Up, Up and Away
For years, I’ve dreamed of taking a ride in a hot air balloon. I’d read that Cappadocia is probably the best place in the world to do this. EVERY DAY, weather permitting, hundreds of hot air balloons take to the air over Cappadocia’s unusual terrain. This was a new experience we HAD to try!
We were picked up from our hotel at 4:45am. I am not a morning person, but I was too excited to mind the early wake-up. After several stops to pick up more passengers, the van delivered us to a open field, where we watched in the dark as the crew filled the balloon. The basket was on its side, and they used fans to direct the hot air. It didn’t take long for the balloon to rise, and the basket to right itself.
We used a small ladder to climb into the basket, which had eight separate compartments. Our pilot, Cezar, explained some simple rules (stay inside the basket, assume the landing position when instructed).
The sky had lightened, and we could start to make out our surroundings. The basket lifted smoothly into the air, and we were flying! Well, floating. Now I understood why the balloon flights take place at sunrise - the slow reveal of Cappadocia’s landscape and the brilliant orange sky were a kind of beauty I’ll never forget. I was awestruck.
Our balloon moved at a relaxed pace, rising higher until we could see into the surrounding valleys. Cezar said we were over 600 meters above the ground! Dozens of other balloons floated silently around us. Except for the occasional hiss when Cezar fired the burner, it was absolutely quiet. I didn’t feel any fear at all, just a sense of joy and calm. I didn’t feel cold, either. It was perfect.
Far in the distance was the silhouette of a large, pointed mountain. (Later, I learned it was Mount Argus, a dormant volcano 12,850 feet tall.) Below us were rock formations so strange they were otherworldly! There was a forest of mushroom-like fairy chimneys.
There were zig-zag valleys with wrinkled white slopes and pointy spires. Each valley was more strange and wonderful than the last.
Steve and I were sharing our corner of the basket with two women who were both much shorter than me, so I had no trouble seeing the amazing views. I learned they were from Valencia, and tried to tell them (in my rudimentary Spanish) how much we loved their city.
Cezar took the balloon low into a couple of valleys, so we could get a closer look at the rock formations and wave to the people watching from their hotel terraces.
I tried to put my phone away and just be in the moment, but it was impossible to resist taking more photos as the light and landscape changed!
When the balloon began to descend for the last time, I was disappointed. It had been about an hour in the air, but I would happily have stayed aloft for another hour. Finally Cezar instructed us to get into the landing position. Steve bent his knees and braced his back against the side of the basket, and I braced my back against Steve’s chest. We landed with a gentle bump, and everyone cheered.
Cezar worked with the ground crew, lifting the basket just enough to set it on a trailer. With all of us still in the basket, a truck pulled it over to one side of the field. We climbed out and watched other balloons landing around us. It was interesting to see the crew deflate the balloon and roll it up into a surprisingly small package, no bigger than a trash bin.
Cezar served glasses of cherry juice mixed with sparking wine, and we all toasted our successful ballon ride - Şerefe (sheh-reh-feh)!
