that despite the absence of a crop a landing fee would probably be payable rather than a profered bottle of champagne. We were finally asked to disembark and we all clambered out into the long wet grass of the landing site - oh the indignity of it - where was the arrivals lounge. Then it was on with the task of stowing the balloon which was quickly deflated and rolled into a long sausage shape. We stood around in a satisfied circle while Mark opened up the Champagne and I found myself in the curious situation of sipping champagne at eight o'clock in the morning in the middle of a wet Hampshire field drinking champagne from metal goblets with 14 total strangers.
A couple appeared at the top of the hill and Mark, assuming they were the landowners, went off to negotiate a landing fee - lest the balloon be held for ransom. While he was away the support team arrived and began the process of packing up. The most interesting part of this process was squeezing the balloon back into the bag (which was about 5ft cubed) - with some air still in it and unable to escape someone suggested it was like fighting Mr Blobby.
With Mark back with us, landing fees paid, were ready to depart. This caused a slight added complication as the teams mini-bus had, allegedly, packed up the previous day. Four of us had departed immediatly the support team arrived on the basis that they would do two trips with the rest of us in the 4x4. However a quick check identified that the original four were only half way back to the launch-site and if they waited for it's return they would be there all day. Against all Health and Safety concerns Mark let three of the group onto the back of the trailer so that they could be ferried back in the basket.
The trip back in rush-hour traffic took almost as long as our one hour journey West but by around 9:30am we were pulling back into the car park at Guildford Tesco and being presented with our certificates (signed by SRB - oh yeah sure). All in all a throughly enjoyable experience and despite the delays one that I would recommend to all.
FM
