A sight or a story
Early one morning, towards the end of our holiday, we all got up and trouped down to a field near a bar that’s near a restaurant I like. We were in Umbria, and the Sagrantino Italian Balloon Grand Prix was underway.
In the cool of the early morning we got to the field to find a few crews laying out their balloons and hustling their baskets out of trailers. We’d been expecting balloons that were ready to take off, we were evidently pretty early.
As soon as I saw the 4x4s bouncing their trailers across the field and the sleepy teams rolling out their envelopes, it turned from an opportunity to photograph a delightful and amusing spectacle, to the chance to tell a story.
Quickly abandoning my family I darted off into the field and began smiling broadly at people and showing them my camera. People smiled back at me and I began taking pictures, grinning and watching where I stood, and what I was next to.
When people asked me if I was an official photographer, I replied “not in any way” and continued to smile and photograph, trying to hit the beats I wanted to hit and keep out from underfoot.
After a while I got chatting to a lady on one of the teams, a big balloon with bees on it, and each time I passed we talked a little longer.
The Retrieve
On one of these chats Judy asked me how well I knew the area, and whether I might be prepared to help with the ‘retrieve’. After consulting with the intern’s handler, and being given permission, I agreed, very excitedly.
By now the balloons were leaving, others were taking off from another field near by. The dawn was filled with the sound of burners and the sky was filling with balloons as nearly 40 or so teams took off and headed over Todi.
Judy and I clambered into the car and headed off, over the hill and down the far side. It’s quite something to see so many balloons coming down hither and thither. (We saw at least one come down in a supermarket car park).
Once they were down and we’d found them, I helped to fold my first hot air balloon and we went for coffee at a bar where I used to secretly buy cigarettes.
Graeme and Kevin kindly offered to fly me the next day, partly as a thank you I think for helping on the retrieve, and partly because they’re really nice guys. I was to meet them early the next day.
Flying in the morning
The next morning we met at 5am and headed out for the airfield where we were to fly. The plan had been to get all 90 balloons off together in one… flotilla?
We passed teams heading in the opposite direction, and the roads seemed quiet. It wasn’t until we were one of two balloons to arrive that we realised the plans had changed overnight.
Cue a hurried drive back to Todi, to take off once more from the field the team had flown from the previous morning.
This meant setting up quickly and flying almost last. It also meant that my first flight in a hot air balloon was over a beautiful and historic Umbrian hill town, (and not an airfield next to a power station), and that there were almost 90 balloons in the air ahead of us.
The flight was amazing, the light was incredible, the mix of peace and beauty was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. The views over Todi were glorious and I tried to soak up as much as I could about flying a balloon by listening to Graeme and Kevin.
We came down on the other side of town, landing gently in a field near a sports park. Judy and Bruce were trailing us and they were ready for the retrieve when we landed. After we packed up, we went for coffee in our post-flight haunt, and then headed off to refill the gas tanks.
Queueing for gas
The ballooning community were a pleasant bunch, welcoming and a pleasure to be around. I obviously owe a special thank you to Graham, Kevin, Bruce, and especially Judy, without whom both my story and my adventure would have been a good deal shorter, less fun, and would have stayed much closer to the ground.
I’m conscious of how lucky I am, but I’m also aware that photography has been a catalyst for much of my luck. Through photography I’ve made images, memories and friends I’ll keep forever, as well as saying yes to all sorts of stuff that I might have skipped if I hadn’t wanted to shoot it, or been there to shoot it already. I’ve gone where I wouldn’t without a camera, and I’ve been accepted where I wouldn’t without one.
My hobby became a job I love, then it became a career I never thought I would have. I get to go on adventures like this one and on top of all of that, very very occasionally, I get to make a picture that means something.