Floating Over the Valley of the Kings

The pick-up is in the dark, the road is unlit, and for a moment you wonder about your choices. Then the balloon lifts, the city falls away below you, and the sun comes up over the river — and nobody on board speaks for a good five minutes.

There are few sights quite like seeing a hundred other balloons rise with you, each one drifting a little differently, all of them heading the same way: towards the hills where the tombs are.

What You'll See From Up There

The West Bank spreads out in stripes — green fields, then pale desert, then the mountains. Below you pass the villages and the workrooms where alabaster is still cut by hand, the ruins of the temples, and the valley entrances the size of a postage stamp from this height.

It's quiet up there, which surprises everyone. No engine, no road noise — just the occasional whoosh of the burner and the sound of the wind shifting.

How the Morning Goes

You'll be collected before dawn and driven to the launch field, where the balloons are already inflating, glowing from the inside. The flight lasts around forty-five minutes, landing somewhere in the fields with a small crowd of children running to help pull the ropes.

Afterwards, tea and a certificate, then the drive back across the river — with the whole day still in front of you for the temples and the tombs you just floated over.

For Brands & Stays

Few places give you a sunrise, a landscape and three thousand years of story in a single frame. Balloon content performs because it looks impossible — and because the people watching it can picture themselves exactly where you're standing.