Fairytale flight
The ball rose higher and higher and we slowly floated in the rays of the dawn sun. Tea plantations were visible on the slopes below, distant and inviting mountains fringing the horizon through the dawn haze. The heat from the burner pleasantly warmed and protected from the morning cold. Now it is difficult to describe the feeling of delight that overwhelmed me at that moment. Flying in a hot air balloon feels like some kind of fairy-tale action, it is a slow and meditative soaring in the air, catching air currents and smoothly moving forward, accompanied by intermittent flaring of the burner that breaks the silence, easily introducing an inexperienced and sleepy aeronaut into a deceptive and pleasant state, as if dreaming. in reality. You feel like Alice, but not the one that fell into the hole, but the one that flew high up, clinging to the Cheshire cat, swollen to an incredible size 🙂
The balloon is controllable and even very. They usually fly on it at dawn, because at this time there are no ascending vertical air currents that can interfere with the flight. By controlling the burner and the valve in the balloon, the pilot can easily lift it up and down. At different heights, the direction and strength of the wind changes, and the pilot, changing the vertical position of the balloon, can catch the air flow he needs and direct the balloon in the required direction. It’s kind of like sailing a ship. Maybe that’s why ballooning is called aeronautics?)
Thanks to Louis the Sixteenth, aeronauts have an old tradition, according to which a person who has flown for the first time is ordained as aeronauts and given the title of count. And also, the “counts of aeronautics” own the land over which they fly. True, only at the time of flight, for that it is aeronautics.
They sat in a hazel tree. We flew over someone’s tree plantations and finding a more or less suitable place, the captain went to land. The ball, hitting a couple of trees with a basket, landed on a small area right in the middle of this hazel. We held on tightly to the edges of the basket, but from a sharp blow to the ground we almost fell. All the magic of flying disappeared somewhere, but the adventure did not end. The huge dome hung eerily over us when we climbed out of the basket, leaving the captain in it, as it was necessary to move the ball to another place so that it could be deflated and properly folded. We grabbed a long rope and dragged the balloon that had taken off into a larger clearing, where it was supposed to land. It was not easy, but fun, the ball rested, but reluctantly succumbed to our pressure.
