I was gripped by fear, aching all over – and still recovering from cancer treatment. But Dancing With the Stars was a joyous celebration of survival
It was an invitation I accepted in a moment of madness – and, over the next three months, regretted many times a day. I was in over my head, often with my heels literally over my head: I’d signed up to appear on the Greek version of Strictly Come Dancing.
Dancing With the Stars, as it is called in Greece, follows the same format as its UK counterpart, with an identical studio, a matching shiny floor, even many of the same costumes that are hired out and circulated among the 70 or more international versions of the BBC show. Of course, it’s all in Greek – and in the season I took part in, Covid restrictions had been imposed, which intensified its strangeness.
