Balooning in Kapadokya

Checking the Kapadokya Balloons website in advance of my departure for Turkey, I was intrigued but somewhat skeptical at the promise that a balloon detached from the ground rarely creates a sensation of vertigo. I also wanted to test out the stated notion that the moving balloon basket hangs quite motionless in its own air mass. Sometimes a journalist's curiosity overcomes her common sense….
 
 So it was that I joined several bleary-eyed fellow travelers from our ElderTreks tour in rising well before dawn to head out in an indestructible Mercedes Benz van for today's chosen launch field. The take-off field varies according to the direction of the wind, with considerable skill required to judge the best possible flight path over such a complex pattern of deeply scored landscape.
 Although it is technically impossible to direct a balloon, our veteran pilot, Lars-Eric More, tells us as we weave along between the fairy chimneys on bumpy backroads in the pre-dawn gloom that he does give the appearance of steering the balloon. I'm not sure I quite follow this logic, but with 25 years experience operating balloons, Lars' word is good enough for me. He and his partner, Kaili Kidner, also an expert pilot, have operated Kapadokya Balloons for 11 years in Cappadocia. Today Kaili draws the tough job of leading the ground crew -- not only responsible for setting up and getting us safely and smoothly into the air but then performing the very challenging task of tracking us with two vehicles and a trailer across the region's hills and valleys until Lars decides where he will land today. Arriving at the designated launch site, our crew makes quick work of unloading the wicker basket from the trailer and laying out 90 feet of balloon, ropes and hot air paraphernalia. Flights always take place at dawn when the gentle and stable wind conditions are most predictable. I can see that this time of day is also ideal for photography with splendid colors, shadows and contrasts.
 Following an impressive launch, we pull away quickly from those waving goodbye on the ground.

Smiles all round, so far. Tranquility overtakes our basket as the balloon dips in and out of soft stone valleys whose geological time clock is moving at a decidedly accelerated pace. Cappadocia is the perfect classroom for erosion studies! We are moving in some direction but I have no idea whether it is Lars' skilled piloting or Mother Nature's soft breath that is responsible for our route over this hauntingly beautiful countryside. Between pointing out landmarks and talking about the geological formations, history and wildlife of the area, Lars keeps in radio contact with the ground crew. From time to time he reaches for a lever which sends an impressively large tongue of flame blasting upward into the balloon, thereby adjusting our height.
 An hour and a half in the air passes all too quickly, and soon Lars and Kaili are exchanging critical information about the best place to land, given today's flight path and a limited number of flattish areas suitable for touching down. By now we are soaring as high as the Egyptian vultures which cruise the area, observing the two vehicles and trailer careening along beneath us looking for all the world like Match Box toys.
 At some points we are deep inside a weather-sculpted valley literally skimming the tops of neatly planted pocket orchards and scrub trees; at other points Lars shoots the flame as we appear to be heading straight for a sheer wall and we gracefully rise over the canyon lip, sometimes with inches to spare between our basket and the craggy edge. Quite literally, timing proves to be everything.
 Lars spots his unlikely landing pad, a patch of scrub and rocks not far from a very rough track where the Mercedes vehicles will be put to the test. We descend ever so slowly while our pilot intensely works the levers to release just the right amount of air from the balloon. One wrong move and we'll certainly be somewhere we shouldn't be. The landscape is unforgiving. Meanwhile, the ground crew, an ever-smiling Kaili in the lead, comes racing up the hill, rubble flying from their feet and red in the face from their sprint.

They surround the basket, now bobbing just above the uneven ground, and grab with practiced hands for the dangling ropes to stabilize the surprisingly heavy basket. We make our less-than-graceful exits over the edge, and the enormous balloon is gradually deflated and stowed for another day.
 
 The traditional post-ballooning champagne, deliciously laced with fresh cherry juice, toasts the end of a successful flight, and for the first time everyone begins to chatter about what they saw and felt. While flying high over Cappadocia as day dawned, it somehow seemed inappropriate and, indeed, quite unnecessary to add any commentary to the panorama unfolding around us.
 And guess what? No vertigo. While in the air, the balloon basket sailed along so effortlessly that I didn't have to brace my feet once or lean against the side for balance. I might well have been standing in my living room except that the view wouldn't have been so riveting. I'm glad my curiosity overcame my common sense.
 
 Cappadocia's ballooning season runs from April 1 to the end of November, after which Kaili, Lars and their well-conditioned team of cross-country sprinters take a winter break while snow falls on Cappadocia and the winds become unpredictable.
 
 JS from http://www.travelwithachallenge.com/ Alison Gardner