RAISED above the circus floor is a mesh sphere with a diameter of around four metres: the Globe of Death.

For the first time ever in the UK, five motorcyclists have entered, reaching speeds of over 60mph as they pass one another at close proximity. The smell of popcorn and sawdust in the big top is now infused with exhaust fumes as the looping bikes roar. Thinking the experience could grow no more intense, the globe begins to split at the centre.

Now separated by a metre long gap, the audience can see the riders’ eyes as they indicate to one another the relevant positions to take for the finale as the two hemispheres begin to close again. This is the final act of Zippos Circus in Falkirk, and it’s an enthralling and bizarre ride from start to finish.

From the 1940s, circuses such as Billy Smart’s and Robert Brothers toured the UK, and their arrival always drew big crowds. Recently, these shows have disappeared and Zippos Circus has taken their place as a family favourite. The spectacle exhibits jugglers, aerialists, knife throwers and countless other diverse acts, including an unbelievably flexible African contortionist. This is an eclectic mix, and the only thing more intriguing than their atypical talents is their familial and trusting relationships with one another off-stage.

Binding the diverse crew together is the best known ringmaster in the business, Norman Barrett MBE. Speaking prior to the show, the besuited ringmaster tells me: “We are a nomadic tribe. This circus is a moving village. We completely rely on each other. Whether we’re off-stage carpenters, electricians or mechanics, all of our energy goes towards what happens here in the ring. It’s a communal lifestyle, and this big top is our temple.”.

While there is usually little to be revered on the Falkirk Stadium grounds on a dreary Saturday afternoon, the big top stands mysterious and alluring on the grass, something out of place and time. Upon entering, it becomes clear why it has been so popular for centuries. The smell of popcorn, the darkened arena, and the flashing red Zippos sign lend an enticing charm to the curtains at the back of the tent. The unity of the performers is evident as horse riders set up seating, knife throwers sell brochures, and a dance troupe prepare boxes of popcorn for an eager audience. Despite their talents, the performers here are not brash and egotistical. They’re humble, caring and cooperative. As I’ve been told, there’s no room for ego in this line of work.

Physical fitness, teamwork and competency in various fields is a necessity for the circus life, and this skill-set is apparent in the charismatic clown, Emilion Delbosq. Dropping the traditional clown outfit, he opts instead for a modern ‘geek’ character with thick rimmed glasses, some eye make up and suspenders lifting the hem of his trousers to expose his pulled up socks and red converse shoes.

As the show begins, Delbosq enthuses the audience with some stimulating crowd-work. “I spend 99% of the two hours running, so cardio work is key.” he tells me beforehand. I realise he isn’t joking as over the next two hours he provides a backbone to the show, consistently handing props to performers and moving equipment in the background while keeping the audience amused.

This is undoubtedly a family event, but his entertainment between acts strikes a chord with the older generations too. There is a rare delight in watching adults become as enthralled as their children by the slightest of tricks, as Delbosq delicately pumps smoke rings out of a tin bin which slowly rise to the canopy.

Circuses traditionally consist of families and their descendants, like Delbosq, a 10th generation performer. This isn’t always the case, as evidenced by Juma, a 23 year old contortionist from Zanzibar. Meeting him before the show, he places his phone, keys and wallet on the ground, and with ease stretches his left arm behind his neck, twisting it down through his right armpit while his other arm twists back on itself and holds his head. He remains like this, smiling, while I try to comprehend how the bones now protruding from his left armpit haven’t broken. His performance during the show is no less bizarre.

Appearing from the back of a smoke-filled stage, he spider walks like Linda Blair in The Exorcist towards the crowd with his neck seemingly dislocated and his hands twisted backwards. Though unconventional, he looks at home here, and - like all the performers - his enthusiasm for the circus is palpable. “I would work all day in Zanzibar for just twenty dollars” he told me. “It’s a very difficult life for civilians, so I uploaded videos of my act on YouTube and fortunately a European circus contacted me.”. Leaving Africa for a better life, Juma was accepted by the troupe as family, giving him an opportunity to travel the world doing what he loves.

Juma’s story exemplifies the nature of the circus world, and why this “touring village” continues to thrive with open arms to anyone willing to work hard and embrace the offbeat way of life. I hadn’t been sure what to expect, possibly an antiquated show consisting of a couple of clowns, a juggler and some dancers. This was far from the case. Whether it’s the roaring of bike engines, the elegant Cossack horses, or the loud, rhythmic cracking of fiery whips from the Argentinian Gaucho group, this experience was anything but mundane. I was enthralled by its content, but found myself even more captivated by the charm of the circus family themselves. This clearly isn’t just a group of touring performers. It’s a lifestyle.

Zippos Jigit tour of Scotland returns to the central belt at the end of July with shows in Kirkintilloch, then finishes the Scottish tour in the first week of August at Glasgow’s Bellahouston Park.

Full times and dates are under ‘tickets’ at www.zippos.co.uk.