Look Again

The flyer said something about juggling and the circus, and I was too tired to read it properly. So when we showed up and there was no circus, you might guess I was a little disappointed.

I asked the info desk. There were two ladies wearing quirky glasses and a very tall, very thin man in a black suit. They all talked in turns, completing each other’s sentences. A circus, you say? What, do you mean the flea market? There’s the circus flea market, that’s all. No other circus here.

They pointed us to their left.

We entered a door saying “Do not wander through.” It was an art gallery, so that seemed a bit odd.

We wandered through it and eventually found a door leading out, and another leading in again. We were greeted by a group of elderly jesters but they weren’t juggling, so we didn’t stop. Our kids waved. The air was humid and we were sweaty.

Up some floors we went, and other kids were coming down, so it looked promising. And then we found the circus. Or actually, its wardrobe.

Green sparkly hats, furry bags, cute piggy heads, an astronaut suit. A family was carrying a large dragon head out, looking absolutely elated. I imagined it decorating a very happy kid’s bedroom.

A girl walked past us with lights blinking from her head and right there, after the wigs and scarves, nestled under a table in a tiny corner with theatre red walls, was a box full of monster masks.

“Mummy, mummy! I want this one! No, this one!

“No.”

“Daddy, I want this one!”

“Yes!”

And so, 6 euros poorer and two Dracula masks and one demon mask richer, we headed into a dark room where a pig stamped my lottery ticket, a rat cheered on the pig that was doing such a good job stamping, and a nice lady served pop corn.

I hope we win those tickets to see the circus.

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