Looking back, Vienna was a glorious place to grow up. We dug in sandpits under the shade of the city’s famous monuments, and when it rained we slipped into the side entrance of the Imperial Riding School to watch the white Lipizzaner stallions practise their moves. But once we were teenagers, we resented our closeted existence. The only pop music was Casey Kasem’s American Top 40 weekly radio show. Films released in Hollywood at Christmas rarely made it to Vienna before August. But the worst part for me was the fact that at 16 I had to learn to waltz.

It is a rite of passage that prepares young people for the annual dance season, the weeks between New Year and the start of Lent that are dominated by balls. In 2007, there were more than 400. Dancing is not just for the elite – there are balls for everyone: lawyers, military officers, estate agents, Russians, cafe owners, farmers, engineers, the homeless …