Cold Feet (Antwerpen)

After two days of dragging my feet, I cannot think of any more excuses to prolong this: I just HAVE to get back on the road. For some reason, this last stretch of the trip seems almost impossible to start. I am hesitant about every single thing regarding it: the route; how many days to budget, whether to take the train for a part of the journey, whether I even want to do it anymore. And yes, I suppose I better admit it, I am also worried about how I'll manage in France. It is silly I know, as after all, I have travelled in places far more difficult, but still, crossing the border makes me really nervous.

Last night's milonga in Antwerpen was housed in an old circus (?) tent a little bit outside of the city centre. Getting there involved, once again, a 15-min ride through some deserted wasteland by the docks, and cycling in the fast deepening dusk (and drizzle) I could not help asking myself if one of these days I will get into trouble on these journeys for tango. Although there was nothing truly scary, I was on my own in a bit of a shady neighbourhood, and obviously, the armed robbery I went through in Zimbabwe has left its marks on my sense of security too. Fortunately, there seemed to be no suspicious types lurking on the deserted streets, and once I had located the tent, shaded by big trees in the middle on a recreational park, I felt I could relax again.

Dancing with Mo.

The milonga turned out to be really enjoyable, with lots of people, a nicely relaxed atmosphere and some pretty creative music choices. Here, once again, seemed to be no great fixation with the 'proper' way to arrange the music, so the tandas consisted of a truly wild mix of classical music, neotango, non-tango as well as, and they truly were in the minority, the more conventional stuff that one is so used to hearing in every milonga around the world. I did not mind the unusual music choices at all, but must say that I felt a bit sorry for the more inexperienced leaders who had a huge challenge in trying to navigate their way through some of the more adventurous stuff.

It had been my hunch that dancing here would be good, and I was happy to see that I had been right. There were leaders of all levels, it was easy to get invited to dance, and few people seemed to be dancing only with the 'safe bets' (their regular dancing partners). To my surprise, though, there did not seem to be any latinos, as in my mind I had probably been hoping for a house full of Argentinian sailors :-). Even without them, however, I had lots of really good dances, as for once, I got to dance with all the leaders I wanted to.

My own dance seems to be in a constant process of change, as every night I am finding some new aspects to how I can move, and every night there is some revelation on how to do things more naturally, more organically, more spontaneously. Obviously, the fact that I am dancing with new leaders every nights also helps, as adjusting to different dance styles (and essentially, new personalities, as this is reflected in the dance) keeps me sensitive and open to new influences. Yesterday, I had a true revelation about how much the position of my pelvis affects the dance. Due to recurring back problems I need to be quite careful to avoid arching my back, but yesteday there was a moment (while dancing milonga, of all dances!) when I really understood how it feels when I have my pelvis underneath my centre of gravity, and how easy it makes everything. No matter how fast the steps, how sudden the change of direction, I can follow effortlessly when I am on top of my pelvis instead of letting trail behind me. With this new revelation, I was rediscovering all those familiar components of tango. Amazing how much a small adjustment can affect the whole experience!

In fact, I had such a great time that I lost all sense of time, so when the milonga ended some time well after 1 am I was truly surprised. This would obviously mean that I had to reconsider my plans of having an early start (the memory of that one day of riding tired is still clear in my memory). This morning, still lying in bed and trying to muster up the enthusiasm, I finally made the decision: I will postpone my arrival in Paris by one day and take 3 days for this last stretch. This way, I dont need to fret about making it in time and will still have 3 nights to dance there. It was a really tough decision, but still better than the other options about taking the train in order to get there one day earlier. I set out to do this by bicycle, so that is what I will do.