It might seem strange for musings about music to start with a reference to a TV programme about railways.  But read on, for all will be revealed in due course.

Great Continental Railway Journeys has the British ex-politician Michael Portillo using a 1913 Bradshaw’s Continental Railway Guide to devise journeys around Europe.  He travels by train to places featured in the guide book, visiting places and peoples whose lives in 1913 “would soon be changed by the advent of war”.  Once in almost every episode, in the interests of providing some local colour and culture, he is called upon to learn to dance – anything from a stylish waltz in a grand Viennese salon to a folksy side-stepping polka in St Petersburg.  Part of the programme’s enjoyment is that Portillo is completely left-footed and unco-ordinated, but seems happy to be filmed outside his comfort zone, stumbling around alongside experienced performers.

It might also seem strange for me to mention that, where Anne and I come from, the UK, community halls have to be licenced.  Hence above the main entrance to every hall there is a sign “Licensed for the pursuance of public singing and dancing”.

There is a connection..  Read on, dear reader, read on.

Anne, who has suffered the bruises and broken bones to prove it, says of my ability to dance that, should the licencing be of the individual rather the the premises, I might well get a licence for making music in public, but there is no way I would get a licence for dancing.  I am not even supposed to dance in private, behind closed doors.

So the first connection is that I would be well placed to take over from  Michael Portillo when the series needs a change of presenter.  Admittedly, my own Bradshaw dates from 1910, is only a facsimile, and covers only the British Isles.  But my dancing makes me ideally suited to the role.  I would make an even bigger hash of it than Michael Portillo.

Which – and here at last is the connection to MWC – might explain why I am having such difficulty grasping the rhythms of these wonderful songs from South America.  The other works, especially the Schubert, pretty much sing themselves.  But these songs are outside my comfort zone.  Other choir members seem to catch the rhythms after a couple of times singing through, but I finished last night’s rehearsal  completely out of step.

So, irrespective of anything Carlos might have set for homework this week, I know what I shall be doing.  Sitting alone in a darkened room with a cool towel around my head, hammering out these rhythms   e v e r   s o   s l o w l y.  Then hopefully, gradually increasing the speed, then adding some words, and finally maybe singing the tune.

Incidentally, have you noticed how Bethany can play completely contrary rhythms simultaneously in both hands?  She has to do it in at least two of these songs.  She does it completely without fuss.  And I bet she’s a great dancer too!