Early Morning Musings

I woke up early today, earlier than a majority of the people here. This was strange within itself, as not only is the usually a thrum of activity at nearly every hour in the circus, not to mention the fact that if anybody’s going to be trying to sleep in as late as possible it’s usually me. It was still just dark when I woke, so I woke my way through the caravans and lorries slowly, the fresh smell of damp grass thick in the air, trying not to trip over objects nestled in the half-darkness. I meandered my way like this up to the area of grass where we had our bonfire last night. It was still smoking gently, the last few remaining embers glowing softly in the darkness, like fireflies hiding in the wood. I picked up a plank of wood from near it and stoked the fire, allowing it to crackle. I sat next to it on the damp ground and watched the sun rise. I swear to you there’s not a more beautiful sight in this whole world than the sun rising. The sky senses it before you can, turning from an inky black to indigo to a muted grey-blue before the tell tale yellow glow appears on the horizon. Then it all happens in a matter of minutes, the bright orb cresting the earth and rising up, burning through the murky clouds. As I sat there I let the smell of the earth wash over me, the smoky fire, the damp ground, and, floating across the grass, the smell of sausages and bacon wafting from the food van. I thought about last night. I was probably just being overprotective. Yes, that guy was being slimey, but there was no need for me to react like that. Alessandro was right, much as it pains me to admit it and lord knows he doesn’t need to know he was right – his head’s big enough as it is, but Aurelia needs to make her own mistakes. She’s a grown woman now, even if I still see her as that innocent little girl. And to be perfectly honest with myself, I’d probably try to pull the same moves as Jacob. I tried to forget about it. Act like nothing had happened if anyone asked. Say I was just worked up after the show with all the adrenaline and testosterone and that mixing that with wine probably wasn’t the best idea for someone who doesn’t really drink.

The sun was well above the ground now, its sphere full of the fire of a new day. It reminded me of the myths Mama used to tell me as a kid, Greek or Roman or Pagan I can never remember, of the man in the chariot pulling the sun across the sky. I can see how it wasn’t so far fetched for them to think that. It did almost look like the sun was being pulled across the sky by some godly force. It was certainly a hell of a lot more plausible to think that than to think that this massive earth which felt so static was actually turning underneath our feet. I heard somebody call my name softly and so I stood up quickly and the colours bounced in front of my eyes, splitting then slowly fusing back together again and for a second it was as if I could feel the earth’s rotation, I could feel that I was spinning round on a ball of rock, floating through space, endless and infinite. I turned once my head had settled to find the source of the call.

Aurelia was walking towards me, only a couple of meters away. I took a step towards her.

“Hey, listen, I’m sorry about last night. Y’know the adrenaline and wine must have got to me,” she cut me off with a shake of her head.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you. I spoke to Alessandro later, he explain that you were just doing the big brother routine. I get it,” she smiled at me, the gentle light of the new day made her skin look pale, her round face like the moon. At least it would be if the moon had those eyes, cheekbones, button nose and pouting lips.

“You do? Because I was a...” I struggled to find the words “a total wanker, to be honest...” she laughed.

“Honestly, I get it. More than you think. Don’t you think I felt the same when you’d go off into the towns? You were still only 16 when you started. Don’t you think I was worried about you?” she played with a strand of her lions hair.

I never would have thought of that. That’s she’d be worried about me. I guess I thought she was always just too young, too naive to think about the bad things that could happen.

“I... I didn’t. To be honest I never even thought. Sorry,” I looked to the ground and scuffed me foot into the soft earth.

“Hey. Listen. We both made mistakes. You didn’t think and I thought too much,” she reached out and touched my arm gently, just as I had done to her last night, and like before all the tension melted.

After that we just went to get breakfast. I had a quick shower before heading off into town. It was just down to me and Freddie to draw the crowds today, Mama and Papa had other jobs to do. We managed to catch the end of the businessman rust and most of the school kids. Think we sold a decent number of tickets. I’m writing this in a cafe. A couple of people mistook us for buskers and tossed money at us, not much, but enough to buy me a coffee to warm my numb fingers and Freddie a soup. The weather looks like it’s turning a bit, what started out as a beautiful day is greying over a bit. People will still be out on the streets though, and while they I, we need to be too. I’d better finish this before it gets too cold and get back to work.

Best wishes and I hope you enjoyed the show!

Remember, Remember...

