Hot Air Ballooning over Teotihuacan

I had an extremely early start and was the first one to arrive at the meeting point. Little by little, other guests—looking at least as sleepy as I felt—started to appear, blinking into the morning like they weren’t entirely sure what time zone they were in.

On the way there, I managed to sleep a bit in the van, and by the time we reached the hot air balloon site it was still pre-dawn. The sky had that deep blue-black hush that only exists right before the world turns itself on.

Before anything else, we were weighed for balloon balance calculations, which made me unexpectedly nervous. As a plus-size traveler, there’s always that quiet moment of wondering if this will be the time something becomes complicated or awkward.

But nothing like that happened. No fuss, no comments—just a quick check and we moved on. Relief settled in immediately, and I could finally focus on what I was actually here for.

Outside, the balloons were being inflated, enormous shapes slowly coming to life in the half-light. The burners roared in sudden bursts, flames lighting up the inside of the fabric like glowing lungs. Around them, excited chatter, nervous laughter, and plenty of selfies.

Then came the moment I’d been vaguely bracing for: climbing into the basket.

I tried to do it gracefully—one hand on the edge, upper body leaning in first, then swinging my legs over like I had done this a hundred times before. In reality, it was absolutely not graceful. But somehow I ended up inside, which felt like a victory in itself.

And then—lift-off.

The ground softened beneath us as we rose into the morning air, drifting silently over the landscape as the first light of day spread across everything below.

We floated over Teotihuacan like a map unfolding beneath us.

First we passed over the Sun Pyramid, the largest structure in the ancient city, rising out of the morning haze with quiet dominance. Then we drifted toward the smaller Moon Pyramid at the end of the Avenue of the Dead, the entire ceremonial axis stretching out beneath us in perfect geometry.

At one point, we even saw nearby Popocatépetl volcano cough up a plume of smoke into the morning sky—a reminder that the landscape below was very much alive, thousands of years of history laid out beneath us.

Then came the descent.

We dropped faster than expected, the ground rising up in uneven fields. The landing crew ran alongside us, grabbing the edges of the basket and guiding us down as we touched the earth again.

The basket rocked more than I expected, and for a moment it felt like we might tip. I laughed—probably slightly unhinged at that point—as I held onto the edge and tried to keep my balance.

Once we were safely down, we celebrated with apple cider (no champagne, unfortunately), which somehow felt exactly right for the kind of morning it had been—bright, surreal, and just a little bit unreal in the best possible way.Read more