I had to have a go. I know I have two left feet, but they itched to try. 

Friends who tango in Amsterdam told me ‘It’s just walking’. Mmm. 

I got a recommendation and went to Cynthia’s San Telmo apartment that first Monday morning with a mixture of nerves and excitement. 

We got down to it straight away. ‘Don’t bob up and down and keep your head up’, Cynthia ordered. ‘Feel the connection of your feet to the ground. The ground is your best friend’. I was going to hear that phrase a lot. ‘Project from your centre’. Now I knew why tango dancers go to Pilates classes. ‘Stand next to me. Look in the mirror’. The mirror was the size of a house. I groaned inwardly. I never look in a mirror. OK, for a nano-second in the morning, when I flatten my hair. But I got on with it. ‘Now you need to move the upper part of your body in time with the music a little’. What? More stuff to think about! She shouted ‘Muy bien!’ when I did something she liked – just enough – to make me love her and the dance. I booked another five private lessons. 

The next morning – my second lesson – she announced ‘Today, I’m going to be a bad person’, before I’d even got in the door. I noticed another huge mirror had been uncovered. Now I had one to my right and one straight in front. Cynthia explained technicalities –  I needed to have my weight on the balls of my feet, and not allow my upper body to lean backwards. She talked about the connection of the embrace and the beat of the music. ‘But I can’t hear it’, I said. I couldn’t feel when I was supposed to move, speed up, slow down. It was hot, and I was bothered. On top of all that she told me – ‘Look happy. Be up, physically and mentally’. 

The lessons continued. Lots of exercises to improve balance, to learn how to express emotion musically, to move freely, individually, creatively. It was the connection of the abrazo that floored me; an energetic connection more than a physical one –  a kind of comforting hug, an expression of caring. The embrace is not about leaning, or pushing – too much weight and you will be too heavy for your partner and ‘No-one will want to dance with you’. But ‘without connection there is nothing’. Tango is an invitation to another to join you, while you remain centred, confidently balanced in your own power. 

There is a saying – ‘Wherever you go, you take yourself with you’ – for me, tango began to be confrontational. Try as I might, I could not help but feel a little uncomfortable with the embrace. Hard to project a comforting hug, when you feel uneasy. Cynthia’s words – ‘Relax, open your chest, extend, connect, embrace’ rang in my ears and those words, ‘No-one will be able to dance with you’ began to take hold. 

She suggested I try her group lesson. ‘You need to dance with other people. Some things you cannot learn alone’. Friends supported me – ‘Give it a go. You might love it’. So I did and I did. Everyone was young and encouraging. I actually felt like I was dancing. I partnered Pablo, the male teacher. ‘Keep going’, he told me ‘Right now everything is difficult but tango is about connection. It’s good for the soul’. 

But the next Monday, back with Cynthia in her studio, it was definitely not good for my soul. ‘No, no, no’, she said every time I moved. I went to one more group lesson and in the first exercise, my partner, a big, burly guy with the physique of a rugby player, side-swiped my foot, dislodging my toe-nail. There was no pain but lots of blood and for me it was clear, my tango experience was over. 

I’m glad I did it though. I learned a lot about myself and tango. It takes a lot of effort to walk like that.