Article by Linda Evans
Sitting in the bar after dinner at my Mauritian holiday hotel (and yes, I am bragging,) I couldn’t help but notice how every woman was dancing in her seat. Fruity cocktail in front of her, jiggling and swaying to the music whilst the dance floor remained empty.
One lone French woman, dressed admittedly like an over-dressed belly dancer, (ie her belly was covered but she had enough coins and metal covering her that everything was swaying,) braved the small round dance floor, madly kicking her legs and jumping around, partnered by her small child. We all watched, no one moved from their seat. It was almost as if everyone disapproved. But I decided, she was the only one there who’d had a blinding night.