Get in Step in the Alps
By Simon Garner
'Un, deux, un, deux, Simon, tu me comprends?' says my salsa teacher, a first flicker of exasperation crossing her face.
Bless Marie for her patience, though. She's spent the past two mornings trying to help me through basic salsa steps while I've had to deal with the double whammy of coordinating my feet at the same time as trying to remember how to conjugate verbs from my patchy A-level French.
You're probably thinking I'm in some steamy joint in the south of France, a sea breeze taking some of the heat off the air while we try to master the intricate moves of one of the world's sexiest dances, but you'd be wrong.
I'm actually in Les Contamines-Montjoie, a village in the French Alps, and I'm staying at the local UCPA, effectively a state-run action centre with rooms for twenty- and thirtysomethings. And, as you may have guessed, I'm faring pretty badly.
The language has actually not been that much of a problem. When I can't keep up, my fellow guests and instructors all have that annoyingly excellent yet helpful grasp of English.
And then there is Frederic, my 32-year-old Parisian roomie and new-found best pal, who has helped me sign up to a few of the 16 activities the centre offers in its summer programme, all of which are included in the price of the stay.
So far we've shot down the mountain slopes on bikes, had a go at roller hockey and tried target shooting, where managing to bag three bullseyes in a row has been one of the proudest moments of my life.
My hips seem to move as though I'm confined to a straitjacket and I have about as much rhythm as John Sergeant
The salsa, though - my main reason for being here - has been rather more challenging, mainly because my hips seem to move as though I'm confined to a straitjacket and I have about as much rhythm as John Sergeant.
It's a situation borne out by the fact I've just treated Marie to one of my blankest looks yet. Obviously no quitter, she comes over, places a consoling hand on my shoulder and says: 'Let's go on to the deck.'
So we all step outside on to a raised sun terrace, where we get to appreciate the setting. All around us are mountains, lush green and imposing, a gurgle of streams and inspiring fresh Alpine air on our faces. Dancing al fresco, it seems, suits me and suddenly I don't need step-by-step guidance: my hips are free and I'm dancing like Metro's answer to Ricky Martin.
Clearly, Marie's noticed the difference and so we spend the next three mornings on deck. 'There is just a great atmosphere here at the centre,' she tells me after one of the lessons. 'Everyone is here to make the most of their day, to be active and then to have as relaxing or as crazy a time as they like in the evenings. It's up to you - it's your holiday, after all.'
I can see what she means about the evenings. The excellent buffet-style meals are a social occasion, everyone sitting at long, communual tables and recounting their adventures before heading into the village to sample the nightlife.
Over a beer, Frederic explains why the UCPAs are so popular in France. 'Many people here are single and they come by themselves or with a group of friends,' he says. 'We are the generation that stays single for longer and enjoys life for longer. UCPA caters for us but it is good for couples too - look how romantic it is here.'
Just as I'm wondering what he's driving at, he catches the eye of a pretty femme at the next table and introduces himself. 'Now,' I think to myself, 'if I could really perfect my snake hips and my hook turns I could do that. It would make me un bel homme, non?'
Metro UK, March 2009: Get in Step in the Alps
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