The show was incredible tonight! We haven’t performed since last Thursday, which is really strange for us as usually we’d perform Wednesday through Saturday, pack up Sunday travel Monday and Tuesday ready to perform Wednesday again, but because of the way Halloween and Guy Fawkes fell on the calendar we’ve had strange weeks. Got such a buzz tonight though!

It’s hard to explain how I feel when I perform. My heart is beating so fast in my chest as I get announced and then I’m tossing balls and batons and I just go into this zone. I can feel my blood in my veins, feel it carrying the oxygen to my limbs. Everything has an increased intensity. I can smell the warm saw dust we put down on the floor, feel the grains of it in the air as they tickle my throat comfortingly, taste them on my tongue. When I throw fire the crowd vanishes and all I can see is the bright lights, orange and yellow, dancing in front of me, swirling through the air. My hands have been burnt so many times by them in training that I hardly notice the heat from them anymore, hardly notices when it singes my hair on my arms apart from the smell of burning hair that mingles with the smoke. The smoke is acrid, like burning plastic, but I enjoy the feel of it pouring down my nose and into my lungs - which have long grown accustomed to its stench. When I was younger I used to have a cough for days after fire-throwing, but now it’s like I’m breathing pure air. I used to come on at the end of Mama and Papa’s set, but now it’s them who come on at the end of mine. Most of the time they just set me up, but for the final five minutes we’re all on stage, tossing innumerable objects to one another, making them dance through the air. Because its bonfire night we put on an extra special finish. We get thin batons which we light up so their almost like extra thick sparklers and we toss them rapidly between us to spell out, letter by letter, REMEMBER. When they get extinguished and the light come back us on us the roar of the crowd joins with the blood pounding past my ears in my veins, lighting me up like the batons.

It was something special.

Everyone else was amazing too, as always. Eta and Artem got a huge round of applause after their spectacular routine, Bruno and his lions were watched in almost total silence apart from shocked gasps that could’ve sucked the air out of the Big Top. Bella and Viviane the two lead contortionists/gymnasts wowed everybody. The clowns Hani, Gale and Anna did a brand new hilarious sketch in which they attempted to blow up a model parliament with disastrous consequences that had the crowd falling off out of their seats clutching their sides it was so funny. Aurelia, Thalia and Zayn performed one of the most dramatic routines I’ve ever seen as they rode around – it was mesmerising watching them atop the horses. Overall it was one of our best shows to date.

Afterwards we stood round a huge bonfire that had been set up earlier in the day whilst I was out getting customers and had burgers and sausages and marshmallows cooked over it. Monsieur Loyal made a small speech, as he sometimes does on special occasions, to all of us and the few show goers who had decided to stick around. I always remember his speeches, and this one was no different.

“My fellow circus-folk, my companions, mes amis, my trusted friends and” he nods to the huddle of customers “my highly respected guests. I would like to congratulate you on a parfait show tonight. Simply beautiful. Tres bon, no? We had a good crowd, best we’ve had since summer. And it is on this note that I would like to comment. Saul, his beautiful Lois, their son Tobias and, of course, young Fredrick, always do a sublime job, and tonight was no exception” he pauses to allow the gathering to applaud and pride swells in my chest “however,” he continues “however, we are now entering our toughest season of the year. The beauty of autumn is now fading, the fire that hangs from the trees will soon have poured to the ground and its puddles will soon be extinguished by the stroke of Jack Frost. We all know that winter is a hard time for us and though summer was reasonable it was by no means outstanding. Winter will be hard this year. We will all need to pull our weight and to tighten our belts if we want to survive it. I do not want to have a repeat of 2008,” in 2008 we had to sell our Rhino and Monsieur Loyal has never forgiven himself for it, not to mention the fact that a couple of performers either dropped out or, worse still, changed circus. “I want to be standing here this time next year with you all in front of me, I want to be giving a speech extolling our many virtues. I am so proud of you all, and we need to last this winter together. By no means will it be easy. It’ll be cold, yes; we will be hungry, yes. But we will pull through. Together. We always stick together. For better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness as in health we STICK TOGETHER. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. If we become weak, we will break and if we break we will not survive this winter. I love you all as my own family. You are my family. I care a great deal about each and every one of you, but I care more about us. About us as a circus. I know we can survive this winter,” he pauses and we look to each other, reaching out, holding hands. “Now!” he cries, taking a sip of his mulled wine “I can’t hear any music!”

The band struck up and I looked across through the fire and made eye contact with Aurelia. I smiled at her and made my way around the fire to talk to her, it felt like ages since we’d last been able to have a conversation.

