Shake that Funky Thang!

So, somewhere back before the road-trip, I had made a promise to Beth that I would try out her sport. Beth is my friend that plays the trumpet, and also for some unknown reason, goes belly-dancing. What was I thinking?

There were about 15 women at the class, some of whom I recognised. Beth seemed to know everyone, as you do. Elaine (as in Frank and Elaine) wandered past, carrying a badminton racket. I think the black-haired woman on the back row was the same person who had bullied my life into misery when I was a teenager. I hope she didn't recognise me. Either way, I didn't introduce myself.

The class is run by Pam, whom I've met before, over the years, during different exercise classes. She is earthy and funny and tries not to take things too seriously. I like her. She handed out scarves with jingly coins on, to newcomers like me. They are for wrapping around your hips to give that extra noise when you shake them.

This type of belly dancing is the Turkish style, she informed us, not the Egyptian sort. I can't say I know the difference. It is certainly a style of dance designed for men to watch, rather than for the ladies doing it to enjoy. One track we danced to (apparently modern Turkish pop) was called "Let me see you bounce". Nothing left to the imagination there, then. Fortunately I was wearing a sports bra!

So we shimmied and shook our hips and rippled our protesting stomach muscles for the best part of an hour. We waggled bits and thrusted hips and made the scarves jingle. It was quite good fun, and thankfully the youths playing football on the other side of the hall took no notice of us at all.

I ended up feeling supple and limber and only mildly sore. I may even go again, though I doubt if I'll be practicing at home or anywhere else people can see me, for that matter.