“Come to Bristol in August when the Balloon Festival is on” my friend, Alison invites. At least I hope she did because we’re here now. It’s early morning and the household is still quiet. I stir Jasper & Miranda awake and we dress as quietly as we can.
We only arrived yesterday but I know from experience that ballooning can be hit and miss and the weather looks perfect this morning, an opportunity not to be taken lightly.
I navigate my way through the streets, thankful that it’s quiet given that I have to figure it out for myself, it’s the first time I have been here. Once we get to the Clifton Downs the number of cars at this hour tells me that we’re in the vicinity at least.
We clamber out of the car and walk up the road, following the instructions from Alison last night by memory. And then, as if by magic, there they are, across the river, rising out of the earth and above the trees in slow motion. We raise our eyes to the heavens and watch.
Jasper & Miranda spot a track and we follow it round and down through the dampness of the morning until we round a corner for an even better view. I’m not familiar with the landmarks here but I do know the Clifton Suspension Bridge and that the area across from us is the Leigh Woods National Nature Reserve. It looks misty and mysterious in the early morning light. The Avon River flows down below.
More and more appear as they rise up over the nature reserve and float towards the bridge and out of sight behind the trees of the Downs. They float like dandelions through the sky and their colors and shapes become more apparent as the sun rises and gathers strength.
It is a festival indeed with probably around 40 balloons in the air that we can see. I gaze for a while until the children grow restless and we return to the car. There are more balloons headed our way as we return home and after we arrive and for the next half hour or so, we hear the rush of has as several float over the house.
The next afternoon, we return to the Clifton Downs in the afternoon for a picnic with hope of witnessing an afternoon flight. Unfortunately the winds have picked up and the balloons don’t go up which makes me particlularly thankful that we braved the early morning.
The picnic is a success though, despite a spilled glass of very nice champagne and we enjoy some kite flying and races with the children.
There are lots of people out, drawn by the lovely weather and the promise of balloons, even though this doesn’t eventuate.
There’s a lot more to Bristol than its Balloon Festival but timing a visit to coincide certainly adds another dimension to an already great city with something that you can’t witness everyday – even when the festival is running! If you’re lucky, you can see it here around August and if they’re not flying, there is still plenty more to see and do.
Would I Return?
Yes. I’d return to visit friends (if we’re invited back) and I’d certainly try to time it for the balloon festival. Perhaps next time I’ll even take a flight.
