Travel

BY ANNA BARBARA L. LORENZO, Reporter

Up, up and away

"Oh good! Nice and thin!" These words from a total stranger served as boarding pass for my first hot air balloon flight.

I have heard horror stories about balloon rides such as baskets toppling over and being dragged forever and passengers getting their bones broken. But I woke up at 3 a.m. and I had been waiting for the event to start for over two hours.

Sleep-deprived, my mind was dead-set at getting a balloon ride that chilly morning at the Omni field in Clark, Pampanga.

Thankfully, the stranger is an experienced navigator from England. Nick Bettin has been a hot air balloon pilot for eight years. He came to the country last week with friend Andy Tween to participate in the Philippine Balloon Fiesta for the second time.

Mr. Bettin learned to fly a hot air balloon because his girlfriend loves to see the world from midair.

"My girlfriend wanted to go for a flight and I knew someone who can fly. I just started helping out and learned to fly after many years. She’s my wife now," he said.

Mr. Bettin’s giant green balloon was almost ready when event organizer Joy Roa introduced us. Upon boarding, which is just climbing up the basket, Mr. Bettin quickly gave instructions on which handles to hold on to. The top of the tanks beside me is okay, but the tubes leading fuel to the burner are off limits.

We were all set for the first competition, which is to chase a balloon with the Philippine flag. This balloon will lead us to a target we are supposed to hit with a marker.

With Nick (in blue shirt), Andy (in black), and some members of the chase crew.

The event was delayed and we waited on the ground for about 20 minutes. But waiting, in itself, was already an experience. The wind was already strong, blowing us off to different directions and the basket was leaning to all possible angles.

Mr. Bettin said the balloon wanted to fly. A crew of four men, all Mr. Bettin’s friends from last year’s balloon event, kept us balanced and grounded the whole time.

While it was turbulent on the ground, everything was calm in midair. Things started to get smooth when we were finally allowed to take off.

Mr. Tween, a commercial helicopter pilot, said we were probably flying not lower than 500 feet. From there, one sees an unobstructed view of Pampanga, its quiet residential areas, the mountains surrounding the province and a vast area of lahar from Mount Pinatubo’s eruption in 1991.

                        Every now and then, Mr. Bettin would fire up the balloon, which in turn heats up my face that has been numb from the cold air above ground. He said the temperature inside the balloon should be about 100oC.

"The balloon has two burners. The main burner has a big and noisy flame that is bluer and cleaner. Then there’s the whisper or the cow burner. It is more quiet so it does not frighten cows or animals when flying close to the ground," Mr. Bettin said.

The basket carries four tanks with about 40 liters of fuel each. Each tank can keep a balloon afloat for 25 to 30 minutes but Mr. Bettin said we have so far used up three tanks due to the delay on the ground.

While Mr. Bettin was minding the balloon, Mr. Tween was busy looking around while greeting and waving at the folks on the ground.

The target became visible about 20 minutes into the flight and Mr. Tween started to prepare the marker. The throw seemed good initially, but the wind blew the marker towards the left until it totally missed the target.

Mr. Bettin said last year, his wife Sarah threw it right on the spot. This year, however, Mrs. Bettin is off to another ballooning event in India.

After about half an hour of lazing off, basking under the morning sun and enjoying the early breeze, Mr. Bettin found a small field which can adequately provide a landing ground.

In a later interview, Mr. Bettin said it is sometimes difficult to fly in England since property owners get mad when balloonists land.

"In England, it’s not fun. The owners of farms or land are very anti-balloons. You can’t land anywhere. They shout at us or even threaten us with a gun. It’s crazy. We mean no harm. We just want to land and pack our gears up," Mr. Bettin said.

Being the good and responsible pilot that he is, he gave instructions on how we should prepare for landing. He also told me to put my bag and camera on the basket floor so they do not fly off when we hit the ground.

Unfortunately, I tucked in my camera too early and missed a potentially good overhead shot of the ruins of an Iglesia ni Cristo church.

The balloon started to drop and, as instructed, Mr. Tween and I held on to the rope handles and bent our knees a bit while leaning to the direction where the basket was headed.

With nothing to only the ropes to maneuver the balloon, Mr. Bettin stretched his legs across the basket to brace for landing.

We hit the ground upright with a thud but the balloon decided it was not done with the fun just yet. With some wind caught inside, the balloon tipped the basket to its side and dragged us a few feet across the sugarcane field.

We ate dust — literally. But who’s to care? It was a long and turbulent wait, a cool and calm flight, and a bumpy and exciting touchdown.

We landed on our side and had to crawl to get out of the basket

When my friend Iris asked, "Where have all the flower shops gone?" I was afraid she would start singing. Thankfully, she did not. Still, I wondered. Where, indeed, have they gone?

Since early last week, I had been planning to get flowers for my mother and have them delivered to her office. This is, I believe, the first time in my almost 25 years of existence that I would send her flowers. So last Sunday, I managed to convince Iris to go with me to a tiny flower shop I used to see near the office. She said she might even get flowers for her mom, too.

The shop was no longer there. And for some time, I doubted if it ever really existed. We pushed our luck to see if there are other shops in the Tomas Morato and Timog areas (Anabel’s is a given, but we figured it would be too expensive). We found nothing.

Iris said flower shops have folded up probably because nobody sends flowers anymore, with a "’di ba?" I wouldn’t really know as I’m not a very popular Valentine material. But I thought it was almost too depressing. What would the world be without flower shops? Sure, it would be less commercial. But then, who would have the patience in this fast-paced hi-tech times would stop somewhere to grab a wildflower for someone? And where would one find flowers in a busy and heavily polluted metropolis?

My persistence in getting my commercial flowers succeeded last night as I settled for a tiny bouquet of mums (roses and tulips were outrageously priced!) at the posh Podium mall. There were just two attendants there and I had to wait a while before getting my flowers ready since there were some guys who lined up ahead of me. Yep, I was the only girl getting flowers at the last minute and I had to drag another friend, Gerard, to stand there and provide the macho factor for me.

I was relieved that some guys still go out of their way to get flowers for whoever, although it bothered me that some spent thousands for just a few stems.

Anyway, I will have to set aside plans to have flowers delivered to my mom for now. I found out such service to Makati from Ortigas costs way more than the bouquet I got. The consequence of my being a cheapskate, of course, is that at three a.m. I’m still trying to figure out how to give it to her.

I was hoping she would keep her bedroom door open so I can just slip in and put the flowers there while she sleeps. The door opens with a real loud noise that’s sure to wake her up and I refuse to do a telenovela scene and hand it to her with a kiss and a hug. That’s way too dramatic already.

I did not go to the Lovapalooza thingamalooza

but I got kisses anyway

in three tranches

at three in the morning.

With a girl

trapped in a man’s body.