The family
“Look,” Diane says, “we already do things as a family.”
Not much, I think. “Such as?”
“Me and the girls listen to the Today programme and talk about the news. They talk to me about school and friends and teacher angst. You don’t need to do corporate crap in a circus tent to be a family,” she says.
Bloody cynic. She has a point, though. I do stuff with the girls, too. We watch reality shows together. I go to the football with Maya, and run with Alix. We discuss the important things – will Kasper Schmeichel ever grow enough to be a grown-up goalkeeper, are the really bonkers X Factor contestants genuine?
The girls, though, can’t wait for the circus. Maya, 13, has been asking if she can go on the trapeze for weeks. Alix, 15, is determined to learn how to juggle.
Diane and I are dreading it. She asks if she can take her computer with her to do some work.
As for me, this is the kind of stuff I was so relieved to escape when gym was no longer compulsory at school. I can’t balance properly, can’t coordinate; if somebody says wiggle your big left toe, I’ll wiggle my little right toe, and not to be perverse. I can’t do forward rolls or backward rolls, and the circus just makes me think of grey former prime ministers trying to make themselves more colourful than they are. I’ve spent the past 30 years avoiding this kind of ritual humiliation.
The training
Bankers to the left of us, bankers to the right, here we are stuck in the middle of you. It’s a corporate day out for the banking world at the Circus Space in London. Everybody seems rather full of themselves (this is a good week, before the collapse of Northern Rock). Everybody wears a name tag and families split into groups of different colours. We are Pink2. The bankers josh around, pat each other on the back, and show little fear. They use Americanisms, even though most aren’t American. When their children achieve their goal, they say “Good job!”
First, we do an exercise in supporting each other. The instructors show us how to stand up from sitting position just using each other for support. The bankers manage it fine, but I almost break Diane’s back. I feel useless and ashamed of myself, just like at school. Next we do a human pyramid. Hurrah! I can do it because it requires no skill. Basically, we crouch and then smaller people sit on our backs, and even smaller people sit on their backs. Then we lift one hand up, wave and grin at the camera like chimps. Brilliant! I’m going to run off to the circus. A photograph shows Diane smiling. She doesn’t deny it. She says she enjoyed that. Good job!
The trapeze: We climb up a tall ladder. Maya goes second and has a mini semi-tearful panic. Then she’s up on the top, harnessed and swinging. I burst out crying. Now my turn – it kills my upper arms, but it is halfway exhilarating. A few weeks ago, the kids and I went to a rope park in Switzerland and walked and swung from great heights. I almost died with fright, but it has transformed us – if we’d not done that, I think the trapeze would have been fully exhilarating. Maya says it’s the best thing she’s ever done. Then she has a rethink and relegates it to the fifth best thing she’s ever done (recently).
The tightrope: It’s only a foot off the ground, and looks peasy-squeasy. The trainer holds a stick for us to balance as we walk, and it is peasy-squeasy. He tells Diane he can see that she goes to the gym because her balance is so good. She decides she likes this activity. When the trainer’s stick disappears, it becomes impossible. I’m going to break my ankle if I give it another go.
The static trapeze: A new trainer shows us how to put our legs through a trapeze then over our heads and back round our body. Or so it seems. The objective seems to be to hang backwards like a bat. This is the kind of thing you spend decades learning, and few people start in their mid-40s. Diane gets a migraine, I plummet to the ground.
Juggling: You juggle by imagining you’re throwing into the imaginary corners of an imaginary box while making a scooping action. Makes perfect sense to the bankers and the kids, but not to me. Diane thinks she has mastered it, but she’s almost as useless as I am. Alix is almost there and actually enjoying herself. Final activity, thank Christ, and I can already smell the sofa at home. All this has just reinforced my already considerable sense of inadequacy.
The circus may be great for young, supple families who have represented their country at the Olympics in gymnastics. As for uncoordinated inadequates such as me and Diane, I fear it’s too late for us to morph into acrobats. But Maya still thinks the trapeze is one of the best things she’s done in her life, and Alix is still practising her juggling.
Are we bonded, though? Are we buggery. Still, having done all that, we can relax. Diane can get a neck massage from the kids and discuss human rights, I can watch crap telly and ask the girls whether Louis Walsh was always going to come back to The X Factor. Now we’re back from the circus, we can settle down to real family activities.
Your turn
Circus Space is running family days between 2pm and 6pm during December 17-20. It costs £55 a head with a family ticket available for one adult and three children or two adults and two children for £200. Each child under 16 must be accompanied by an adult. The Circus Space, Coronet Street, London N1 6HD, 020-7729 9522 ext 231, www.thecircusspace.co.uk
Source: Read Full Article