Recently, I had birthday. Now I'm not a guy who likes to celebrate birthdays, because I fear the many surprises that have the dear friends came up for one. But this time I was lucky. Rather than feign joy over gifts that were purchased in the diametrical misapprehension of my character, I got a balloon ride.
Well, I'm terrified of heights and incline to claustrophobia, but such balloon rides are supposed to be very safe. Then again, not so sure now, says my friend Willi. But it always comes down. Sometimes spread over an area of several square kilometers. Wili says if that happens, he should try to drive in a crash into a tree. Since you had the best chance. I just wonder: the best chance of what? to split a tree from the crown to the root? A new height of 1.30 meters? Diapers on the coma ward? I admit I am sometimes pessimistic. And we are not crashed. It was all much worse. But I do not anticipate.
We boarded the balloon on a beautiful summer day, with majestic blue sky and a gorgeous curved, giant balloon, which was full to bursting prevented only by an anchor on the flight. My wife went with me and talked to me well, as we got with thirteen people in the basket. Eleven passengers, a captain and a renitenter pensioner who was towed from his family in the balloon. Also, a birthday gift.
already snapped the gas valve, the balloon was rising. We floated it, climbed higher and higher and soon reached cruising altitude. It was a glorious sight. It was mild, quiet, peaceful. The beautiful landscape below us, the sky above us. Everything could have been so nice ... Opa to be announced. He said only one sentence. And came as a Kartjusha rocket into a giant pudding. He said: "Damn it, where is actually my Imodium acute?"
Nothing else. And it was as if someone had kicked a record player, which until then nothing but fond Mozart had played. I looked down: 500 meters. At least. Just above the village. And how the devil would have it, is not a breeze stirred more.
Then - in the silence - a loud, hot and humid Sprotzen, as loud as the balloonist would have operated the burner. Had he not. To Grandpa formed a cloud of death, and they spread rapidly around. Do you know how many people on about half a Square feet can be? I tell them it's just twelve. Quickly became the whole balloon into dangerous imbalance. The captain gave orders to spread again in the square - a place in the middle but he had given up first.
"Down!" I screamed. "Buy land!" It was not. We floated on the built environment.
"Then rise! Go! Up there somewhere there must be jet streams. The 500 mph faster! "
" Until we have achieved, we are all dead, "said the captain.
"Good, then I'll throw Grandma on board."
You see, I was not going to Grandpa to throw overboard, but the old man replied immediately: An explosion of thunder in his pants, let us know that he was armed attacks against over very well. His eyes flashed angrily at me as if to say whether he would:'s only attempt, pal. Wherever it's coming from, there's a lot more.
As we stood still in the air, this beautiful balloon in solitary silence of a surrounding blue, and did we not give an inch. Twelve men on one side - one on the other. The pestilential stench was now completely encapsulated in the basket and the passengers as kittens, which are lifted by the neck, paralyzed. Only one had his clear joy in the drama: Grandpa. A devilish smile played around his mouth, and he whistled a march cheerfully, because he knew he was out of reach for violent attacks was. Now and then - out of pure malice - he was in position, only to immediately relax it again.
"God," whispered my wife, "What has just eaten?"
"No idea, but one thing is certain. It was very, very long dead before he has it purely pushed themselves"
"Now do it what! "
I looked over the basket. "Down there is ne fir. Willi said that there would be a good chance. "
" William also said . The Rolling Stones would be the American answer to the Beatles "
" Then we just stay here and die with dignity "
How long vegetated know I do not -. I think I'm in between times lost consciousness. But eventually we ended up after all. Twelve literally fell out of the balloon during a swaggered triumphantly from the basket. We would like to kill him, but no one knew whether he still had a load inside them or in the balloon just bluffed it.
His son and his wife picked him up. I heard her say: "Did you not say these things crash all the time?"
He whispered, "Next, we will take the U-boat trips on the Barents Sea. Rely on the Russians is ... "Then he spread his arms:" Well, Grandpa? How was the trip? Beautiful? "
0 comments:
Post a Comment