It's Saturday afternoon and the huge dojo in the Victorian school building is packed with people clad in white wearing various coloured belts. It's mayhem.
No wonder walls and floor are padded like a lunatic asylum: bodies are flying, cartwheeling, crashing to the mat and grappling. It is a sort of frantic fusion of ballroom, pub brawl and bouncy castle. Here I am happy. I cannot behave this badly anywhere else and get away with it.