Tuesday we finally managed to fly Clare's birthday present, as the weather was calm enough for hot-air ballooning. Here's the video as we came into land.
The balloon pilot was, in Myers-Briggs terminology, a classic ESTP. He celebrated his top-dog, alpha-male persona by putting down the retrieval-truck driver, Nick, at all opportunities. He was similarly waspish with us, the paying punters, to our general amusement and the odd hurt feelings.
His views on the role (and likely behaviour) of women were pretty unreconstructed - although probably in accordance with evolutionary psychology. We also learned that the recent 'accidental' outbreak of foot-and-mouth virus from a Government facility was probably a plot to make Gordon Brown look commanding and decisive!
We got up to around 4,000 feet and the view was remarkable. Somehow the height of the basket, and its stability prevented the experience from being scary. Here's The Grange from a couple of thousand feet.