“Hello, Toby,” she smiled, her saucer eyes staring into mine, that strange guard still held in them, the guard I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“Hello, Lelia” I said touching her arm, using my pet name for her. She giggled and didn’t shrug me off, the peculiar tension dissipating.

“You were fantastic tonight,” she nodded sincerely and I felt the pride swell in my chest again.

“Don’t, what with you and Monsieur Loyal I’ll be getting a big head!” I laughed “It goes without saying that you were incredible, you always are. The way you connect with that horse, it’s like he’s part of you,”

“Thank you, Toby,” she bent her head down at the compliment and peered at me through her thick lashes. Was that the heat from the fire on her face, or was she blushing? I smiled at her, and sipped my wine, its warmth filling me from the inside, making my skin tingle.

“You were incredible,” another voice came from behind me, a strange voice. I turned round and there was a boy standing there, staring straight at Aurelia. He was shorter than average, I’d say no more than five foot eight, but well built. He had thick dark hair and brows and large lips. His eyes were bright blue though, not the same blue as hers, which were a sometimes almost turquoise, but a true blue, the colour of royal blood. His features were almost too perfect, too symmetrical. And the way he was staring at Aurelia... it made me feel uneasy. I wasn’t jealous, more... protective. Lelia’s been like my sister. It was obvious why he would want to stare at her – she was looking beautiful in the firelight. It danced off her skin, the shadows falling in just the right places that it enhanced her soft cheekbones and made her eyelashes extend up into her brow. But even so. It wasn’t right to be so ostentatious about it.

“Thank you,” she smiled at him.

“My name’s Jacob” he extended his hand to her and as she took it lifted hers to his lips. Aurelia actually blushed this time and said her name.

“I’m Tobias,” I burst out, thrusting my hand between him and Aurelia. He took it genially, but barely made eye contact with me before he began to talk to her again.

“How long have you been riding for?”

“Since I could walk,” she muttered, flustered by his attention. Aurelia didn’t like coming into the cities with us after the show and everyone here treated her like family, so she wasn’t used to it.

“I’ve always wanted to know how to. Maybe you could teach me?”

The tone of his voice was repellent, the words slid around his tongue, oozing out of his fat lips. I visibly shuddered, thankful that it was cold enough for me to pass off as a shiver.

“Well we’re only here for a couple of days, so I doubt she’d really have time...” I interjected. Aurelia shot a glance at me. I’d hardly ever seen her look that way before, only once or twice in her life. She wasn’t angry, as such, but she wasn’t happy. I could understand why.

“Toby!” she gasped “I could probably find an hour to teach Jacob to ride if he was really keen to give it a shot,” she turned and smiled at him.

Wait, she was angry at me? For trying to protect her from this scumbag? I knew she was naive, I knew she didn’t understand what he really meant, but seriously?

“Sorry, I just thought... anyway... I’ll speak to you later then I guess...” I needn’t have bothered; neither of them were listening to me anymore. I wandered away and sat down over the other side of the fire. I didn’t mean to, but I ended up watching them, trying to read their lips as they spoke, but pretty soon they turned away.

Alessandro sat down with me.

“I see Aurelia’s got a new friend...” he started. I turned to him with a look of contempt.

“Don’t get me started on him. That scumbag is only out for one thing and he’s not hiding. Aurelia’s just too naive to see it...”

“I knew it...” Alessandro smirked.

“Knew what?” I wasn’t in the mood for his games.

“I knew that you liked her...”

That took me by surprise, and I sat up to face him.

“Me? Like Aurelia? As if? Come on, man, you know she’s like my sister! My kid sister!” I scoffed.

“I can see the way you’re looking at them. You can’t stand him being close to her,”

“Damn right I can’t! Don’t you want to protect her too? Don’t you hate the way that creep is looking at her?”

“Course I want to protect her, but she’s gotta learn at some point. And he’s probably not so bad. Don’t look at me like that. You’ve said what? Five words to the guy? Give him a chance. If you really care about Aurelia - as a sister that is - you’ll let her make her own mistakes. He might even be good for her. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when you start to feel all broken hearted...”

He left me alone by the fire again. I raged with the flames. How could he say I liked Aurelia? It is ridiculous. I’m still fuming about it now, truth be told. He’s hardly spoken to me for the last month, then he comes out with this? I don’t want to be angry at him, but at least it’s taking my mind off all the things I’ll do to that dick Jacob if he messes with Lelia...

