Bouncing on a trampoline in the garden of a family friend, glass of champagne perched precariously on a plastic garden chair, I felt infinite for a few seconds. Fingertips grazing the white blossoms of an old tree.

In the dark, I bounced with my siblings. My feet hit the surface as my sister flew into the air, and as she crashed down I was already well above her, flying over her head. Like some frozen picture, arms above head and toes pointed. All that was missed was the cheesy smile. My brother and I chased each other with little bounces, round and round till we got dizzy and collapsed onto our backs to stare at the stars. He held his hands out in front of him and stuck out his teeth. I'm a rabbit! he crowed, springing into me.

Across the garden sat a selection of people. The Spanish family. My family - the Germans. Another Spanish family from Manchester. An old friend of the birthday boy's from Oxford. The family from the house next door, who only last year moved from Frankfurt. A family from New Zealand. Little kids, bigger kids, and then me and my sister.

Sometimes I come very close to thanking my parents for being social butterflies.