I had always fancied a sunrise balloon ride, and it seemed a shame to come all the way to Morocco and not do it. None of the other ladies wanted to join me, but I knew I would be sorry if I didn’t go simply because I was on my own.
So, at around 4am I was up and waiting to be collected from the hotel.
It was still dark and very quiet. Our hotel was on the outskirts of the main city, so I was the last person picked up and, the first to be dropped off on the return journey. There was something rather lovely about being out at that hour, with the city still sleeping and very little traffic on the roads.
We eventually arrived at the launch site, where the preparations were already underway. The air was cool, there were fires burning for the tourists, and beautiful carpets had been laid out on the ground. It all felt rather surreal.
There were several balloons being inflated around us, their colours and patterns gradually appearing as they filled. I think there were about twenty passengers in our balloon, divided into separate compartments with two or three people in each.
I was excited, although perhaps a little apprehensive too. This had been on my bucket list for some time, and now I was actually standing beside the basket, watching the balloon above us grow larger and larger.
The launch itself was incredibly gentle. One moment we were on the ground, and the next we were rising, almost without noticing.
And then we were up.
The first thing that struck me was just how quiet it was. Apart from the occasional burst of the burner, there was very little sound at all. We were simply floating above the landscape, carried along by the breeze.
From above, the landscape looked remarkably peaceful. The roads were almost empty, the fields stretched away in different shades, and the scattered settlements seemed very small beneath us.
Every so often the burner would roar into life, breaking the silence and reminding us that we were, in fact, being kept in the sky by something rather more substantial than magic.
Otherwise, it was wonderfully calm.
I took photographs whenever I could, although there was something to be said for simply standing there and looking. The other ladies in the basket were travelling together, so I was quite happy in my own little space, enjoying the view and concentrating on my cameras. I did speak to them more once we were back on the ground, but during the flight I was perfectly content.
The flight lasted almost an hour, but it felt like no time at all.
Our pilot managed an incredibly smooth landing, bringing us down almost exactly where we had taken off. There was no great drama, just a gentle return to the ground and the realisation that the experience was already over.
Back at the launch site, we had a Bedouin-style breakfast, with breads, meats, fruit and tea. It was very much mass catering, rather than anything particularly exciting, but it was welcome after the early start. There was some chatting, certificates were collected, and gradually everyone began making their way back to the waiting vehicles.
By the time I was dropped back at the hotel, the other ladies were only just having breakfast.
I had briefly wondered whether I should go when nobody else wanted to join me, but I knew I would have regretted missing it. I was very glad I had gone, and I had absolutely no regrets about doing it on my own.
It was peaceful, exciting and quite unlike anything else I had done on the trip.
And yes, I would happily do it again.
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