On our last Sunday in Le Grand-Pessigny I heard a familiar roaring sound outside. It was quite early in the morning, probably about 8.30am.
I was still in my dressing gown when I dashed outside with my camera, just in time to see a hot air balloon drifting towards our terrace. I waved to the people in the basket and Lulu barked.
It passed low over the house and seemed to barely clear the château. I scrambled into my jeans and dashed up the hill to see if it had landed behind the château but it drifted off into the distance, quite low over the fields. In the quiet of a beautiful sunny Sunday morning, you could still hear the roar of the burners as it disappeared over the horizon.