Buenos Aires

• The Whisk Factor - Argentina
• Tangoing in the Moonlight - Argentina
• Revealed, Rio's secrets - Brazil
• On Cloud Nine - Costa Rica
• A Revolutionary Party - Cuba
• More than Sex, Salsa & Cigars - Cuba
• Partying with Fidel - Cuba
• Journey to the Mountain of the Gods - Peru
• Blaze a trail to Belize - Belize
• The time traveller - Mexico and Cuba

LESS THAN TWO HOURS after I arrived in Buenos Aires, the fishnet-clad legs of a woman were wrapped firmly around my body.

Her lethal-looking three-inch red heels and battle-ready make-up suggested she might be tough but I hadn’t expected this. She threw me from one position to the next, slapping me with dissatisfaction while her vocal outbursts became increasingly loud.

My inability to follow basic instructions was as frustrating for her as it was for me. ‘No, no, senor, concentrado, find the rhythm,’ she hollered as I tried to follow her moves. The sweat was pouring off me and I asked myself just what I was doing in this strange country attempting to learn a dance as difficult as the tango.

Julieta Lotti’s apartment-cum-dance-studio is deep in the heart of Buenos Aires’ Microcentre, near the city’s main shopping area. I’d booked the class in London but was now wondering if I had been over-ambitious.

There may be only two hours’ difference between the UK and Argentina, but a dance lesson so soon after a 14-hour flight was testing.

The apartment building is spectacular, its courtyard a quiet oasis of overhanging plants and neat flowerbeds separated from bustling city life by heavy iron gates. Despite urban growth, Buenos Aires (or BA as it’s known) has conserved its colonial heritage and the apartment block on Reconquista Street is a classic example of the city’s baroque style.

Great feeling of harmony

Julieta’s flat is fabulously airy, a balcony overlooking the tranquil courtyard. She led me to the large dance studio out the back, with floor-length mirrors and photos of Julieta striking impressive tango poses. She has given lessons to the Duchess of York and former New York mayor Rudy Giuliani.

‘Would you like a drink?’ she asked. It seemed a shot of mariposa, a honey liqueur, was the norm before a class so I agreed, the effects instantly taking the edge off my nerves. Then Julieta passed me a pair of black leather shoes and moved to the centre of the floor.

‘Remember that the tango dance comes from here,’ she whispered, slowly tapping my chest. She placed my hands around her body, closed her eyes and, nodding to the rhythm of the music, began moving me round the room.

The sensual, mysterious tango is said to have started in the late 19th century when Europeans flooded into the ports of Buenos Aires seeking their fortune. The lonely travellers danced with local waitresses and prostitutes, creating a sexual dance with a macho edge. Done properly, the tango is the most passionate dance you will see, emotions leaping from flirtatious desire to theatrical hostility.

Julieta pointed out there should be no eye contact; smiles and chatting are reserved for interludes. The man takes the lead, pressing his right hand firmly on the woman’s back and guiding her with the other. The upper body remains upright and close to your partner. The woman randomly gestures with flamboyant kicking movements to the side of or between the man’s legs and some rather erratic hip-swivelling. Technically it’s difficult but emotionally it makes sense… as long as you remember the step sequence. Unfortunately, this was my downfall: I must have trodden on Julieta’s feet 20 times just on the basic routine.

When it does come together, it is a great feeling of harmony. It reminded me of musical jams during my Toploader days when all five of us would connect through playing music. I wanted to see how tango was done properly so Julieta agreed to take me to some local milongas (dance halls) the following night.

I checked into the wonderful Four Seasons Hotel, in the smart, leafy La Recoleta district. It’s within walking distance of the upmarket shopping area of Avenida Alvear and Recoleta Cemetery, the much visited resting place of Evita.

Proud of our national music

Buenos Aires is one of the best cities for eating out, offering excellent quality and value – but Argentines eat late, and party even later, so if you sit down before 10pm you’ll probably dine alone.

Keen to get my teeth around one of the famous juicy pampas (steaks), I headed to a local parrilla (grill), Juana M. Even. Even at top retaurants you’d be hard pushed to spend £20 per head for a meal with wine. In this cosy, candlelit basement restaurant I feasted on fillet steak, raided the as-much-as-you-can-eat salad bar and enjoyed a delicious glass of Argentine malbec, all for about £5.

The next morning I headed to the Feria de San Telmo, a Sunday morning antiques fair in the heart of tangoland. The long walk from Plaza de Mayo (BA’s answer to Leicester Square) towards Plaza Dorrego was a sensory treat. A melee of traders battled it out for custom while slick-haired dancers weaved in and out of the crowds to the sounds of superb bands playing on the sidewalks. A young seven-piece orchestra called Tipica Imperial was setting up to play. The main instruments used in tango are the distinctive sounding bandoneon, the double bass and the violin – this band had even wheeled along an piano.

I spoke with them about their love for tango music. ‘We are proud of our national music. It brings a smile to everyone who listens,’ said the double bass player.

Later, Julieta picked me up from my hotel in one of the city’s black-and-yellow Radio Taxis, whose charges rarely exceed £3.

We went to the trendy Palermo Hollywood district, to a milonga called La Catedral. It’s extremely cosmopolitan, earning the nickname ‘little Paris’. The heaving Plaza Vieja is the best place for nightlife, with clubs and bars galore open till daylight.

La Catedral used to be a warehouse and its spit-and-sawdust appearance adds to the atmosphere. Candlelit tables are arranged around the large dance floor. At first I thought I’d walked on to the set of Dirty Dancing as I watched dancing couples oozing over each other.

Songbird of buenos aires

It was around midnight and the tango class was just finishing. Julieta and I ordered a litre bottle of Argentine Quilmes beer (£1.20), sat back and watched in awe. On the back wall hung a huge poster of a handsome man – Carlos Gardel, ‘the songbird of Buenos Aires’. During the Twenties, Gardel crooned his way to becoming a tango figurehead, some saying he was solely responsible for spreading it to the rest of the world.

Keen to show me a contrasting milonga, Julieta took me to an upmarket place called Salon Canning in the Palermo Soho area. Salon Canning has a reputation for having the best dance floor and attracting the finest dancers in BA.

In milonga etiquette, seat positioning is key. If, like me, you want to just observe, a back table is sensible. A man doesn’t ask for a dance, he simply looks at his desired partner across the room and gestures with a cabezazo (a signal). The offer can be accepted with a smile or declined with a turn of the head. Lastly, if a man enters the milonga with a woman, she is ‘his’ for the night, so hands off.

On my final day, I made for La Boca, often thought of as the rough end of the city but steeped in history. La Boca is at the working end of the docks, famous for exporting Argentina’s fine beef.

You get the sense that the larger-than-life locals, Portenos, are a hard-working bunch, full of passion not only for their beloved football team Boca Juniors (the former club of Diego Maradona) but, of course, for tango.

I had a cool beer at La Rueda cafe and watched the world go by to the sounds of yet more tango.

On the way to the airport my taxi driver, Carlito, spoke of the terrible financial difficulties Argentines have suffered in recent years. But he added, with a smile: ‘It doesn’t cost anything to dance the tango.’