Don't look down

In a rash moment of enthusiasm we decided that the Bristol Balloon Fiesta sounded like good fun. We collected daughter and chap from Sheffield and played dodgems all the way down the motorway, somehow landing mid afternoon in Bristol. Negotiating the city's approaches is one of the country's most difficult feats of lane changing, aided by a signage system placed only inches from the turning you needed to have taken but didn't see in time.

After an unintended sightseeing tour of the south west, we found the car park and a spot on which to unfold our chairs. By six pm when the balloons were due to be launched, the site had filled to capacity and fetching a burrito and a tea became an exercise in patience and balance. After spilling chilli sauce down the only clothes I'd brought, the field was suddenly bursting with acres of coloured silk growing like giant lava lamps. 85 of them took to the skies. Pretty spectacular.

More photos here