When I turned 21 I was given an amazing present - a balloon flight. There was space in the basket for 4 so I had the pleasure (pressure, I mean pressure) of choosing 3 lovely people to fly with - if you've ever been in the enviable position of having to choose which of your nearest and dearest gets a special (paid for) treat you'll understand.
In the end I chose 3 people who lived close and had never had the opportunity to hop in a balloon before. But between work commitments, availability of the balloon, a small geographical divide (my fault for upping sticks to West Yorkshire) and the good old British weather, plans were made...and undone, made again and, you guessed it - fell through.
The 1 year window to fly came and went before we knew it. I worried that we'd missed the balloon-boat (sorry!). But my mum and dad had other ideas. The present was from my parents and my dad made it his business to keep trying. He never gave up, passing plans to and fro to make sure we all knew when an opportunity opened up. Try as he might, nothing came off. We almost made it into the basket several times but the opportunities in Lancashire were scarce - just a few months of reliably (-ish) good weather each year.
Drum roll please...