This was a typical Sunday morning market full of tantalising smells to excite the senses. Fresh vegetables, fruit, flowers, cheeses, wine, and of course roast chicken, all grown or reared locally. It was mother’s day in France so the flower stall was particularly vibrant
When my husband and I went outside we noticed that the local people were all looking up to the sky, we thought that it was because they had not seen the sun for a long time, but no.
The Montgolfiers (named after the Montgolfier brothers who in 1783 took to the air for the first ever hot air ballon flight) were flying very low over the village. This blue one just missed the spire on top of the Marie.
You can see all of the birds trying to get away.
At first this Montgolfier was high in the sky, then it also started to descend.
You can see the people in the basket, so close you could talk to them.
You can see how near they came to the trees on the side of the valley
They came so low that you could talk to the people in the basket.
They were shouting to us below and several people shouting back, I heard “tournez à gauche à la fin de la route” – turn left at the end of the road – followed by laughter
Then with a whoosh of burning gas and hot air they started to rise once more.
My husband and I rushed to the car park because we could see the blue Montgolfier descending.
This was a one man Montgolfier, the pilot sitting in a cradle, not a basket
You can see how close he came to the trees.
I rushed over to see if he needed help, he nearly fell out of his cradle when he heard an English person talking to him. He was fine and in total control of his Montgolfier, he had ended his morning flight and radioed his position to a car to collect him.