Yesterday, as I was partaking of the comfort of my spacious balcony, the weather, which had been hot as hell all day, suddenly turned brutal, stormy and chilly.
I spotted a very low altitude hot-air balloon come floating from behind the next building, and the rain lashed it as it drifted closer and closer to the ground. The pilot pumped the burner but the balloon fell even lower and finally drifted behind some buildings and I lost sight of it. But it was clear that something unplanned was about to happen.
I checked the online newspapers a little later and read that 10 balloons had indeed crash landed in the Stockholm area, owing to the sudden storm, 2 of them in an outdoor sport arena close to me. Some legs had been broken, some heads had been cracked, one balloon even had to ditch in a lake, but no fatalites were reported.
And it was of course destiny that this would happen only 4 days after I had purchased…wait for it…a ticket for a hot-air balloon trip. Bloody typical.
Reports from the crashed balloons have the passengers saying things like “Oh, I shall never do that again!” or “No more balloons for me thank you very much Guv”. But I will not let a little thing like a few crashes put me off! And if I go up next week I will probably get the whole balloon to myself, since people will always make the following bizarre conclusion: bad thing happen now, so bad thing will happen again in similar way.
Just like all those people who were suddenly scared to go to Thailand after the Tsunami, or who suddenly stop eating beef after a little kerfuffle about some virus or other melting their brains. Pah, I say!
And anyway, I would probably pay extra to get a little crash-and-turn-over balloon action, with the screaming and the burning and the gnashing of teeth. So bring it on, oh Gods of irony, you do not scare me! Not much, anyway.