It wasn't until I was teetering on the edge of the platform, high in the air, that I started to think this trapeze business might be harder than it looked. But it was too late for that. So I jumped.

I'd always wanted to run away and join the circus but this childhood dream had been long forgotten until I arrived at Club Med and spied the trapeze. This is one of the activities that differentiates Club Med from other resorts - who else can boast circus school among the usual tennis, golf and windsurfing lessons?

While the fun is mainly for the kids (who also learn juggling and tightrope skills as part of the kids' club activities), a couple of hours every afternoon is set aside for any foolhardy adults who want to live the circus dream.

We had planned to spend the afternoon with a comparatively safe lesson in Balinese dance. We tried, we really did. But about ten minutes was all it took to convince us that this style of movement, with its delicate wrist movements, angled poses and coquettish eye-flicking, was beyond us (and trust me, you don't want to see pictures of our attempts). So we bowled on over to the trapeze area, with its giant ropes and nets.

I decided to warm up with a quick bounce on the bungy trampoline - fun, but not the high-flying action I was craving. Next one of the instructors took us through the basics on a low trapeze bar - hooking our legs up and hanging by our knees.

All too soon we were being belted up and hooked on to a fly wire to begin the long climb up the ladder to the platform. This was in itself a challenge - after we passed the level of the net we had to turn around, and all of a sudden started to realise just how high up we were.

The platform is a bit of a stretch from the ladder and I'd already seen more than one person need a bit of coaxing to let go of the rungs and take the step. I'd scoffed at them; now it was my turn and I took it all back.

Another instructor, Benji, stood on the platform - nothing more than a plank suspended by wires - and while I was already clipped onto a safety rope he had nothing. Clearly, he was mad. And I was putting my life in his hands.

"Hold the rope with your left hand and lean out" I was told. "Grab the trapeze with your right hand... lean out further..." The trapeze hovered just out of reach.  With one had firmly in the back of my belt, Benji pushed me further out until I felt like I was leaning practically horizontally and managed to grasp the bar.

"Left hand on the bar... and now jump!" And against all instincts, I did.

It was brilliant. I swung through the air, whooping as if I was the first person ever to do it. Far below, another instructor, Nick, was calling out instructions. I hooked my knees through the bar and there I was, swooping back and forth with my arms stretched out in front.

After a couple of swings I brought my legs back down and let go of the bar on Nick's command, dropping down onto the springy net. Dismounting is a matter of lying on your stomach at the side of the net and flipping down - easy to do wrong when you're still mid-adrenaline rush, but I managed not to humiliate myself.

And then I was down and high-fiving all and sundry before lining up for another turn... and another. After three goes Nick told me I was ready to try a catch.

Now it was serious - we chalked up our hands and wrists - no Cliffhanger moments for us. Nick shimmied up a rope to the second bar and attached another trapeze, which he sat on backwards. Timing was going to be everything.

This time as I climbed the ladder I was panicking. I'm not sure I was actually breathing. I'd watched a few others do it and the catch seemed almost impossibly simple - for us, at least.

Nick was the one who had to launch himself backwards off the trapeze, hanging not from his knees but from his thighs, which were wrapped around the ropes, and grab us at the exact second we were at the top of our swing.

I jumped, I hooked my knees up, and swung out to meet Nick, my arms outstretched. And he caught me. My knees unhooked themselves of their own accord and I was swinging through the air hanging from another person's arms before dropping back into the net.

Amid my euphoria I was still very aware that my body, unused to the circus life, was packing it in. I could see the blisters rising on my hands and the backs of my knees, this morning, are covered in bruises.

I'm going back again today. In fact, don't be surprised if I don't come home at all.

Amy Williams travelled to Bali courtesy of Club Med and Pacific Blue.

Check out the pictures from my trip to Bali on Flickr or find out more about Bali.

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