Going dancing in a new city

This is the part nobody expects and the best thing about social dancing: the basic salsa step taught in Madrid is the one taught in Mexico City and the one danced on a Tuesday in Berlin. There are no local versions to relearn when you get off the plane.

And because the dance is held in the body rather than in words, what you learnt at home works unchanged on the other side of the world. You ask with a gesture, you say thank you at the end, and the music carries the rest. A lot of people find this out while travelling, and it is what hooks them.

On the floor you do not need it. You ask someone to dance with a gesture and a smile, and in most rooms one word in any language does the job. Nobody is going to make conversation in the middle of a song in any case, not least because nothing can be heard.

In a class there is talking, and you can still follow it. Whoever is teaching counts to eight out loud and the part that matters is visible, and if you lose the thread the person in front of you shows you with their hands. It is one of the few classes you can walk into without the language and still come out having learnt something.

It sounds like the opposite and it is not. A dance scene is mostly people who see each other every week, so someone from outside stands out — and stands out well. "I am only here a few days" is the easiest thing to say in a dance room, and the usual reply is an account of what is on for the rest of the week.

People who live there have to build a place in the group over time. You do not: you are not coming back next Tuesday, so nobody is keeping score and neither are you.

And ask rather than search. The people dancing in a city know which room is good this season and which one has changed night, and none of that is written down anywhere. "Where is there dancing tomorrow?" is ordinary conversation on a dance floor, not an imposition.

Monday to Thursday is when schools put their classes on; Friday to Sunday is when the big socials are. Sunday tends to start in the afternoon and finish at a reasonable hour, which is what you want when you are travelling the next day.

So the trip does not have to land on a weekend for there to be somewhere to go. A city with a scene has something on any day of the week; what changes is whether you find a class or a party. The city listings say which of the two it is, and which style gets danced there, without your having to ask anyone.

Worth saying, because this is the part nobody mentions: one night does not make you part of a scene. You dance, you enjoy it and you leave, and that is reason enough on its own — but familiar faces and trust belong to the people who come back, and travelling is not coming back.

If you do not dance yet, an unfamiliar city is not where to start either. The first class is better taken at home, unhurried, where it is not your only chance that week. Travelling is for enjoying what you already have, however little that is.

And not every city has a scene. It takes a certain size for there to be dancing on an ordinary day, and in a small town there may be nothing on that week. Check first and save yourself the wasted evening.

Smooth-soled shoes, which are the only thing genuinely worth packing and the only thing you cannot improvise on arrival. Running shoes grip the floor and will not turn, and the night ends early in them.

A spare shirt and some cash for the door, which in plenty of rooms is still the only way to pay. That is the whole list.