No singing though! Nevertheless Friday evening was a pretty memorable and exhilarating experience of dancing in the rain.
Last Friday, after work, I rushed off to join a good friend of mine for an outdoor Zumba class on Paris Plage. It had been a fairly typical summers day – neither too hot nor cold, certainly not humid and heavy. As I entered the metro the sky was bright; not an ominous cloud in sight.
Less than 10 minutes later, upon emerging from Paris’ underground tunnels, the Heavens opened pouring gallons of water down as I have never seen before. The Zumba music was in full blast so the dancing continued on the quai of the Seine. As crowds of people watched the bizarre sight huddled under their umbrellas, I ran frantically through the rain to join in the fun before it would be too late, already drenched from head to toe by the time I arrived on the dancefloor.
For five whole minutes that seemed to last an eternity we forgot everything and just danced under the rain, clothes soaked right through. And I was the happiest I had been in ages. There is something quite refreshing about being caught out in the rain on a summer’s day when you have nowhere else you’re supposed to be; that and my weird fascination with storms.