Just back: Flying high over the Dordogne A few days later we are part of the balloon's wicker basket population. A thunder storm blows from nowhere, threatening to scupper our voyage. It lasts little more than an hour and it's warm and dry again as we wait for our ride among the box hedges of Château de Monrecour. In a flurry of excitement, a giant wicker basket is hoicked off a trailer, volunteers are plucked from the expectant crowd to hold open the gaping balloon while flames flare from cylindrical nostrils and giant fans blast air into its belly. We are quickly taught how to brace for the landing, then with the hot fire scorching our backs we lift up and away without a stomach lurch in sight. Cars pull over on the road to watch our bird-emblazoned silhouette float out into the evening. We brush gently over the tops of trees and crops, their bristling leaves the only sounds in this weightless peace; a carpet of sunflowers rustle with life as we gaze at their sun-facing heads from this unusual perspective. Sinking inches above the glassy waters of the river, we then rise higher and higher until for the first time in days of heatwave we feel cool air at 2,000 metres. A striking panorama pans for miles in every direction: a collage of turreted chateaux, tree-lined avenues, cerulean swimming pools, undulating green hills and acres of extraordinarily unspoilt land. Families dining al fresco in the balmy summer night wave while children chase us with shouts of "bonjour!" and lemony scents imbue the air. After an hour of dipping and climbing seemingly effortlessly, marvelling from our bird's-eye view over Cyprus trees, duck farms and pretty French villages, we come to land gently in a field next to a campsite. Out run the occupants to greet us with wide-eyed wonder, as if a bunch of celebrities had just dropped out of the sky. It's like the wise Winnie the Pooh once said, "Nobody can be uncheered with a balloon." Email your entry, in as close to 500 words as possible (with the text in the body of the email itself rather than attached), to justback@telegraph.co.uk by midnight on Wednesday August 14.