As the teenage girl in front of me broke down in tears and started screaming hysterically that she wanted to get off, I did wonder if this was a bright idea. We were still on the ground and it wasn't too late to pull out of my first ever balloon ride (she eventually climbed out of the basket seconds before take off) but I was determined, despite the drama, to try and fulfil my dream. We had travelled before dawn at 6am to the desert outskirts of Marrakesh in Morocco without knowing whether air traffic control would decide the winds were too strong for us to that day.
I'd later learn that balloon rides are only possible first thing in the morning there as the desert sands and brilliant sunshine mean the air gets too warm at other times of the day to guarantee your return. After a 40 minute journey by luxury taxi to the Berber camp in the middle of nowhere, my excitement was reaching fever pitch as I enthusiastically signed some basic health and safety forms. I gulped back cinnamon flavoured tea in a traditional Moroccan tent as I gawped at the balloons coming to life as dawn broke.
The flames from the baskets lit up the skies as I quickly realise the crews inflating the massive coloured balloons against the backdrop of the desert dawn ran a slick operation. Our guide led our group of six over to our basket whereupon clambering in we found we were to be balanced by a friendly American family on the other side. Our captain Daniel explained, as his team gripped on to the sides of.