Virgin Hot Air Balloon

I went through a stage of surprising Beard with random things I thought he would enjoy after we had a particularly stressful year… If you have read any of my other posts, you will already know I am immensely geographically challenged. I’m that person that buys a chair in Wales for 99p on eBay but has to pay £90 for a return train fare (Virgin of course) to get the damn thing back because I thought it was only 2.3 miles from our house.

So when I booked this and put the postcode in, needless to say, Beard wasn’t surprised that good old Tom Tom said: “you have reached your destination” in the middle of the A2 by the Dartford Tunnel. Accidentally I had tapped in a postcode near Bluewater shopping centre whereas we needed to be closer to Tunbridge Wells. Luckily we have a Subaru so pedal to the metal and off we zoom!!!

You can be a tad more organised than me and check out the locations available to you here as opposed to pretending you know where you are going as a geographically inept half-wit, whilst trying to keep “the surprise” a secret from your husband, who probably would know where you are going if only you would tell them. But I didn’t, so that made us over 40 minutes late.
Alas, in our true style, we burn into the gravel car park while wheel spinning, and slide the car into a parking space in a manner that only James Bond would respect. As we get out, the Virgin staff on the ground shout “the balloon is lit and going up – we can’t stop it! RUN!!!” 

Imagine flowing hair, a perfect pout, my bosoms bouncing delectably as I run (in slow-motion) in a Pamela Anderson style. Beard is just behind me rocking a steely sexy gaze with those big brown eyes of his, and, of course, checking out my perfectly taut bottom. Mid-run he slicks back his obscenely sexual dark locks, as his pulsating muscles protrude from his white tee-shirt.
We. Will. Make. This. Flight. And. My. God. Do. We. Look. Fecking. Good.


So, yes the fella did shout at us to jump into the hot air balloon as it was taking off, but we didn’t run in the manner I have documented. Beard ran through a massive cow pat catapulting cow turd up his jeans and all across my boots and jumper. I then proceeded to launch myself at the basket of the hot air balloon and had to be pulled on headfirst into the already slightly overcrowded area by the other passengers. And poor Beard, being as short as he is, required a “bunk up” from the Virgin Hot Air Balloon workers on the ground. Bear in mind, he had shit all over his feet… And no sooner were we in the basket, the staff on the ground shaking their heads at us and wiping their poo stained hands on the ground, we were 10 foot off the ground going up up up and away…

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After we clambered on board, we did laugh with our fellow new best friends about how we joined them as they were enjoying a glass of fizz. Granted, it was a slightly unorthodox method of joining the party; however, all the more memorable. We still laugh about it now.

Screen Shot 2018-01-22 at 15.22.17.pngWe didn’t take the kids with us on this occasion, however, they can enjoy the adventure from the age of 7 years old. Thankfully I didn’t tell Josh what we were doing. Firstly, because he would have told Beard and secondly because I know he would have informed me of not only the dangers but also the science behind Hot Air Balloons. Personally, that would have terrified me!

There’s something slightly unnerving about being 3,000 feet above the treetops in a basket with a fire. It caused a bowel movement for a split second, but pushing this to the back of my mind, I’ve never felt freer. Just floating above the countryside of Kent, it was stunning. It felt liberating.


Our Virgin Hot Air Balloon trip was fantastic, the staff were extremely friendly, and the hour we spent in the sky with the clouds passing by, went so quickly, I wish we could’ve done it all over again! But just because we now had our feet firmly on the ground didn’t mean the experience was over. We were greeted with a glass of bubbly and then it was time for the fun to start in packing the balloon down. At the start, I thought this was lazy slave labour on behalf of the Virgin staff, but actually it was brilliant fun squishing all the air out and seeing this giant inflated thing slowly compacting down to nothing.


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There are tons of offers on Hot Air Balloon flights; however Virgin have nailed this experience, and at £124 per person you can’t go wrong! Book your flight here

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