ROLL up, roll up, the circus is coming to town. A place where dreams can come true and men can wear tights.

So it was that I fulfilled a lifetime ambition and ran away to join the flying trapeze acts, clowns and gymnasts of the Netherlands National Circus.

Walking into the red tarpaulin Big Top at the Canford Park Arena, there was an air of expectation about the place – worryingly, a lot of it directed at me.

I’d expressed an interest in the flying trapeze and now I was having a harness wrapped around my waist.

My mentor was trapeze ace Anton Von Ostendorf and his troupe called The Bull Dancers, who promised to show me the jaw-dropping range of swings, jumps, dives and catches.

Dressed in fetching silver leotards the trapeze artists flipped me up onto the safety net, where I sprawled about on the wiry cords. Staying on the bouncy net proved a task in itself and I almost tumbled off again to the alarm of all watching.

Once I’d found my feet, a strip of fabric trails were dropped from the trapeze platform.

No sooner had I tied the cloth around my arms, than two burly gentlemen hoisted me up to the Big Top roof.

As powerful a display of brute strength as you’d ever see.

We were 60ft up and all was eerily quiet, save for the tinkle of poles on metal wires and the hushed conversation of onlookers below.

I was told to reach for a thick metal bar hanging in thin air in front of me and put my toes over the edge. There was no backing out now, despite not having the regulation silver tights.

With the make-believe roar of a crowd in my ears, I stepped out into the great drop below and took flight.

Clinging on for dear life, I held that monkey bar for all I was worth, helplessly swinging back and forth through the air like a hypnotist’s pocket watch.

It then occurred to me that before I’d leapt off, I’d forgotten to ask how I’d get back down.

The answer soon presented itself, as my palms became sweaty and dangling legs grew heavier. A helpful voice from below advised me to wait until the highest point of my swing to release the bar and fall backwards on the safety net. I remember seeing the canvas roof and floodlights falling away from me and then feeling the safety net pulling around my body. After buffeting around like a rag doll, I breathed a sigh of relief and wanted to go again.

Afterwards Anton and his fellow performers showed me how it should be done.

In a swoosh of sparkly sequins, the guys expertly somersaulted across the tent with the greatest of ease.

Don't miss the video of Patrick's adventure below...