Just another Rumba...

My new-ish friend Veronica invited me to salsa class, in the hope that I would be worse than her. She is 72 & blind, and, of course, completely right. Hope gratified: hurrahs all round.

Seriously, had she not prodded me I would not have left the house & my dreary screen. The dancing - basically step step stamp unless it's tango eg stamping all the way - is absorbing as it demands full presence, no fretful obsessive thought get past the music. And the after-dance natter with V is invigorating: as the daughter of generations of Redoubtable Missionaries (Papua New Guinea), she is extremely funny with the best BS detector I have ever come across.