Begin with trepidation...
This big kid is in her thirties and was feeling a fair amount of trepidation as our group crowded round to hear about the surreal activity we had signed up for.
We grabbed helmets not dissimilar to those on a building site, except these were wet and smelled of cleaning chemicals. This was my first clue that things were going to get a bit sweaty.
We were then led through the damp and gloomy mines, ducking so not to hit our heads – the helmet wasn’t just a fashion accessory. Things got darker and colder the deeper we went.
Eventually we came into a huge cavern, which was ringing with noise like a crowded swimming pool on a weekend morning. I gazed up at the massive nets hanging suspended from the ceiling, illuminated with muted neon lights.
After another safety talk, which was mostly about not double bouncing the kids, and taking the chutes (which I planned to avoid altogether) one person at a time, we were ushered across the walkway.
From here we entered the practice zone, a quiet area where excited ten-year-olds bowled passed me to get to the good bit.
As I wobbled from foot to foot, clinging to the netting at the side, I wondered if my day wouldn’t be better spent in a coffee shop somewhere warm. With a solid floor.
A drunk on a bouncy castle
Taking a deep breath, I launched myself through the gap and into the first zone.
It was almost impossible to stand and bounce in one spot as the trampoline heaved and pitched beneath my feet. As I bounced I was propelled from one side of the net to the other, not unlike a drunk on a giant bouncy castle. It was very, very fun.
Trying to jump as high as possible, I went with it and tried, not very successfully, to stay on my feet. Before long I was exhausted and slightly hysterical, begging very small children to go and double bounce someone else.