Andalucía

Girls just want to have fun

I love dancing. Always have. Always will. So, when a good friend of ours, a brilliant DJ back in his 20s, told us he’d been asked to play a set down at one of the trendy beach clubs on the coast, I was in. Old-school jazz, funk and soul classics, this was a night not to be missed. A chance to dance to the music I love and relive my misspent youth. Plus, our mate was putting us on the guest list, which meant the bouncers might actually let me in. Result.

So, last Friday night, we rocked up. As had 100 others. An international crowd, all out for a good time. It felt so good to be back in a dance club, like coming home. And as soon as that first track played… Earth Wind & Fire’s September, if I remember correctly… we were up. Dance floor packed for the next five hours. And when The Brothers Johnson Stomp and Cheryl Lynn’s Got to Be Real came on, I was in my absolute element.

Unfortunately, three hours in, things took an ugly turn. The police rocked up, armed and looking mighty fierce. Apparently, the hotel manager had witnessed what he thought were a couple of drug deals going down. Little white pills exchanging hands out on the terrace. Pretty round coloured pills being openly passed around at the bar. Plus, some suspicious white powder residue found in the men’s toilets. But, sadly for their arrest targets, these were not the dancing-with-molly drug deals the police had hoped for. You see, one thing you should know about many of us who move to the Costas: we might be young at heart, but we are no longer young of body. And the old-school jazz, funk and soul classics theme seemed to have appealed to a certain age demographic. I reckon the average age on that dance floor was 50, give or take a decade.

Thankfully, once statements had been given, the police discovered the little white pills were in fact anti-inflammatories. Well, knees and hips had taken quite the battering. The pretty round coloured pills? Indigestion tablets. Well, jumping around after eating all the Tapa Station’s paella was playing havoc with acid reflux. And the highly suspicious white powder resi due? Yep, trails of rehydration sachets as people desperately tried to keep leg cramps at bay.

Did we let this police raid wreck our night? No, sir. A few of us ladies even tried to persuade the young officers to stay. Well, Spanish policemen are so good looking, it would have been madness not to. But even without them, we danced ‘til dawn and headed home shiny, happy, smiling people. Alas, the next day, not so shiny, happy or smiling. Backs locked up. Knees on fire. Tinnitus raging. But you know what, it was worth it. I think…

Right, must dash. Need to get some ice packs round to Julie’s. Hips still traumatised from Oops Up Side Your Head…

“It’s not an exaggeration to say Ruth has changed my life. She is the first person that truly listened to my story and explained everything in a way that makes sense. Working with Ruth is priceless.

CHRIS HOPSON