I hate being angry. Which, obviously, only makes me more furious. I just couldn’t stand the way he looked at her, like he was undressing her in his mind. It was disgusting. I know she’s twenty now, but she’s still just a young girl, really. She doesn’t know what it means when a guy looks at you in that way. Maybe Alessandro’s right though... she’s got to learn at some point... I just don’t want to see her hurt. I can’t think straight. We don’t get to drink all that often and the wine has gone to my head. I should probably try and sleep it off – see if I can think straight in the morning...

Night, and I hope you enjoyed the show!

My Place In My World

I figure I should probably tell you a bit about what I did yesterday (and today), as it is a pretty big part of what I actually do, both in the circus and as in my life.

 (Although some would argue the two are one in the same. I’m yet to decide if I feel like I have a life outside the circus. I want one, I think, but I can’t imagine a life without the circus. I can’t imagine a static life. I need movement, I need change, I need mutability. I need to be able to come and go as I please. I need to be unattached to physical locations. For the most part the circus gives me that. It gives me the freedom to explore and see the world. And it gives me familiarity too. Which is nice amongst the change. To have a constant that follows me with it. I understand that is somewhat contradictory, to crave stasis amongst change, but I think it’s true for everyone. We all want something familiar to follow us through new and different experiences, places and things. But, there’s still this part of me that wonders what would it be like to live a normal life? To live in one place. To have a job, in the traditional sense. To own a house, a car, to have a wife and two point four children and/or a pet. To have grown up through the school system, playing football down the street. Little things that I read about or see in films and on the television that I’ll never have. I guess I’m just curious, really, to see how things could have been different. Anyway, that was a slightly longer aside than I originally intended, but it just made me think, you know?)

You see, my family and I get sent ahead of the rest of the circus - either a day or two ahead or we go out whilst their setting up – and we stand on street corners and perform. It’s our job to tantalise a crowd, to show them our skills and to make them wonder what else we can do. Freddie and his dad used to come with us, but now Freddie does it on his own. Like I said (wrote?) yesterday, I’ve never met a more charismatic kid, and it’s his job to turn a watching crowd into an audience big enough to fill a Big Top. We set him up, we have to pick a space where a large volume of people will walk past, say a high street or something, but we’ve also got to pick a space where we can get in the way. A space where if ten or fifteen people stop, they block enough of the way so other people who want to get through have to slow down and maybe stop and watch too. Although, we can’t pick a too smaller space, or else we won’t have enough room to perform and there won’t be enough space for a crowd to gather. It’s pretty technical stuff, actually (he says, lying).

Anyway. So we draw the crowds, we perform a small set, mostly just throwing batons around and if anybody in the crowd has anything weighty enough to throw we’ll toss that around a bit. We’d throw knives and fire if the councils would allow us – we’ve tried it a couple of times but the police always notice and intervene, so it’s not really worth it. I do a small act on a unicycle and mama and papa have this crazy routine all worked out that they’ve been performing since they were my age. Whilst we’re doing this, Freddie will walk round the crowd handing out leaflets and selling tickets. His is the harder job – it’s pretty easy to get somebody (or even a group of some bodies) to stand around for five, maybe even ten minutes, watching me chuck around balls and batons and purses, but it’s a damn sight harder to get that person to cough up a tenner to watch a show. Freddie’s job is to make it seems a worthwhile amount of money. To be honest, as it is we need tickets to be at least a tenner a go to break even with the crowds we’re pulling, especially at this time of year. As I’ve said, I don’t know how anybody can refuse Freddie, once he starts on the charm offensive – I’ve picked up some of my best moves watching him pull the crowds, but it can be a struggle to fill the tent.

So that’s how I’ve spent the past two days, standing on a street corner/ down a high street, freezing my balls off (get it? as in both juggling balls and my actual balls). So, life in the circus isn’t all fun and games. We’ve got our first show of the week tonight though. It’s strange that we’re performing on a Monday, usually we wouldn’t bother, but as its Guy Fawkes Night too we’ve made a bit of a theme of it and are holding a bonfire party afterwards for the crowd. Figure we can pull a few more people that way. I should probably go an practise (not like I haven’t been practising all day or anything, but Monsieur Loyal hates it if we even get one throw off, and you do not want to be on the wrong side of him, no matter what day of the week it is), but I’ll try to update on the evening performance before I turn in for the night. It should be one to remember.

Au revoir, best wishes, and I hope you enjoyed the show!

