 Dawn View from Agriturismo Camiano Piccolo |
 Cloud Nine Taking Off |
Despite the early hour, many balloonists were already there, lined up all down the runway, some already inflating their balloons trying to take advantage of the early morning cool air. It was a hive of activity, the stillness punctuated by the buzzing of cold air inflation fans, burners being tested, and throaty hot air inflations. Individuals stood in a line straining on the crown ropes of inflating balloons, like a spread of fishermen on a beach trying to land colourful whales. Pockets of curious members of the public stood around capturing pictures of the occasion. It is a marvellous spectacle, a unique atmosphere.
We picked our spot, spread out the large Cloud Nine balloon envelope, connected up the basket and burner, tested the burner, and did a fan assisted cold air inflation of the balloon. While all this was going on the pilots triple checked the gas connections, the parachute (hot air escape valve) at the top of the balloon and umpteen other pre-flight checks. Once the balloon was well inflated from the cold air inflation, the burners could be directed into the open mouth of the balloon, fired up and the envelope quickly filled with hot air. The crown rope was still kept taught so that enough hot air filled the balloon before it started to right itself in the vertical direction. If it wasn't kept taught, a bubble of hot air would drag the top of the balloon up but the mouth would close up, causing it to collapse.
 John Hovering in the Hopper |
Meanwhile, Niall had completed his final pre-flight checks, and then he, Tony and Liz were soaring into the air. Shortly afterwards, John was in the air in the hopper.
Both balloons hugged the valley the airfield was nestled in. I knew Tony, in particular, preferred to hover just a metre above the ground, hopping over hedges and obstructions. This to him was skill and a most enjoyable way of flying. It seemed to me on the ground that he was having a say in how the flight was to proceed. The airs were very light, and lateral progress of all the balloons in the air was very slow. Subtle variations in breeze direction at different heights due to wind sheer allowed slight changes in lateral direction that balloonists were free to exploit. It was fantastic to watch balloons at various heights moving slowly off in diverse directions.
The large balloon occupied by our intrepid trio drifted ever so slowly up the valley. After 45 minutes they had glided over the brow of a hill and were out of sight.
 Hopper Above the Stubble |
Fiona, John and I packed his balloon away, and then John and I drove off to retrieve the others while Fiona helped an aging American crew pack their balloon away. She's a kind hearted woman.
It didn't take long to locate the Cloud Nine balloon, we spotted it from a ridge we were traversing, but it took a little longer to find a way to reach it in its stubble field. Soon we had it packed away and we were on our way to the airfield for a gas refill. We were enjoying a beer at the airfield bar by 8am, a customary tradition.
Afternoon was spent swimming, reading, dozing and chilling. There would be no evening flights since the air was still too hot. Balloonists prefer to preserve their balloons by running them in cooler air so that the internal temperature of the balloon is still at an acceptable temperature for the balloon fabric.
In the evening we climbed up the steep hill to Montefalco, continuing the climb inside the fortified town walls up the narrow, quaint, cobbled street of Via Porta Camiano, until we popped out into the town square. An event was being held in the square, organised for children who took turns in reading and performing to music in the centre of the square. Groups of doting parents hugged the perimeter fence, cheering and applauding their offspring on. The Italians are very much a family oriented race.
We passed the Bennett Insurance team who were sitting drinking cocktails at a bar by the square, and shared a few words before heading down by the town hall along Corso Goffredo Mameli to a craft beer bar and shop that John was keen to visit. Here, we sat outside, and John and I sipped draught IPAs while the others had a taster session of a selection of beers. Fiona stuck to aqua minerale. A group of other balloonist joined the happy throng outside, having just arrived in Umbria. John pointed out one of them to me, an unassuming character who went by the name of Dave Bereford. "He is the world champion," he informed me, "but I think his son may have usurped him now."
A few doors up from the bar was a restaurant where we tucked into pizzas, alright if you like lots of crust with your pizza, but it was an excellent way to round off our first day of ballooning.
 Evening Stroll around Montefalco. Note the Beautifully Lit St. Augustine Church Cloister |