By Sandra Herd 

We watched the black test balloon shoot up into the air like a rocket and a collective groan carried across the paddock. We’d been standing in a field in the middle of nowhere for nearly an hour. A motley bunch of tourists, pacing like lost ravers waiting for the next set of instructions as to where the party is, eagerly awaiting a crackle from the two way radio and a nod from Richard our pilot.

Sadly on this particular morning it seemed there was to be no ‘party’. The sun had just come up and so too had the wind bringing with it the news that no balloons would be going up today. Safety is paramount and on the just the fourth day of the nine day long Canberra Balloon Festival, there were to be plenty more opportunities to get ‘high’. 

We were driven back to the lawns at Old Parliament House where breakfast was provided and our balloon flight booking was rescheduled for later in the week.  Balloons Aloft in Canberra run flights all year round but the Canberra Balloon Festival is when the skies really come alive.  Our flight was going to be on the last day of the festival, leaving us with a few days in between to explore the Nation’s capital.

Canberra’s founding ceremony was held on Capital Hill in March 1913, after American architect Walter Burley Griffin won a competition to design the Australian capital city. In the 1960s Canberra’s ‘man-made’ Lake Burley Griffin was completed – the crowning glory in an otherwise non-descript capital city.  Much of Canberra’s public parks exist along the 40 kilometre shore line and the lake is where tourists and locals alike can fish, walk, cycle, kayak and barbeque and even paddle-o. As we drove down Anzac parade, which runs in a direct line from the National War Museum towards the Lake, we noticed the reflection of Parliament House, flanked by the National Gallery and the National Library. The water was like glass and the vista before me was unexpectedly beautiful.  I’m not ashamed to say, I was actually starting to acquire a fondness for Canberra that was also unexpected.

I’m not really politically minded but I do believe no visit to Canberra can be complete until you have visited the controversial Parliament House.  I say controversial because, love it or hate it, everyone seems to have an opinion about the architecture of the new Parliament House. We drove, unchecked into the underground car park. We were actually underneath Parliament House and more than a little bemused by the lack of security. We did, however, have to go through two security checks to get access to the public gallery where, by complete accident, we managed to catch the tail end of Question Time. Mr. Abbott was still wittering on about pink bats and our illustrious leader was filling the room with enough ‘hot air’ to keep the balloon festival going for another week.  As both of them tittle-tattled to Mr. Speaker about who promised what and who didn’t do what they said they would and blah blah blah, I excused myself from the row of seats  (fighting the urge to bang some political heads together) and went out onto the roof to appreciate the architecture of Romaldo Gieurgola. 

I enjoyed the freedom of walking around Parliament House as a guest but also as a citizen of Australia. It felt ‘official’ without being closed off and stuffy, it was bright and actually quite welcoming. Obviously not as imposing as the Palace of Westminster in the Mother country, and maybe not as iconic as The White House but as far as capital buildings go, I was happy with our lot. Filled with national pride and following the advice of anyone who has ever been to Canberra, we headed off to the Australian War Memorial. We’d been warned to reserve a whole day as there is so much there to see and indeed, it was ‘packed’ with displays and stories, planes and machines, tributes, medals and moving memorials.  Entrance is by gold coin donation. We got there late in the afternoon and stayed to watch the daily closing ceremony as a lone piper played outside the Hall of Memory to a respectfully silent crowd, returning the next day to explore the displays that we’d previously missed.

Whilst ‘googling’ my trip prior to booking, I had come across a travel review on Canberra that advised ‘where not to go in Canberra’. Surprisingly to me, Cockington Green was on top of that list. Now many may scoff and pooh-pooh the idea of a miniature village and I do grant you that, on a scale of exciting things to do on holiday, for many people it may rate only slightly above ‘watching paint dry’. But for me, and probably many other poms among you, it propelled me back to my childhood. Of family holidays in Cornwall, the St Agnes model village and miniature train rides, Devonshire teas and simple delights (and all the other stuff that an episode of Midsomer Murders is made of) and we’d found it all here in Canberra.  Many of the models are based on existing buildings in the UK and each display has been lovingly put together with humour hidden amongst the exquisite detail and, with an English style pub right next door serving beef and Guinness pie for lunch I, for one, was glad I had come.

Nothing is far away in the ACT. Indeed, if you drive too far you find yourself in New South Wales.....and if that happens to be in the small country town of Queanbeyan then you’ve definitely driven too far. The curiosity of the name prompted us to explore and once we’d crossed the border, we wished we hadn’t. We immediately turned around and headed for Mt Stromlo instead, a Mecca for mountain bike riders and home to the aptly name Capital Punishment mountain bike endurance race. An annual 100km mountain bike endure event definitely not for the faint hearted.

