HAVA NAGILA

Having travelled in a rather worn and slightly hungover state from Scarborough to London on Saturday morning, I had little opportunity to relax.

There was just time to have a good soak in the bath before it was time to get the glad rags on as we were due to go out to a Bah Mitzvah.

This is the second one I've been invited too and, as non-Jews, The Dark Lady and I consider it a great honour to have been invited.

Matthew had reached 13. He was on the verge of manhood. I'd missed the ceremony at the synagogue earlier in the day. DL went and she had to wear a hat this time as she was now a married woman. This, she told me, pleased her no end.

Proud parents, Adam and Hannah, had hired a hall and a slap-up feed and a disco had been laid on.

There was wild dancing.

There was eating and drinking

More wild dancing

Yet more drinking and eating.

There were prayers and blessings in Hebrew.

To us brought up C of E (retired) and Catholic (lapsed), it was baffling.

There was hammering on tables at one point and I thought back to my childhood. Any body who made the slightest sound during the Sunday service would have got a clip round the ear.

Then the Rabbi left the event and so I gather it was then permitted to dance, men and women together. Up to that point we had whirled in segregated circles.

Then it was time for speeches. Dad, Mum and Bah Mitzvah Boy, Matthew, all made funny and tender speeches. Friends chipped in and for hapless Matt. He had to sit there being "roasted" by his mates.

Then the disco struck up and we whirled some more. What looked like a canoe full of confectionery passed among the dancers. Had I been Fred Astaire I would have wondered why my enthusiastic tapping wasn't sounding right as I got a rogue marshmallow stuck to the sole of my shoe.

The evening rounded off with an outbreak of Gangnam style with all the kids doing the moves. Finally proud Dad, Adam, led us through YMCA

Disturbingly he knew all the moves!

I was wringing with sweat by the end but my hangover had gone.



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