On Russian Fights and Best Friends

Hello again! Sorry I didn’t get to update yesterday – there was a minor spat between Eta and Artem (the two trapeze artists) which kicked off around midday and didn’t really calm down again till gone twelve. It all started last week sometime when Eta didn’t feel that Artem had caught her safely and swears blind that he’s damaged her shoulder because of it. Artem, of course, is denying it all, saying that she swung dodgy and he did the best he could – if anything he saved her life by catching her and it is only through his un-measurable talent that she didn’t plummet to her death. Everything had been building up since them and sticking them in a caravan together for three days probably didn’t ease the situation much. Things boiled over today when Artem forgot to offer Eta a cup of tea this afternoon. They’ve made up now, which is just as well, as when Artem and Eta are fighting EVERYONE knows it. I should probably mention that Eta and Artem are twins. When they fight, they fight BIG TIME, and it’s very loud and very scary and usually involves a lot of garbled Russian. Artem said he’d teach me some Russian at one point, but he mostly just taught me chat up lines and swear words. I could pick out a couple of the swear words in their argument – and believe me it was not pleasant! When they are on the same side, though, do not cross them, they’ll stick up for one another with a Russian ferocity and where one goes the other will follow. I guess that’s what’s makes them so good on the trapeze. They’ve got an unspoken connection between them, a mirroring of minds and a complete trust in one another. When they work together they move like a shadow. It’s what makes them so spectacular to watch, to see these two tiny people up thirty maybe forty feet in the air swinging from bar to bar, somersaulting and catching one another’s hands and legs... it takes your breath away it really does. Even for me, even though I’ve seen their act so many times I can hardly count, it’s something else to watch them perform. I think it’s because their act is unique in the sense that it relies so heavily on somebody else. That’s why Eta got so mad at Artem in the first place. If he had caught her dodgy, he could have ended both of their careers, and maybe even Eta’s life. Monsieur Loyal runs a very traditional circus. There are no fake acts here. If Artem hadn’t caught Eta perfectly she could easily have dropped those thirty, forty feet. We don’t have a safety net. That would have been it for her. I mean, it’s not like there aren’t other double acts in the circus, or even that there aren’t any team performers. Mama, Papa and I are all a team. But if one of us misses a baton then it doesn’t stop the other two from catching theirs. If one of us throws a duff shot then it’s on the person who threw it. Even with the knife and fire acts, we each know how to handle it if a dodgy throw heads our way. But a dodgy pass from Artem or Eta and it’s game over.

But they’re best of friends again now – which is a relief for us all. Artem and Eta aren’t that much older than me – they’re twenty nine this winter, so I’m pretty close to them. There aren’t that many circus folk who are my age. There are a couple of kids who are just starting out, and there’s Anastasia who’s just turned thirteen (and don’t we all know about it). Other than that, there me, Freddie, Alessandro and Aurelia. Freddie’s just younger than me, he’s just turned eighteen, but he’s a cool kid. I say kid – I guess technically he’s an adult now, but we’re all big kids here in the circus anyway. He’s one of the most charismatic guys I’ve ever spoken to – right from when he was but a babe he could get away with anything. He works the tickets like me – drawing people in. Aurelia is twenty and a bare-back rider. She’s very quiet, but has these huge saucer eyes which are the most stunning blue – the colour of the sea in summer, deep blue puddles in her face that glint in the sun. Her hair is big and blonde, like a lion’s mane. She looks just like a china doll – petite but perfect. Alessandro is older than me – he’s twenty four. He’s the son of Bruno, the Lion Tamer, so he thinks’ he’s all that. We used to be like two peas in a pod – I’d follow him everywhere. It’d be him as the leader and me, Aurelia and (eventually) Freddie would hang to his every word, obey his every command. But then something weird happened between him and Lelia and we kind of split up. Lelia turned even quieter after that happened. We still get on, and sometimes it’s just like the old days, but something’s not quite right anymore.

It’s hard to grow up with the circus. There are loads of great parts – no school (well, at least not in the traditional sense), you get to see the world, you’ve got this really close nit family around you... but... Your life is played out in front of the fifty or so people you live with. There’s no escape. You can hardly have a moment alone. And don’t get me started on girls. You can never be anything but a fling, nothing more than a one night stand, because who wants a relationship with somebody whose life is dictated by his work – who can be in one place one day and three hundred miles away the next?

