Friday 10 June 2011

Plié, Relevé, Tendu, Fondue

My very first adult ballet class
Not quite what my mind had pictur'd it as
Black Swan wasn't there
No twirls or jumps in th'air
I guess that's how Hollywood plays with us

Yes, you heard me: I went to a ballet class yesterday. Before going I checked the school's website a dozen times to confirm these classes were for adults; I kept picturing myself turning up into a room of twenty 9 year olds in tutus.

But I was ok, this was an absolute beginner ballet class. And I am that: a beginner, in absolute terms. My motivation is not the desire to become a prima ballerina, nor relive my childhood (ballet in Switzerland with an Uruguayan/English friend, what a childhood). I just need to do more exercise and I don't enjoy yoga or pilates, tennis in London is a nightmare and gymns don't match value for money IMHO.

So I spent an hour and a half plié-ing, relevé-ing, tendu-ing and trying to hold my arm in arabesque without looking like a fascist salute. You don't move around a lot for this sort of thing, but it is still quite a lot of work.

Ballet was followed by dinner in an Ethiopian restaurant in King's Cross. Eating Ethiopian food apparently looks like this.

Some foods taste better when eaten with your hands (ever tried to use a knife and fork on a burger people?)

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