Spectacular Hot Air Ballooning Across the Masai Mara

I almost missed an experience of a lifetime – a hot air balloon ride across the sweeping plains of the Masai Mara in Kenya to witness the legendary migration of the wildebeest.

We had travelled for three solid hours on a rough, rocky, unmade road to reach the Masai Mara in Kenya. The big yellow bus was shaking and bouncing, making it impossible to take photos, write notes or even speak. All we could do was brace our bodies against each bump and grit our teeth. The journey was gruelling. I felt like my insides were like a James Bond martini – shaken not stirred!

And then we piled in a jeep for a two-hour game drive on more rough tracks and in the rush, I forgot to take snacks and water. Despite seeing my first lion, a migraine headache was setting in and I felt nauseous by the time we set up camp and started cooking. I couldn’t face eating. I wanted to throw up but couldn’t manage it, pacing in circles and groaning!

When I signed on for the expensive optional extra of a hot air balloon ride I didn't know the incredible experience would require getting up in the dark for a one hour drive to the middle of the open plains for a pre-dawn lift-off.

The prospect of another rough ride made my stomach churn. I tried to renege. But Edmund was adamant. ‘No, I couldn’t get a refund’ and ‘No, the trip wasn’t transferrable!’ He encouraged me to seize the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and reassured me I would feel better in the morning.

So Marissa gave me an anti-nausea tablet and I collapsed into my sleeping bag. With my iphone dead, my tent buddy Merethe set her smart phone alarm for 4.30 am.

When the alarm sounded in the pitch black, I stumbled around the tent chucking on clothes and shoes and fell out of the tent dizzy and disorientated, trying to find the toilet block when suddenly a tall Masai warrior, one of the camp guards, was in front of me with a torch. I jumped out of my skin, trying to explain I was being picked up for the balloon ride. He tapped his watch which showed 1.30 am!

Turns out Merethe’s alarm was still on Norwegian time! So I climbed back into my sleeping back fully clothed and dozed until William, another Masai warrior, resplendent in red regalia, draped in necklaces, came to collect me.

 And now, William and I sit in companionable quietness driving across the golden plains as the birds and animals are stirring before sun-up. I gaze at the exotic wildlife, now familiar; playful giraffes in their striped pyjamas, herds of wildebeest; a strange composite of an animal with its huge buffalo-like head (and rounded Roman nose), the body of a cow, a mane like a horse and silky whiskers hanging from its neck, pretty gazelles with their caramel, white and black striped flanks, graceful impala and the larger Topi antelope in their yellow socks. These are the animals that intrepid travellers from around the world come to see in their multitudes.

Around 1.5 million wildebeest, accompanied by half a million zebra and as many antelope race across the open plains, often in single file, in their migration from the mating and breeding grounds of the Serengeti in neighbouring Tanzania to graze on the fresh grasslands of the Masai Mara. The guides say the slow-witted wildebeest like to hang out with the intelligent zebras, because they can sense the danger of predators and trigger a hasty escape.       

When we arrive at the launch site, I am stunned to see a massive striped balloon spread out on the ground with a basket lying on its side and a team of men in overalls rushing around to prepare the flight.

I had a vague idea of stepping daintily into a wicker basket with a balloon cheerfully floating overhead, which is kind of impossible. Everything about this trip is a surprise and more physically challenging than I expected. So the 14 of us, all shapes and sizes and nationalities, have to climb into the four compartments and lie on our backs with our knees bent, squashed together, like crack commandos, as our skilful pilot, Jason, ignites the gas flame. Whoosh! The smell and sound and heat of the flame are exhilarating. We are dragged along the ground until the balloon expands and the basket tilts and we are abruptly upright and airborne.

The sensation of gently floating across the plains (actually we are rushing along at 40 mph) is euphoric. Jason works the powerful butane gas jets releasing gushes of flames that warm my back and draw us higher and higher as the orange sun rises across the spectacular vista of the Masai Mara, teeming with skittish wildebeest running in all directions, startled by a basket full of humans suspended in the air by a mighty orb, sailing into heaven.

Thank you Edmund, is all I can say, for encouraging me to take this sensational ride! Even in dirty clothes, unwashed hair, with my shoes on the wrong feet, I’m glad I’m here at dawn, soaking up the grandeur of the natural world and the vastness of the multi-coloured sky. I’ve never felt more alive. 

I see the joy on Jason’s face, as he masterfully manoeuvres this whimsical vehicle and delights in his awe-struck passengers taking in the view, spotting animals and landmarks and the distant mountains on the horizon until we finally crash land, bump, bump, bump. Jason laughingly assures us that this is a “controlled crash”, as the basket hits the ground and the giant balloon deflates and collapses.

As if all this excitement was not enough, we are picked up in jeeps to be transported to our breakfast. I imagined we are heading to a nearby lodge but once again I’m in for a surprise as we arrive in the middle of the open plains to see elegant long trestles beautifully draped in white and red tablecloths and set with fine china, and an immaculate catering staff all ready to serve us a Five Star, Silver Service breakfast. But first a flute of champagne!

All the guests are gob smacked and delighted as we eat a hearty breakfast and chat about this rare experience. Talking to our heroic pilot, I discover that Jason is a Canadian, a champion hot air balloon pilot, who flies in spectacular locations and competes in elite competitions around the planet! What an astonishing lifestyle!  

Jason presents me with a certificate stating: “This is to certify that Diane Priestley ventured aloft over the Masai Mara on the 30^th of September 2016.”

It’s official. I did it. And so can you. The extraordinary flight with Hot Air Safaris costs £320. A bucket list must.