It wasn’t the most productive of weekends, not in terms of preparing for the walk anyway. I dehydrated some more food on Saturday, but spent most of the day loitering around a hall in North Hobart.
There, drawn in through the cunning method of mentioning dancing, I was signed up for an Irish dancing competition. I’d never competed as a dancer before, since I just do it as a social and fun activity. My introduction to the other side of dancing wasn’t a short event; it was an entire day, 8.30 in the morning through until 5. I may as well have been at work!
Of course, I wasn’t dancing for the entire day. Irish dances take only a couple of minutes each and I only had to dance seven times throughout the day. There were different dances, skill levels and age groups, and – with up to twenty dancers competing for each – numerous heats required to get through us all. Most of the day was spent loitering backstage, watching other dancers from the shadowy back seats or practicing steps with my teammates.
Fortuitously, cameras aren’t allowed in most Irish dancing competitions. Something to do with being allowed to question the judge’s decision, I assume. Thus no photos will be appearing here showing me fumble my way through the dances. And if photos were still taken of some of my events… well they still won’t be appearing here.
Sunday brought more food dehydration, but all in all I was getting closer and closer to completion, and the remaining meals had been neglected as the time-consuming, fiddly ones. Come days end, there wasn’t much to show for my labours.
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