We discovered plenty of other high vantage points around Canberra: Mt Ainslie, Black Mountain and Red Hill while we were waiting for the ‘ultimate’ view from the basket of the hot air balloon. The Telstra Tower on Black Mountain rises 195 metres above the summit and, although it provides 360 degree views of Canberra and the surrounding countryside, we opted to save the $7 admission fee to the viewing gallery and drove out to Mt Ainslie instead. Here the views are free and the entire city is laid out before you, a fantastic place to pack a picnic and watch the sun go down.

In the days leading up to our last day in Canberra, and the final day of the festival, we enjoyed everything that Canberra had to offer. We dined with the locals in the suburbs of Kingston and Manuka. In Dickson we found little China Town where at ‘Jimmy’s Place’ the decor was simple but the food was great. We shopped at the eclectic Old Bus Depot markets and even made a glass postcard at the Canberra Glassworks to commemorate our trip. We visited the Museum, more because of its funky exterior than any pressing need to see Pharlap’s heart and even popped into the Royal Australian Mint which, unless you’re a ‘coin collecting anorak’ I’d probably give a wide berth. The admission is free however, if you’re silly enough (and I am) you can stamp your own $1. This involves putting $3 dollars into the machine, pressing a red button and watching the machine spit out a newly pressed $1 coin...and there’s a sucker like me born every minute.

The morning before our re-scheduled balloon flight the weather was perfect. The sky was grey and cloudy with that magical morning light peaking through the clouds and illuminating the balloons as they took off and flew over Lake Burley Griffin. Each year the pilots and balloons come from all over the world to participate in the festival and this year they were lucky enough to have Mister Bup all the way from Belgium -a giant grinning turtle with huge trainers on his feet and dangling shoelaces.  To me this is the epitome of what ballooning festivals are all about, he was joined by a giant kookaburra and the ever smiling golliwog and we watched them as they flew (some of them just inches overhead) past the National Museum and out towards Black Mountain.

Finally it was our turn. On the last day we rose early and headed out towards the Questacon building to see if the conditions were right. It was going to be now or never. It was the last day of the festival and we were leaving Canberra the following day. The weather was overcast but the wind conditions were looking good. We were told we’d be on the second flight, the first lot would go up and then the balloon would land in a field somewhere while the ten or so passengers would get out and we would get in.

So there we were, in another field in the middle of nowhere, waiting for our ride.  The huge yellow Questacon balloon appeared above and we watched as Richard (the pommy pilot) skilfully landed the basket and Alex (his trusty off-sider) literally launched his entire body onto the basket like a human sandbag, trying to keep the massive balloon grounded while Richard turned valves and knobs and co-ordinated the change-over of passengers whilst keeping the balloon inflated but on the ground. Then suddenly we were off...up, up and away and I found myself having the most surreal experience.

I’m famously not a fan of flying and I’m a wuss when it comes to heights but it was so peaceful and still up there I wasn’t worried about anything. We could see the other balloons through the shifting clouds and pointed out below all the places we had visited by car over the previous few days. After flying for nearly an hour (which seemed like just minutes) Richard got on the radio and started to direct the ground crew to a site where he planned to land. In a hot air balloon you are mostly at the mercy of what the wind is doing so there are no guaranteed landing spots.  Proven by the fact the Balloons aloft crews hold the keys for the gates to all the private paddocks and sporting venues around Canberra just in case a balloon lands there. Apparently the ‘rent’ for landing in a private paddock is usually a bottle of champers but on this occasion it seemed we would be landing in a paddock owned by CSIRO and filled with sheep....and didn’t they run!

As we lowered to land we flew metres above rooftops in the suburb of Kaleen, yelling out morning greetings to the locals who had come outside to see us. We sent the dogs in the back yards into a barking frenzy and kids came out to wave at the crazy balloon people.  On landing we came to rest with a gentle bump: we’d braced for impact by lowering ourselves inside the padded basket just in case. Under Richard’s instruction two of the passengers hopped out to hold the ropes to keep the balloon down until the crew (who were moments away) arrived. My other half was one of the men holding the rope and I fear he may have tugged on it just a little too hard. The basket started to tip while we were all still inside, everyone shifted their weight frantically trying to correct it and then, THUD...we tipped. We disentangled ourselves in between fits of giggles and wriggled out of the basket, a much easier way to disembark than trying to climb out.  After helping pack up the huge yellow balloon we were escorted back to the lawns of Old Parliament House for a very welcome and enjoyable champagne breakfast. What a fantastic way to spend a Sunday morning.

The festival had given me the perfect excuse to visit our Nation’s Capital without having to answer the awkward question as to why I had chosen to holiday there. Most Aussies (all but the 300,000-odd that live there) would have you believe that, at best, Canberra is a dreary oceanless wasteland and at worst, a pit of politics, porn and pen pushers. I discovered it to be neither. In fact, I discovered that ‘discovering’ Canberra was pretty pleasurable.

For a fantastic ballooning experience in Canberra anytime of the year visit www.canberraballoons.com.au

For more information on Canberra and the 2011 Balloon Festival visit www.events.act.gov.au