Many things are wonderful about this journey called tango, but there is nothing, nothing quite like sharing a Pugliese tanda with someone who hears it the same way as you.
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...
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...
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...
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