Un voyage en montgolfière

This weekend I went with Emilie, her mom, Cecile and Yvain to France for a hot air balloon ride. Emilie’s mom had been attempting to organize the balloon ride for a few years now, but the plan had always fallen through due to inclement weather (you basically sign up for a weekend far in advance and then get a confirmation or cancellation follow up a couple of days before based on the weather forecast).

We stayed in Cordon, which is a small town in the shadow of Mont Blanc and not far from the field where the balloons took off.

Given the early start on Saturday – we had to be there at 8am – we drove out Friday night and enjoyed a nice meal at the hotel. The use of “hotel” is probably a bit of a misnomer – it was actually more like a B&B, as the lady who checked us in was also the waitress at the hotel “restaurant”.

When we arrived at the field on Saturday morning, we could see the pilots preparing the balloons while anxious passengers watched attentively. There were five balloons in total and probably an average of five passengers per balloon.

The pilots prepared the various “aircraft” by stretching the actual balloons out horizontally and then filling them with air through the use of giant fans. Once a sufficient amount of air was inside the balloon, the pilots would spray fire / hot air inside using the burners. At this point I looked at our pilot and wondered if his Art Garfunkel-esque haircut was the result of male pattern baldness or a freak accident with the burners.

After a sufficient amount of hot air had been released, the balloon and basket finally went upright and it was time to get in. We then climbed one by one into the basket (it was literally a large wicker basket) and waited for take off. It was a tight fit with five of us in the passenger area, but we still had enough room to move around a bit and change places.

Although I was a bit cold while watching the balloon preparation, it became very clear upon entering the basket that warmth wouldn’t be an issue. Literally inches from my head were the burners that heated the air inside the balloon. And every time that the pilot opened the propane valve, a flash of hot air radiated over my entire body.

After watching two balloons take off before us, it was finally our turn. This is a picture of our balloon.

And just when it seemed like we would never get off the ground, it finally happened. I’m not quite sure how to describe the feeling, but all of a sudden it was like we were weightless and slowly ascending. Though I’m not afraid of heights, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit a bit of uneasiness when 20 feet turned into 50 feet and then 100 feet, etc.

Here’s a shot of one of the ground crew just after we took off and another once we were a bit higher.

Over the course of the next hour, our pilot Oscar took us up over 7,000 vertical feet as we floated down the valley towards Mont Blanc. The weather was beautiful and the wind was very calm. This allowed for a very smooth flight and plenty of great pictures. And to keep things interesting, Oscar would routinely change our elevation from very high to very low and vice versa.

During the ride Oscar gave us a bit of a tutorial on piloting a hot air balloon. One of the more interesting things that I learned was how important the weight of the people in the basket. For example, Oscar said that if one of us had jumped (or fell) out of the balloon while we were at a high altitude, the balloon would immediately ascend roughly 100 meters given the weight difference.

After about an hour we began to descend again and it soon became apparent that this time we weren’t going back up. I was actually a bit surprised, as the rate of descent was a lot faster than I expected and our pace failed to slow as the ground quickly approached. To try to account for the speed upon impact, I literally jumped a split second before touchdown in order to soften the impact. All things considered, though, it was a safe landing and a successful end to the flight.

After we all exited the basket it was time to help pack up the balloon. The best analogy that I can provide is that of a sleeping bag – i.e., no matter how hard you try to roll up a sleeping bag, it never seems to go back into its cover as smoothly as the initial packing job. Well, the same was true for the balloon (albeit on a much grander scale), but we were ultimately able to get everything packed up okay.

Once all the gear was packed up, Oscar drove us to the post-flight rendez-vous for a celebratory snack and drink. It was clear that everyone had really enjoyed the flights but at the same time was quite content to have safely returned to stable ground. Here’s a picture of one of the crew who apparently used up all his energy during the balloon prep.

After the balloon ride we spent a little time in Megeve, where we toured the city a bit and then grabbed some lunch.

We then headed back to the hotel to relax for a couple of hours. The following is the view from our hotel room balcony.

For dinner we planned to eat at a small brasserie, but after some misdirection and a bit of confusion we ended up at Flocons de Sel – a restaurant outside Megeve with two Michelin stars. By chance the restaurant was able to accommodate us without a reservation (and despite our causal attire) and the food turned out to be excellent.