People often ask us: “So, how did you end up flying hot air balloons for a living?”
And every time we try to answer, we realize – this is not a one-sentence story. It’s a mix of romance, stubbornness, a touch of madness, and way too much coffee at 3 a.m.
But it all began in a way you’d never expect.
The day Daina first saw a balloon… and immediately climbed into one
Daina. One of the first flights. Velikiye Luki, Russia. 2016
2016. Not in Sigulda, not over the rooftops of Limbaži, but far away in Russia – at a hot air balloon competition where Daina somehow ended up, by chance or by fate. She had never seen a hot air balloon in real life before. And yet, on that very same day – she was already in the basket.
It was the “hardcore edition” of starting any hobby: high-speed flights, landings that made you cling to the basket like your sanity depended on it, mysterious flights through thick fog where you could barely see your own breath. And above all – the spirit of the crew, the work around the giant equipment, the sense of a bigger world opening up.
A few days later, Andis joined the story. Back then, love’s rose-colored glasses worked as GPS, magnet, and night-vision goggles all in one. And that’s when it really started – not as a hobby, but as a whole new life.
Daina and Andis. Few days later. Velikiye Luki, Russia.
The field that changed everything
One year later, we found ourselves in a completely different place – France, at Chambley, the biggest hot air balloon festival in Europe.
Everyone else was flying, and we stayed on the ground. There was a lump in our throats, tears in our eyes, and one crystal-clear thought in our minds: we will be pilots.
Field in Chambley, France. Near Planet air airfield. 2017.
The impossible dream (or so it seemed)
From the outside, it sounded insane. There was no pilot school to attend. Balloons cost as much as an apartment. COVID was knocking on the door. Everything pointed to “forget it, this dream is too high to reach.”
But we were stubborn. If one of us was ready to give up, the other lit the fire again. And somehow, step by step, we made it through.
We became pilots. Looking back now, that was just the first hill to climb. Because a pilot without a balloon is like a shoemaker with no shoes. You’ve got the license, but no craft to fly.
Where it led us?
So the next dream began: to have our own balloon, our own trailer, our first passengers, our own stories. To stand not only as spectators at festivals, but to rise into the sky as pilots ourselves.
Daina and Andis. Back in Chambley as pilots.
And today?
Today, when we lift passengers high above Latvia and Estonia, it’s hard to believe it all started with an accident in Russia and one meadow in France.
Dreams may look too big or too crazy at first. But it turns out – if you’re stubborn enough and keep your sense of humor, the sky actually likes it when you dare.
And so we continue – from one story to the next, from one dream to another.
Want to hear how we got our very first balloon and why we fly in Estonia too? That’s for the next blog post. 🚀
