TURKISH DELIGHT

The ballooning experience starts well before the crack of dawn. An early morning start is a small price to pay for this experience-of-a-lifetime. (The big price is the balloon ride itself). We were picked from our hotel and taken to the valley of fairy chimneys and caves. The driver got off and opened the door of the vehicle. Reading this as a sign of our arrival at the destination, I woke up hubby and we disembarked. I could not spot the driver in the dark but saw this as an opportunity to soak the views. I stood on uneven and rocky ground with strange and scary conical formations all around me. Some had windows and doorways that were used by the early settlers. I saw camera-toting tourists emerge out of these doors, with the driver in tow. Apparently, these primitive caves were now boutique hotels, complete with mod-cons for the soft adventure seeker. Thousands of years back, nuns and monks stayed in there because volcanic rock keeps warm in winters and cool in summers. Today, as tourists, we want to feel at home even while we travel to be far from it.

At the take-off field, the sky and its magical colours gave an ethereal touch to the already fascinating landscape. The introduction by the pilots had set us at ease. (A nervous American tourist in Istanbul had cautioned hubby against ballooning in Cappadocia after he experienced a bumpy fall instead of a descent). We realised that we were flying with the most experienced ballooning pilots in town—a husband and wife team. While the husband prepared the two balloons with the help of his staff, the wife gave instructions (gendered division of labour!) with enough humour to calm any edgy nerves. The total number of passengers was divided into two groups, one in each balloon. With all ears to the pre-flight instructions, we gaped at the preparations for take-off. The mammoth balloon was spread on the fields and the fuel system switched on. After hot air snuggled into the limp sheet lying on the ground, a majestic balloon—as high as a six-story building—stood erect on the trailer. We were asked to swiftly get into the wicker baskets. The impatient balloon freed itself from the trailer and lifted off the ground. And before we knew it, we saw the shadow of our huge balloon on the fields below.

The take off was slow and gentle. As it rose up, the feeling of calmness and joy overpowered me. We nearly forgot the cameras that hung around our neck till we heard clicks around us. The balloon rose and dipped into valleys, flew over treetops, apricot farms and vineyards and once passed an inch away from a giant fairy chimney. While I was gripped by the view, hubby divided his attention between the scenery and the flight control equipment. Having flown a Cessna, he envied the pilot and listened to him in rapt attention. He said the record of the highest balloon flight is held by an India man—he flew 70,000 feet in Mumbai! After an hour or so of floating in the sky and gazing at the scenes, I sat down. An Australian woman followed suit and we started chatting. To my utter surprise and hers, we realised that the balloon felt absolutely stationary. So gentle is its movement that if you are not looking out, it feels static!

The highest we went was 6,700 feet. We glided over these natural wonders for close to two hours. The weather was balmy. Descent was again slow and smooth. The landing was perfect and precise. The balloon landed right over the trailer. It was quickly fastened to big hooks on the trailer to stop it from drifting off. I looked up and missed being the bird I was!

A champagne party at landing was just the right way to celebrate. We ate cakes and freshly-picked apricots and received our flight certificates. I asked the pilot about ballooning accidents. He said it was just a case of bad apples. Apparently, a rich Sheikh recently bought 10 balloons for Cappadocia. These are being flown by his sons and nephews, who have barely clocked a few months of flying time each. The American tourist had clearly fallen into wrong hands. I have a different story to tell. And my German friends are listening!