Walking the Tightrope: Bird's Eye View
"I began to wish I'd stayed in the lakeside restaurant drinking cafe-au-lait and reading yesterday's papers...'' Sally Codman tackles a climbing-adventure circuit.
It's a well-known fact that circumstances alter cases and a decision on whether a ball is in or out often depends on where you're standing around the court.
Differing viewpoints were something I found myself taking a renewed interest in, as I perched precariously on a couple of branches some twenty feet off the ground and wondered just what I'd let myself in for.
From the safety of 'terra firma' the adventure circuit in the leisure 'parc' in the French Alps looked like a piece of cake - or at least a fun sort of way to keep the family amused during an afternoon of our holiday.
From terra firma the narrow branches I was perched on looked like broad platforms a mere ten feet up in the leafy treetops. The cable slides through the trees and across a lake looked like great fun and the wobbly rope bridges were things that other people fell off.
From my perch up in the first tree the bird's eye view changed everything! Someone had moved the goal posts, probably when I was concentrating on climbing the netting-ladder, which looked so easy to shin-up when other people were doing it.
Red and panting I clung to the relative safety of the first 'platform' and wondered how it had magically shrunk, who had highered the whole course while my back was turned and how I was ever going to summon the courage to launch myself down the cable-slide that disappeared into the treetops ahead.
As Mr C was grounded with a stomach bug, and amusing himself by taking embarrassing photos of us from below, it dawned on me that I was supposed to be the responsible adult in charge of our climbing adventure group. That really was a laugh, as out of the four of us I'd got the least experience of climbing activities. The kids had the benefit of school activity holidays and Only Son had the experience of frequently climbing a variety of trees and tree houses.
As the kids shouted at me to get a move on, as I was blocking up the whole course, I looked down in confusion at the professional-looking climbing 'belt' I was fitted out with, complete with leg-loops and a bewildering number of loops and clippy-things that I was supposed to hook on and off red or black cables in a certain order.
On the practise course (just a couple of feet off the ground) it had all seemed ridiculously easy. Once you were up in the treetops, and suffering from a sudden attack of altitude sickness, it was easy to confuse which clip went where. Opening and shutting the clips was made much more difficult by the fact that we were all wearing what appeared to be ill-fitting gardening gloves to prevent burning our hands as we attempted to slow ourselves down as we grabbed the cables.
I began to wish I'd stayed in the lakeside restaurant drinking café-au-lait and reading yesterdays papers. I began to wish I'd paid more attention to what the handsome young climbing instructor with the golden tan, brown curls and seductive French-accented English had been saying about the climbing clips, instead of watching where his hands were as he adjusted Eldest Daughter's climbing gear.
Eventually, after a bit more gentle 'encouragement' from the kids - along the lines of 'Don't be such a wuss Mum' and 'Are you going to dither there all day?' I finally remembered what went where, took a deep breath and launched myself from the platform and down the cable.
Great- I even squeezed through the gap in the trees without becoming hopelessly stuck. Great - that was until I stopped a few yards short of the next platform and had to swing upside down and pull myself along hand-over-hand to reach the next ledge.
Determined not to get stuck half-way over the lake slide I kicked-off with much more determinedly, accompanied by Tarzan-like yells from Only Son, only to find that the lake slide was much steeper and I landed with a bruising thud on the next platform.
I'd just about got the hang of the climbing-adventure circuit, safety clips and all, when I realised it was over and it only remained to nip down the last netting-ladder to the ground. Safely back on the grass, watching the rest of the family cope with the last few obstacles, I realised my original view of the adventure course was the right one. It had been great fun and a piece of cake - or so I assured Mr C - it was just a matter of getting things into perspective, as they say!
