What Katy Did - Dance delirium

If you are reading this column then a small miracle has occurred. It means I have managed to locate an internet café and bash out some words before passing out from exhaustion, due to having been on my feet for the past 15 hours.

So what's the big deal, I hear you ask, 15 hours is nothing. Well it is when those hours are from 11.30pm last night until 2pm today (Sunday), all of which spent dancing salsa having only had a two-hour nap before hand, which itself was well deserved considering the day full of dance workshops I attended.

Where am I? I'm at the fifth UK Salsa Congress, based at none other than Butlins in Bognor Regis. Not the classiest of places to spend a weekend I admit, but I have to say that so far I am loving every minute. The sun is shining, as it has been for the entire time (except Friday on the drive down when it poured) so not only have I been indulging in one of my favourite past times - salsa, that is, not eating chocolate - but I have been able to treat my burning, aching feet to a refreshing dip sea while catching a few rays.

But back to my tiredness. Having arrived Friday night to find there was a mix up with chalets, we had to wait for ages while it was sorted, not able to have a kip prior to the party.

That night I did my best on the dance floor but feeling shattered by 1pm, I managed to stretch it out to 2.30pm before giving in and heading for bed. But rather than having a well-earned lie-in on Saturday, it was straight up at 8.30am, with no time for breakfast, in order to get to my first workshop - On2 with Gareth and Lossie. Next up was a ladies spinning class with Edie the Salsa Freak from America, then after a bodywork class with the Salsa Squad from Holland it was time for a snack, a spot of shoe shopping (well my dance shoes are at least a decade old - that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it) and then more classes before dinner, which was rather reminiscent of the meals served at that school in Kent before it got the Jamie Oliver treatment. But having burned so many calories we didn't much care.

Now so tired, my chalet buddies and I had a nap to replenish our energy for the night ahead. And what a night it was.

Wearing my new black shoes, plus new sparkly tassel belt which shimmied and swung around as I shook my hips, I felt like a real pro. But though I have been dancing salsa for six years, I'm a long way off being as good as the experts, who had crowds looking on in awe at not only their fast spins, steps and body moves, but the amount of flesh on show by some of the more scantily clad young ladies.

And when the Centre Stage venue got too crowded we headed to the Cuban room where I ended up dancing til around 7am in the morning, when they kicked us out into the morning sun.

I decided it wasn't worth going to sleep as breakfast was in an hour and I didn't want to miss the first class. So after paying another quick visit to the beach, this time with the sun on the other side, I sat bleary eyed in the greasy spoon-smelling canteen before going to yet another On2 class to brush up on what I'd learned the previous day, followed by a ladies styling class.

Having not written my column on Friday before departing for sunny Bognor, I had planned to email something over from Butlins but their internet café was inconveniently closed. So here I am, Sunday afternoon, aching all over and now feeling slightly delirious, typing up this column from a grotty computer in a DVD rental shop that I had to go to the Tourist Information Centre to find, and longing to be in bed. Which is exactly where I am heading as soon as I send this article. Hopefully I'll get enough shut eye for tonight, when the partying starts all over again.

Although my body is somewhat broken, and will be even more by tomorrow, my spirit is soaring because salsa is truly good for the soul.

So that's all for now. This is tired Katy, signing off. Good night and good luck (to me, that is, as I may not make it back in one piece).