The Hippy, Hippy Shake

When I saw all the pretty, lissom young things gathering for the bellydance class at my gym, my heart sank. I was at least 40 years older than most of them and was dreading making a fool of myself. Should I stay or should I go, was the one thought in my mind. And suddenly it was too late. The shimmery music had started and the instructor, a tiny, extremely voluptuous young woman of Turkish or Egyptian extraction, was ordering us to take off our shoes.

That presented me with problem number one. Included in my long list of chronic minor ailments is metatarsalgia, which is painful nerves in the balls of the feet. It has been ten years since I was last able to wear any shoes with heels, owing to their putting pressure on the ball of the foot, resulting in hopping, squeaking agony. What was I to do? And now we come to another story, so please excuse the digression. When I was in Cumbria at my sister's last month, I had massage and reiki treatments from a wonderful, magical man called Tommy Ireland. Tommy has seen UFO's all his life. He definitely has entry to realms that most of us cannot enter. In fact, no sooner had he started the reiki session that I, too, saw a diamond-shaped thing outside the window, covered in flashing lights. But that's by the by. What I wanted to tell you was that he did a lot of work on my feet and next morning I tripped merrily down the stairs without any pain in the tootsies, for the first time in ten years.

My feet held up OK, thanks to Tommy, but the rest of me, especially the neck and shoulders which had been subjected to ten minutes of shoulder-shimmying, feels as if four large shire horses had pulled a wagon full of beer barrels over it. I let the pretty young things in their tinkly hip-shawls gather in the front, while I lurked at the back trying desperately to find joints that would swivel on a body that felt as stiff as an ironing board. I'm sure I was not a pretty sight, especially when it came to trying to shimmy my butt. The trouble is, I haven't got enough wobbly bits. There - I never thought I would hear myself saying this! Belly-dancing is the one thing where having a jelly-roll round the hips and a generous bust is a distinct advantage.

So, will I be going back next week? Well, I've send for a shimmery scarf (£10 off the internet) and found my padded hiking socks. I shall try it for one more week and if I feel too much like an ostrich among swans, I will chuck in the scarf and auction it to the highest bidder.

(PS: if you're ever in Cumbria and want one of Tommy's treatments, he has a practise in Penrith and also does private work and his number is 07730 203177. I have seen many alternative practioners in my life, but he is truly amazing. Oh, and the scarf is from www.bellylicious.co.uk)