Full make up and jewellery was my first introduction to a gym here. It wasn’t even the best gym in Cairo. Women obsessed with the owner/aerobics instructor’s behind would fight to get centre front row in order to have the best view - I wish I was kidding. One woman, and remember we’re in a conservative country, actually came to an aerobics class wearing hot pants, tan tights, white pop socks and black trainers. Oh, and large hoop earings.

The hierarchy amongst the women was strong and competition fierce. One, Dina, had her spot and NOBODY would go in the front row on the far left (not even me in a bad mood). I never found out exactly what would happen if someone did, but didn’t want to!

Pre class chats would invariably be about what they ate that day “I had a giiii-norrrrr-mousssss piece of cho-co-late cake”, “Really? You’re lucky you can eat that and keep your figure. I had brrrro-cco-li”.

After a few months of mutual sweating, I found out that these women would come to aerobics classes every morning too. Some of them lived an hour drive away. Not that they drove, that’s what drivers are for, but still, four hours a day in the car just to get to the gym??? Buy a workout video.

I did actually buy a workout video once. Some MTV hiphop workout that was pretty fun in all honesty. Amazingly, about two months later the gym started hiphop classes. First class and I thought something was familiar. Seems the instructor had watched the same video as I had and forgotten to modify it! I got a few dirty looks from make-up clad laydees because I could do the routine with no effort, while they were looking uncool figuring out the difference between their ass and their elbows. Decided to keep my dirty secret to myself and let them suffer!