Balloon Adventures!

Bruh! (As my daughter likes to say). Time to get verticle. Time to soar into the heavens. To let the wind push us through the clouds. 

The 3 am wake-up call is a little rough, not gonna lie. I’m the only one in my group going so I’m just a tad nervous. My driver and I arrive at a midway point where a slew of vans are all ferrying balloon riders to a set meeting point. Once there, we’re hurried into boats for a short ride across the Nile. We’re offered tea and coffee which is nice. I’m with a group of Dutch, but then told to go with another group from Spain. 

Once across the river it’s into another van for a quick ride to the ballon site. I’m passed off to a new group of Germans who are all chain smoking and look hung over. 

We wait for the okay from some balloon officials, perhaps for the wind conditions to be just right. Then a horn rings out, and a series of fans crank up and begin filling up the massive balloons. 

I’m shoved from the German group to a new group, which seems like a mixture of countries. Then the fires start blazing and several balloons lift off. 

We’re in a group of 24. 12 on each side. Then 6 in one side and 6 on the other. We climb up a ladder and drop inside the basket. Some last minute instructions are given: in case of a bad landing, duck down and press your back against the back of the basket and hold on tight to the handrails. But don’t worry, he says, that almost never happens. I pay little heed, so ready for my next adventure. I’m loaded in right next to the pilot, an old guy with a contagious smile. The guy from the balloon company comes around one final time and points to the hand straps I’m to hold in case anything happens. Hmmmm. I make a mental note and prepare for liftoff. 

(Ballon representative)

The pilot pumps a lever and flames blast up, the heat radiating against my skin. Slowly we lift off. Up and up we go. The wind pushes us back towards the Nile. The houses and people become small little specks the higher we ascend. 

The pilot points out Karnak and Luxor Temple as we rise and float gently in the sky. It’s all so beautiful. 

The pilot gets the go ahead to cross the Nile. He says it’s rare for that to happen, maybe only once a month as the winds have to be just right. Everything is lining up for me on this magical trip! 

I see some of the other balloons begin to descend and drop gently into fields. It doesn’t seem as though there are any set landing spots, you just land wherever. 

Our ballon keeps sailing. I watch as the pilot pulls some strings and heads to an area that looks like the surface of the moon. He can’t be landing there, can he?  In that rocky terrain? He must know what he’s doing. 

We begin our descent, and at about 100 feet from the ground he shouts, “Get in your crouch positions!” Wait, what? I crouch down and look frantically for my handholds. Thank god that guy made that last pass. I grab on tight and press my back firmly against the wicker basket. I’m nervous, but this must be routine. 

But then I look up and see what nobody ever wants to see: panic on the face of our pilot. Everybody is in their crouched positions, and I know I should stay where I am, but I want to know what the hell is going on. So I half stand, half squat and look back over the basket. Bruh! 

Quick story: As a kid, I used to like to build ramps and jump my bike as far as I could go. But on several occasions, while floating through the air like Evel Knievel, I’d get this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. A split second of fear, when I realized I wasn’t going to make the jump and was about to eat shit. About to have my handlebars jammed into my ribs and literally eat dirt…

Well that’s exactly how I felt looking over the side of that basket. We were coming in hot! Way too hot!! The terrain was rocky with divots and channels. Shit was definitely not looking good. I crouched back down and braced for impact. 

Bam! We hit hard, then lifted off the ground, like a plane making a rough landing. People began shouting, then I heard screams from outside the basket, the ground crew had driven to our location and were sprinting alongside our basket.

Bam! We hit again and start dragging,  scraping against the rocks. 

Bam! Bam! More screams and now I don’t see the pilot. Then, as if things couldn’t get any worse, we tip over! Now I’m on my back being dragged across the rocks and looking up to 6 people above me. The girl who was next to me is now smashed on top of me and the guy next to her is under my feet. 

One of the grounds crew has managed to leap onto the basket as it continues to slide along the ground on its side. We’re still moving pretty fast. Then my stomach knots up as I feel the basket trying to flip over again. If it goes over we will be completely upside down. There are more screams as it rocks up. We are like a teeter totter now, right on the edge of going over. We stay there for a moment, all of us feeling our mortality as fate decides which way she will go. Will I eat shit like all those times before when I didn’t make the jump? 

The ground crew continues to heave and pull and we come to a halt and rock back down, although still on our side. The guy under me’s eyes are wide with fear. “It’s ok, it’s ok,” I try reassuring him. But he looks shell shocked. The six people above me are pulled out one by one like bodies being taken out of body bags. 

I wait until the people around me are removed before climbing out, since it seems I’m the only one who was able to hold onto those freaking handrails. They tell us not to get out until they give the okay, so the ballon won’t take off again. But I say screw that, I’m getting the hell out of this coffin!

Everybody is hugging, some crying. I have a pit in the bottom of my stomach and my heart is racing a thousand beats a minute. But I have survived my harrowing ordeal. Fate must have other things in store for me.

The guy from the balloon company appears and shoves a ballooning certificate in my hands. 

Then he gives me a survey and tells me to fill it out. All i can say is…

“Bruh!”