Lido (show)

A visit to the Lido on the Champs-Elyses was an essential and incredibly memorable few hours of my recent visit to Paris. Recommended over the Moulin Rouge (must investigate to be sure) I still had little idea of what to expect: feathers, dancing and beautiful scantily-clad pert women, yes... but that could have been any Saturday night.

This was so much more though: a truly extravagant revue of music, acrobatics, ice-skating, horse-riding, dancing and general strutting around the stage with huge smiles and very little else on. I was even distracted from drinking my inclusive champagne and gazing at my companion. Yes, from drinking my champagne.

Sensory overload as a plane flies in (honestly!) from the wings (no pun intended) with a stage full to bursting of shocking colour, sequins and skin. Just when I thought it couldn't get any camper, it does: this is what the world would look like if Cher and Liza Minelli were allowed to breed. Speaking of whom, the evening brought the revelation of my knowing most of the words to songs from Cabaret. I blame two people: a friend and a family member, the latter of whom would be in camp musical heaven at this show.

Hard to know what to pick out for special mention: perhaps the Andrex puppy-man dangling from a drape á la BBC idents / Swamp Circus, the compact ice rink and compact skaters that rise from the floor, maybe the nice chaps in top hats and errr chaps maybe... the list goes on and on.

It is so camp it's like being slapped in the face with a wet tight white T-shirt on Canal Street if you can imagine such a thing. Before it started I wondered why there was nothing like it in London; by the end I knew exactly why. It could only happen in glorious, gay Paris without irony or apology.