Foggy, sun coming up, balloon fiesta in Bristol. Kids out of bed at 5.47am
I had packed the following: Waitrose 12 mini croissant, 4 pain au chocolat and 2 flasks, one with tea and one with rooibos. My neighbour had made lovely sickly sweet cocoa; we sat on a cow print blanket and had breakfast.
A cacophony of generators turning air into the balloons which rise with puffed out chests like opera singers. My favourite a posh old champagne balloon called Tattinger Reims. The hiss of the burners, the addictive aroma of propane gas and grilled bacon on Tesco barbies. The nasal breathing of the commentator, boobs bums and legs on the balloon advertising underwear. Looking up everyone’s noses as they watch the huge mammas rise. This was a good day, on a bad one, they would lie forlorn on the grass, waiting for a little bit of action.
I had packed the following: Waitrose 12 mini croissant, 4 pain au chocolat and 2 flasks, one with tea and one with rooibos. My neighbour had made lovely sickly sweet cocoa; we sat on a cow print blanket and had breakfast.
A cacophony of generators turning air into the balloons which rise with puffed out chests like opera singers. My favourite a posh old champagne balloon called Tattinger Reims. The hiss of the burners, the addictive aroma of propane gas and grilled bacon on Tesco barbies. The nasal breathing of the commentator, boobs bums and legs on the balloon advertising underwear. Looking up everyone’s noses as they watch the huge mammas rise. This was a good day, on a bad one, they would lie forlorn on the grass, waiting for a little bit of action.
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