The belle of the Viennese ball

The dapper young dance master gave his orders: 'Turn with the left foot. No - the

How long does it take to learn? I asked Marcus, as my dancing partner, Darren, and I arrived at the Elmayer Dancing School in Vienna. 'About a year.'

Any chance of capturing the essence of the Viennese whirl in, say, an hour then? Marcus looked as if he had been asked to climb Kilimanjaro in white tie. 'We can try,' he said bravely.

We were trying to learn in 60 minutes what the Viennese spend their formative years perfecting, here or at one of the city's other dancing schools. Learning to waltz is a matter of pride and celebrated with gusto during the ball season.

Officially held from January through to March (there are also balls in April, May and June), the ball season is part of Fasching, a carnival period held in the days preceding Lent. Its origins date back to the 18th Century.

We were preparing for one of the most prestigious events: the Vienna Philharmonic Ball at the Musikverein concert hall the following evening.

Waltz means 'to turn around', a style that appeared in Vienna in the mid-18th Century out of the L?ndler, a popular traditional dance. This was the dirty dancing of its day, considered immoral by the gavotte-trotting old guard. Hip to hip, chest to shoulder, the emphasis was on 'getting closer', causing one horrified commentator to describe a ball where 'all innocence fled from the place'.

And innocence was certainly fleeing the Elmayer, as we massacred the caree, the basis for the half-turns that make up the Viennese waltz. While the music stresses the first beat, the characteristic swing relies on dancers emphasising the second.

Darren, a flautist with the Band of the Coldstream Guards, was untroubled, having hummed crochets and semiquavers since Heathrow. I was more of a freeform waltzer; a renegade skip there, a glide and a smile in times of trouble. Smiling is apparently a major waltzing skill.

Luckily so, when you've mastered the steps, stopped leading (if you're me), completed a passable anticlockwise turn and are then told the 'real' thing is several thousand times faster. Sixty beats per minute to be precise (as opposed to 30 beats in an English waltz) - the difference between line dancing and rave. Marcus put on some Strauss and skipped around the room to show us, as nimble as a spring lamb in pasture.

Strauss, the Waltz King, was the world's first pop star, so the Viennese say - his monument in the Stadtpark is still Vienna's most photographed sight. Strauss the younger, of course, who created a dancehall craze in Europe from the mid-19th Century, turning the preserve of royalty into a season where everyone had a chance to dance.

The tradition continues today, with more than 200 balls to choose from. Representing every price range, music taste and dress code, some are institutions, some are one-offs and most are open to everyone. The vital thing is that you go to a ball - and it appears everyone does.

The most lavish traditional one is the Opernball at the State Opera in February. Other top tickets include the Rudolfina Redoute (a masked ball) and the Kaiserball at the Hofburg on New Year's Eve. Lower key balls include the Bonbonball or J?gerball, or those of the alternative ball season, such as the Wallflower Ball (dress code: drab).

It's impossible to come to Vienna and not be swept up in some kind of beat. Even the Ringstrasse, the grand 19th Century boulevard surrounding the Innere Stadt, has the same twirling gentility as the music that accompanied its construction, with buskers playing minuets and singing Cosi Fan Tutte.

In the Strauss room of the Hausdermusik museum my suspicions were confirmed, with two teachers from a school party demonstrating half turns far superior to ours. Getting ready that evening, the hairdresser broke off mid-backcomb to demonstrate a perfect turn and reassure me that no one would be looking at my feet.

Just as we were leaving, the hotel receptionist told me of her youthful pranks at the Vienna Philharmonic Ball. 'We would go up to the balconies and waltz until someone noticed and the fire brigade came to drag us back down,' she said, wistfully. 'Can you see if anyone still does that?'

We arrived at 10pm to be greeted by liveried footmen. I picked up my damenspende, a traditional present given to the ladies (this year a book of stories) and headed to one of the bars. Then, with the traditional call of Alles Walzer (everybody waltz), the moment of reckoning had come.

We took to the floor like clumsy ducklings amid black-tie swans - a mix of balldresses, military outfits, white gloves, tails, even a sari and a couple of kilts.

The dancefloor was heaving like an enormous, elegant bumper car rally. Two alternating orchestras swung between classic waltzes, polkas and quadrilles (a sort of gigantic Baroque Gay Gordons) and swing, big band, even the Beatles. But the star turns belonged to Strauss, prompting a dancefloor surge that swept us along with its momentum.

Dancing as the Viennese do is a tiring but addictive business - sit down after a snappy Viennese waltz and you feel like the room is waltzing around you.

Watching from a balcony, the scene was one colourful, hypnotic centrifugal force. Only at 5am, when the dancefloor had slightly emptied, did we realise our night was over.

No one dances on the balconies now - filled with tables - but we did one last half turn. Just so I could tell the receptionist they still did.

Getting there
Austrian Holidays (020 7434 7399) has return flights from Heathrow to Vienna from £183, and from Manchester from £212: www.austrianairlines.co.uk

Prestige Promotions (01442 879000) offers a two-night break, with tickets to a ball, from £485. Austrian Tourist Board (020 7629 0461), www.austria-tourism.co.uk or the Vienna Tourist Board www.info.wien.at

Destination guide: Austria