Up and Away (25 feet at least)

It's 8am and there's hardly anyone around. And those that are seem mostly hungover. En route, I see a squirrel darting across the street.

It’s rare for me to be out this early on a Saturday morning, and if it does happen, it’s most likely because I’m doing the walk of shame. Not today. After crawling out of bed and showering, I head to Princes Street Gardens for my very first hot air ballooning experience.

The balloon thing is a promo stunt for the new Disney-Pixar film, Up, which, if you haven’t been paying attention, is about a delightfully crotchety old widower, Carl, who attaches hundreds of balloons to his house and flies to South America. I’m not entirely sure why I’m here, except the opportunity was offered to me and so I seized it. The balloon in question is made up of hundreds of smaller balloons, and there’s a replica of the character Carl's house which fits on the basket. It’s parked nearby though, because when it’s attached the pilot can’t see where he’s going, with a second balloon required to fly alongside it to keep him informed.

It turns out that the balloon is going to remain tethered, so I’m not about to sail over Edinburgh and beyond – my friends can shelve their envy now. Still, 25ft is higher than I can get by jumping, and it’s a new experience. To my relief, the balloon’s current passenger is a small child, which means the press photographers have already got all the Kodak moments they need and they’ve wandered off by the time it’s my go. I climb into the basket with pilot Neil, who informs me it’s unhelpful that I’m light, and then up we go.

I brace myself against the sides of the basket as gusts of wind rock us. Neil steadies the balloon by operating the burner mounted above us, sending blasts of flame into the envelope. There’s just enough room for the two of us and a gas bottle. The balloon has already toured in various places; in a few days’ time it will fly under London’s Tower Bridge. He tells me that he got into ballooning in the late seventies, and describes international balloon racing events. I may be a bit too suggestible for this – I’ve been in the redundancy club for six months now, and I only just manage to hold back from going “That’s it! Maybe that’s what I should dedicate my life to!”

Presumably it could be a lot more rocky if we were actually to ditch the ropes and fly away, but I think I’d be up for that. I’m clearly with a very experienced pilot, and it beats the hell out of swaying in a ferry nine storeys above the North Sea – I’d rather have a bit of air turbulence any day. Actually, I could probably happily stay up here all day. But after maybe ten or fifteen minutes, it’s time for the crew to pack up, and I slowly head home to catch up on the rest of my sleep. With a bit of luck, that daring balloon voyage will come.