My latest following lesson was with Diego. He normally comes to my apartment, but as he had wall-to-wall bookings, I had to cycle to his studio in deepest south London, fending off dragons, rogues and vagabonds as I went. It was worth it.
We danced a song, and I entirely failed to follow a cross. Twice. Or maybe more, who knows. He did, however, have good news for me …
Continue reading I can now follow in a 1930s milonga, while a 2024 one is looking surprisingly feasible