Woah, that got a little serious there... lets back track a sec. I thought this whole “just write about your life and see what happens” thing would be easy, but I’ve been sat here typing this for what feels like forever and I’ve still got to finish my closing down jobs and I haven’t even written about my actual day yet! Maybe tomorrow, eh?

If anybody has any questions about my life that you want me to answer specifically then just leave them in the comments or email me at tobyisajuggler (at) gmail (dot) com. I’d love to hear from you and it might even give me a bit of direction!

As always, au revoir , best wishes and I hope you enjoyed the show!

Bonjour Madame et Monsieur, Ladies and Gentlemen, Le Garçons et La Fille, Handsome Boys and Fair Maidens!

I don’t really know how else to start. That’s how Monsieur Loyal introduces the show every night. I guess I could start with a hello? So hi. I’m a guy, 22, six foot three and pretty well built because of the work I do. I’ve got the sort of skin that looks tanned but is mostly just really freckly. If I didn’t spend so much time outside I’m sure I’d be pale as hell. I’ve got this fiery hair that’s pretty cool – it’s this burnt orange colour and its sticks up and out of my head, like gravity doesn’t have any effect on it. My eyes are mostly a greeny-brown colour, but they’ve got an amber ring right around the pupil. Mama tells me they are like the trees in autumn, they never know what colour to be but they are filled with fire and are beautiful. Mama has got a way with words – she can make anybody feel special when she talks. That’s her true talent.

What else? My name. I’m Toby. Nice to make your acquaintance. 

Although that’s not strictly true – not the bit about meeting you, I’m sure you’re lovely, but the bit about my name. You see, my real name is Tobias Horatio Xavier Ragatz, and my stage name doesn’t really belong to just me but my family. Together we’re the Ragatz Family Jugglers. So, just Toby will do fine.

I live with a circus... and trust me there’s no easy way to say that. It’s not the sort of thing that you can drop into a conversation, and every time I tell people I get roughly the same reaction – a puzzled/awestruck look followed by an “oh wow”. And then the questions start...

How long have you lived in a circus? All my life; Did your parents run away with the circus? No they were born into it, Are they jugglers too? Yep. Every generation of my family back a hundred or so years has been jugglers.

What’s it like living in a circus?

Now, that last question is always the hardest to answer. Which is why I’m writing this, I guess. You see, it changes every day. Some days it’s the most wonderful thing. You wake up in the morning and you’re in this community who all live and breathe together. You know when you step out of the door somebody you care about will be there to say hi. You know your routine, you know exactly where you belong in the world – and, from what I can tell from watching various TV shows, not many 22 year old guys can say that about themselves. You get to be with all these amazing creatures, elephants, zebras, lions, and interact with them knowing that they know you and are happy and cared about. You can hang out with the most fantastically talented guys who know how to dance on a rope suspended in the air as if they were walking along the ground, guys who can make you roar with laughter just by fooling around, guys who can make lions roar and obey their every command. And all the women are beautiful. They can contort their bodies into the most fabulous positions, they can swing from bar to bar thirty, forty, fifty foot in the air, they can hang from ribbons that spiral down from the ceiling. And everyone respect you because you can do something they can’t. You can throw objects into the air and they’ll find your hands again as if they were magnetised. You can play with knives and fire and know it’ll never hurt you. You can thrill an audience by standing in one spot.

But other day’s it isn’t so fun. These are mostly the travelling days, when you wake up in the back of an old caravan that you still share with your parents, because you haven’t earned enough to buy your own, in a bed that’s six inches too short and all the padding is flat from 22 years worth of sleeps. When you’ve got to do your chores on the move, sluicing out the elephant carriage whilst driving down a motorway, trying to avoid the rivets of dung and the huge creature inside who can’t predict when the van is going to stop or start or corner. When you’re stuck for hours on end inside a vehicle with the most arrogant people in the world, who all want to show off their amazing talents that you’ve seen a thousand times before. When you can’t be alone and just sit and think because something crazy is going on.

Yeah, those days kind of suck.

So, I guess that’s what I’ll be talking about on here. Don’t expect a post a day, but I’ll try to post as often as I can get wifi (internet cafes, libraries, stealing other people’s internet as we drive by and what not) and I’ll try to write something every day. Living on the move is kind of crazy, but living in a circus? I think that’s about as crazy as you can get...

I’ll try to post later about my day – but I make no promises! Things can turn from boring to mental in a matter of seconds here! Either way, I’ll write again just as soon as I can, and, as Monsieur Loyal always ends,

Au revoir! I hope you enjoyed the show!