This article is by Michael Lee and read by an artificial voice.

[GIVE IT A GO]

The first thing I noticed standing beneath the Seouldal balloon was how silent it was.

Aside from the faint rustling of the turning leaves in the surrounding trees, there was almost no sound in the wide expanse of Yeouido Hangang Park. Above me, the helium balloon - pale yellow and tethered to a steel rig - barely stirred in the wind. For a moment, it was easy to forget that I was in one of the largest cities in the world.

The Seouldal balloon - whose name means "Moon of Seoul" in Korean - rises from a rectangular park at the heart of Yeouido, the capital's financial district. Launched last year, the ride is part of the Seoul Metropolitan Government's ongoing effort to transform the Han River from a scenic divider into a vibrant public space.

When I first heard about Seouldal, I imagined something like the hot-air balloon from Jules Verne's 1872 novel, "Around the World in Eighty Days" - an untethered journey drifting across the city. In reality, Seouldal is a controlled, vertical ascent that lifts passengers 130 meters (427 feet) above one spot in western Seoul.

I arrived on a Tuesday afternoon in late October, just before 3 p.m., when the autumn air was clear and crisp like an apple. I would have preferred the softer morning light or the golden hour before sunset, but this was the only slot available when I checked the Seouldal reservation portal on Naver the week before.

Inside a small waiting room, an attendant confirmed my reservation and directed me to a payment kiosk. I had already made a 10,000-won ($7) deposit online, so all that remained was 15,000 won, payable by credit card on site. Then I took a seat facing a looping safety video. Soon, eight others joined me - among them, two tourists from Kyrgyzstan who chatted quietly in Russian.

Foreign language support can vary widely across Seoul's attractions, so I was pleasantly surprised to find informational brochures in the waiting room came in Korean, English, Chinese and Japanese. Safety instructions on the walls were also translated into all four languages. According to one attendant, reservations can be made not only through Naver, but also via travel sites like Klook and Booking.com, which are more familiar to foreigners. Tickets cost 25,000 won for adults and 15,000 won for children between the ages of 3 and 12. Children under three ride free.

When it was time to board, we were led to an outdoor seating area that the previous group had just vacated. Our pilot - every inch the aviator stereotype in his dark uniform, square jaw and black sunglasses - gave a concise safety briefing: hold the railing during takeoff and landing, no running and no sticking phones beyond the mesh. We were asked to leave heavier belongings in a camping wagon by the gate. Cameras are prohibited, an attendant later told me, "to prevent privacy infringement," so I carried only my smartphone aboard.

The gondola isn't the romantic wicker basket one might picture. It's a sturdy circular metal platform with netting and railings on all sides. The open center gave me clear view of the rig that controls the tether connecting the balloon to the ground. Once the pilot checked that everyone had a firm grip on the railing, we were ready.

The ascent was almost imperceptible. There was just a slight shudder of the gondola, which soon steadied as it left the ground entirely. The platform rose slowly, steadily, almost imperceptibly. The treetops dropped away, and landmarks that hadn't been visible from the park, like the turquoise dome of the National Assembly and the N Seoul Tower, appeared in the distance. The park below unfurled like a patchwork quilt, its reds, yellows and greens blending in the afternoon light.

Once the balloon reached its maximum height, the gondola gave another shudder, and then all that remained was the slight swaying from the breeze.

The curving Han River below shimmered with a metallic sheen, an...