Drifting – in Black and White

5 am is an early start. It’s dark, quiet and there is a distinct nip in the air.
I help myself to coffee (a great distraction when one is nervous) The mug nestled in my hands is warm and somehow its contents, reassuring.
I stand back to survey the room and its occupants. Everyone appears nervous, pretending not to be, myself included.
And the feeling is justified as we are all about to embark on one of those ‘once in a life time, bucket list’ kind of things.

Someone gives a signal and we filter through a garden and down a dirt road to find ourselves standing at the top of a large sloped field. It’s just getting light and the sky has a soft pink blush to it.

At the top of the field, are two huge rectangular wicker baskets lying on their sides.  And as we watch with a mixed sense of interest and anticipation, the two balloons are prepped for flight.

The balloon envelope has been filled with hot air and the basket righted, we climb in and get briefed by our pilot, Eddie (from Air to air Africa). After removing our anchors and a liberal application of gas we gently lift off. Besides the sporadic noise of the gas burner, the basket is quiet; the fidgeting and nervous chatter has stopped. The magic of the moment seems to have captured everyone.

Bit by bit we gain height which allows for a good view of the scenery. Sadly it wasn’t a crystal clear day, as I would have liked to have seen forever, but instead focused my attention downwards on the mist rising off the dams. The Crocodile River diminishing below us, its banks peppered with willow and poplar trees.

I spent most of the flight with elbows resting on the edge of the basket, watching the world pass by below. Imagining the occupants of the houses, most of them probably still curled up snug in bed. Or cursing us and the noise we make, which starts their dogs frantically barking at 6 am.
(This I know from experience as we lived along a stretch of the Crocodile River when I was a kid. We used to get woken up begrudgingly early on weekend mornings by the hiss of the balloons and the yowling of our Alsatians)

Its amazing how different things look from the air, a bit like seeing things upside down, a fresh perspective is guaranteed.

About half way through the flight we grounded Lanseria Airport (Which I thought was pretty darn cool) as we moseyed on over their runway. Besides height, you cannot control a balloon, and so (quite obviously) get special treatment when it comes to other aircraft with powered flight.

Our landing was superb; Eddie put the balloon down effortlessly in a large empty field. And we all hopped out the basket and onto firm ground. It’s both quite a relief and at the same time an anti-climax, once you’re up there you wish you could fly forever.

While the balloon was deflating, I saw a bunch of local kids at the edge of the field, watching the collapse of the balloon with great interest. As I moved closer to them I took a few quick snap shots.

I was not at that time (and to be quite honest, I’m still not) a confident people photographer. I think it comes from being very camera shy myself, I don’t feel I have the right to impose upon another person’s space. So I went up to them, to show them the images I had snapped, and although a serious language barrier stopped us from conversing, I was met with giggles of delight as I showed them the photos (I don’t think they had ever had their picture taken). This started a procession of poses as each one wanted their pic taken, rushing back to the camera as soon I had clicked to see the outcome. Pointing and laughing and running back for another pic. My camera ended up with sticky finger prints all over it, but I didn’t mind, I was smiling like a goof at the happiness and antics of these five kids. It turns out; you don’t always need words to communicate.

By the time we had finished our celebratory Champagne, the chase vehicle had reached us, the balloon was packed up, basket loaded onto a trailer and we traveled back to our vehicles. Then on to a scrumptious buffet breakfast, overlooking the pool, at Heia Safari Ranch.

It was truly a memorable experience. There is nothing quite like drifting in a balloon. And all I can say to those who haven’t yet been up in a balloon is:

Save your money, hope for a beautiful day, and DO IT!