Shall we dance ... a waltz at the Vienna Opera Ball.Credit: Getty Images
Shaney Hudson puts on her dancing shoes to take a spin in Vienna, the spiritual home of the waltz.
MY WALTZ lesson in Vienna started with me flat on my stomach among the dust bunnies in Sydney.
I was desperately trying to find a pair of leather-soled shoes under the bed, apparently the only thing I'd need to bring to my waltz lesson in Vienna.
All I'd found so far were odd socks. Between the luggage limit on my budget flight to Austria and a shoe-lover's compulsion to have the bottom of every good high-heel shoe I owned re-soled with plastic grip, the shoe gods were against me. In the end, all I could come up with was an uncouth pair of black Italian leather boots.
The waltz is sacred to Viennese high society and best glimpsed during the city's elegant and old-fashioned ball season, held in the city's palaces and chambers during the northern winter. Rules are so strict that if you want to take part in any of the exclusive opening balls, a mastery of the Viennese waltz reverse turn (which for non-dance folk means, basically, to the left) is required by all ball committees.
This Cinderella isn't interested in getting to the ball but simply giving the waltz a spin. I booked a private waltz lesson at Elmayer, a famous dance school located next to the Spanish Riding School since 1919.
The school is a city institution. Despite a complete lack of rhythm and five left feet, I love to dance and there was no way I was heading to Vienna without trying out the waltz, hopeful it might offer an insight into Viennese culture.
I'm slightly nervous when I show up for my lesson; after all, in a country that values formality, manners and protocol, the waltz is revered. Luckily for me, when I enter, the walls Vienna seemed to have put up around me during my stay start to come down. The staff are more friendly than formal and in the change rooms I encounter a group of teenage girls in party dresses and dance shoes drinking Starbucks mocha chillers.
My instructor is a lot younger than I am and just as nervous. I'd secretly been hoping for Patrick Swayze out of Dirty Dancing but instead he's dressed like a Dalton Academy Warbler from the TV show Glee, in a well-cut blazer and tie. Private lessons are taught in English in a small separate hall lined with mirrors and, after a few warm-up moves, it's time to adopt a closed position, with the instructor's arm on the small of my back and my hand in his.
Despite its formal reputation, there's no doubt the waltz is intimate. In fact, when it first came into vogue in the 1700s the dance was considered scandalous. Being thrust cheek to cheek and hand in hand with a much younger man is a little unnerving and I end up blushing as he begins to lead me around the room.
The waltz is beautiful to watch and, predictably, harder to execute. After a few years of dancing salsa socially, I'm failing miserably at the timing and, being a modern woman, I'm also having trouble surrendering to being physically led by a man I've never met before.
Eventually, sick of me standing on his toes, my instructor tries the last trick in the instructor's book: he distracts me by asking about what I do, where I live and where I come from. It works a charm. The less I think about what my feet are doing, the more natural I feel and the easier the movements become. By the end of the lesson we manage to glide around the room to music in a close impersonation of that stunning and elegant arc the waltz is known for and it feels brilliant.
To gather my things in the change room I have to pass through the main dance hall, where a large group of teenagers are taking their weekly waltz lesson. They look like they are playing dress-ups in their proper gowns and heels, blazers and ties. Yet they are still kids.
Their instructor changes the music, announcing free dance time. A track from Glee blasts over the sound system and they suddenly start to boogie, joking around like little kids and laughing, lip-synching along.
In a city that can be slightly formal, it's a treat to go behind closed doors and see a younger generation cutting loose.
The writer was a guest of the Vienna Tourist Board.
Trip notes
Getting there
Austrian Airlines flies from Sydney to Vienna from $2218. See austrian.com or phone +4305 1766 1000.
Dancing there
Elmayer Dancing School offers 50-minute private lessons for €58, for a single or a couple. Wedding waltz lessons, ball preparation and etiquette and manners classes are also available. Their website also has information regarding the ball season in the northern winter. elmayer.at/en or phone +431 512 7197.
More information
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