Venturing to the Other Side (Helsinki, Finland)

Last night, I made one of my sporadic attempts at a night out without tango. Consciously choosing a casual style of jeans and t-shirt to contrast with the laces and satin that have become my usual Saturday night attire, I headed out to the surprisingly warm night, planning to check out some of the venues I used to frequent those days when I still had a "normal" life.
Two hours later, I still hadn't entered anything resembling a bar, but instead was walking around the city listening to Tanturi, DiSarli and Pugliese, my feet aching to dance. The lyrics, the melodies, and the emotions and memories brought by them, were just so much more engaging than anything a bar could offer. To my surprise, I realised that contrary to what I have thought, my love for this music is only growing stronger.
Tango is a sweet illusion, yes. But so is life.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Getting into the swing of it (Pärnu)

Well, after two days of cycling I have both good and bad news. The good news is that very little seems to have changed for me in terms of travelling this way. Yesterday, although getting out of Tallinn was as stressful as leaving a strange city on a fully-loaded touring bike always is, I quickly noticed that indeed, I had not forgotten how to do this. Nor did the little over 100 km I covered both yesterday and today seem impossible to do, although the last 20 km certainly took some willpower. One thing that has greatly eased my settling into the right mindset is the fact that my Dad is accompanying me for a few days in his camper van. This means that not only do I have a soft mattress to sleep on and someone to pay my meals (;-), most importantly, there is someone to encourage me on (in his case, this means trying to get me to put the bike on the van and driving with him instead of cycling, something that I obviously wont do :-). All this works in my favour, as does being able to get...
Read more

Paris, finally!

Image
Paris. Here I am, after all those weeks on the road, at the End of this Road. And I Love It: The city is lovely, the weather is beautiful, the people are friendly and the dancing is good. Most importantly, though, I feel really good about the achievement that took most effort in the very beginning and the last few days. As a matter of fact, I did get here already Friday evening, but time has just passed in such a blur that I simply have not had the time to sit down and write about it. Even as I write this (at 4 am on Sunday morning, having just returned from a milonga), I am about to fall asleep while seated, so I will need to be brief. On Friday morning, I had an early start from Peronne, and despite the minor (?) logistical problem of a 40-km stretch missing from my maps (funny, considering that they were the neighbouring pages of a series of maps) managed to cover most of the remaining distance without getting lost. This changed, however, the moment I got into the...
Read more

On family history, excess and moderation (The Hague)

Image
Perhaps as a logical continuation to my emotionally charged time in Amsterdam, the past couple of days have been filled with deep contemplation and reflection. In this, I have been helped along by long, meaningful conversations with inspiring people, some moving encounters on the dancefloor as well as a renewed contact with my family history. To my relief, Sunday night's milonga showed me that I was slowly recovering from the dazed state that those tangos in Amsterdam had induced in me, and that I was once again able to appreciate the many different kinds of leaders as well as the connection that I could establish with them. Until then, I had been caught up in a stubborn refusal to accept anything else but `The Best`, as often happens after a truly rewarding dance. Most importanly, I was reminded of the fact that just as in love, over half of the joy of pleasurable tango comes from sensing one's dancing partner's delight and enjoyment. I had many such tandas in Utr...
Read more