Belly dancing in Wuppertal ;-)
As I was beginning to feel too much at home at the hostel in Düsseldorf, this morning it was time to move on. However, as my sleeping cycle is once again more than a little bit out of sync with how the rest of the world operates, I only managed to drag my butt out of bed at 10 and thus was handsomely late for the check-out at 11. So it was almost noon before I had packed my bags and loaded them on the bike, and was ready to hit the road.
I had chosen Wuppertal as today's destination purely because of there being a milonga on a Tuesday night, and as the distance to cover really wasn't more than 40 km, there was no reason to worry about the late departure.
As so often before, getting out of the city was a hurdle: the signposted bicycle route always disappeared at crucial moments (at crossroads) and was once again far from straight, I gave up trying to follow it and decided to just try to get from one suburb to the next. This turned out to be a working solution, as there was hardly a km along the way to wuppertal when I wasn't traversing one.
Upon approaching Wuppertal, I saw something quite extraordinary: Riding through the suburb of Wohwinkel I noticed that a railway had been built on top of the main street, running above the traffic for as far as the eye could see. This in itself would have been innovative, but when all of a sudden I heard an escalating noise from above and looked up, I was truly startled: Above me there was a tram, not running ON the tracks as I had assumed, but HANGING FROM them!
Later, I found out that this hanging tramway is indeed something that Wuppertal is famous for. There and then, I felt like a stupid tourist, but still could not resist the temptation to take some photos. As it soon began to rain quite heavily and I took cover under a bridge, I had ample opportunity to observe this way of organising public transport. What is truly novel in it (for me) is that it is largely built on top of a river, with the carriages swaying above the water as the tram meanders in the narrow valley. As I was to discover later, this swaying produces a slightly nausenous feeling when riding in a tram, especially if one happens to look down.
I had done a search on the internet about places to stay, and now had to take myself to the youth hostel that was way out of the city centre, high up on the hill overlooking the valley. It was certainly the steepest and longest climb of this trip so far, but by no means impossible. At the hostel, I was lucky to get the last remaining free room, as the place was teeming with children, all running around and screaming as only kids on an outing can. I did not mind, as I knew they would be quiet by the time I got back from my milonga!
The venue, Cafe Ada, must have been one of the nicest I have seen on this trip. With high ceilings, wooden floors and loosely grouped tables it was really ideal for a milonga, and as I found out, actually was part of a dance schoot that had its studio upstairs.
I danced with a handful of leaders, some of then quite skilled too, but could sense that although my feet are now almost back to normal, my mind still hasn't quite weaned itself from the quite special atmosphere of last weekend's Tangocamp. Thus, I did not really feel quite my usual enthusiasm, and actually felt quite content to just sit, watching others dance.
This way, I could test the hypothesis that has been forming in my mind about the German tango style. Obviously, it consists of many things, but one feature stands out: here, a huge majority of men dance with their belly forward, thus searching to guide the follower's movements with their gut, instead of the chest as is traditionally taught. I find it actually quite funny, as the bellies aren't necessarily any bigger than anywhere else. Rather, it seems to me that German men are almost Proud of their bellies, and seem to find it quite pleasurable to have it in contact with a woman's bosom (or, obviously, her belly, should she have one that protrudes)! To me, this gives a whole new meaning to the expression of 'belly dancing'! :-)
I had chosen Wuppertal as today's destination purely because of there being a milonga on a Tuesday night, and as the distance to cover really wasn't more than 40 km, there was no reason to worry about the late departure.
As so often before, getting out of the city was a hurdle: the signposted bicycle route always disappeared at crucial moments (at crossroads) and was once again far from straight, I gave up trying to follow it and decided to just try to get from one suburb to the next. This turned out to be a working solution, as there was hardly a km along the way to wuppertal when I wasn't traversing one.
Upon approaching Wuppertal, I saw something quite extraordinary: Riding through the suburb of Wohwinkel I noticed that a railway had been built on top of the main street, running above the traffic for as far as the eye could see. This in itself would have been innovative, but when all of a sudden I heard an escalating noise from above and looked up, I was truly startled: Above me there was a tram, not running ON the tracks as I had assumed, but HANGING FROM them!
Later, I found out that this hanging tramway is indeed something that Wuppertal is famous for. There and then, I felt like a stupid tourist, but still could not resist the temptation to take some photos. As it soon began to rain quite heavily and I took cover under a bridge, I had ample opportunity to observe this way of organising public transport. What is truly novel in it (for me) is that it is largely built on top of a river, with the carriages swaying above the water as the tram meanders in the narrow valley. As I was to discover later, this swaying produces a slightly nausenous feeling when riding in a tram, especially if one happens to look down.
I had done a search on the internet about places to stay, and now had to take myself to the youth hostel that was way out of the city centre, high up on the hill overlooking the valley. It was certainly the steepest and longest climb of this trip so far, but by no means impossible. At the hostel, I was lucky to get the last remaining free room, as the place was teeming with children, all running around and screaming as only kids on an outing can. I did not mind, as I knew they would be quiet by the time I got back from my milonga!
The venue, Cafe Ada, must have been one of the nicest I have seen on this trip. With high ceilings, wooden floors and loosely grouped tables it was really ideal for a milonga, and as I found out, actually was part of a dance schoot that had its studio upstairs.
I danced with a handful of leaders, some of then quite skilled too, but could sense that although my feet are now almost back to normal, my mind still hasn't quite weaned itself from the quite special atmosphere of last weekend's Tangocamp. Thus, I did not really feel quite my usual enthusiasm, and actually felt quite content to just sit, watching others dance.
This way, I could test the hypothesis that has been forming in my mind about the German tango style. Obviously, it consists of many things, but one feature stands out: here, a huge majority of men dance with their belly forward, thus searching to guide the follower's movements with their gut, instead of the chest as is traditionally taught. I find it actually quite funny, as the bellies aren't necessarily any bigger than anywhere else. Rather, it seems to me that German men are almost Proud of their bellies, and seem to find it quite pleasurable to have it in contact with a woman's bosom (or, obviously, her belly, should she have one that protrudes)! To me, this gives a whole new meaning to the expression of 'belly dancing'! :-)
Comments
Post a Comment