Dance, dance, dance

I don't know if you know this but one of the things I wanted to do when I came here to BsAs was to learn Tango. I did take lessons but it was difficult - and I don't just mean the actual learning to dance. As a woman who is taller and wider than the average Argentine man, who is older than the majority of those learning and who, unfortunately, has two left feet, it wasn't successful. I tried two different places but, in both, I ended up watching more than dancing. It's a lonely, lonely feeling standing on the edge of the dance floor while everyone else is partnered, knowing that there are men who have 'gone to the loo' rather than ask me to dance. It didn't help that Tango is a partner dance in which the man has to lead (ie know what he is doing) and requires the woman to lean on him for balance.

Anyhow, today we went to San Telmo. This neighbourhood is steeped in Tango and at the weekend there is a huge bric-a-brac and antique market (satisfying for my dad). The sun was hot but a cooling breeze was blowing as we made our way slowly through the throngs of tourists picking over the goods for sale. M&D bought a fridge magnet.

We ended up in the main square where the Tango display was. We were lucky enough to find somewhere to sit and watch without anyone standing directly in front of us, blocking the view. A young couple danced and M&D were impressed. I thought it a bit flashy (a little knowledge is a dangerous thing) but I did enjoy it and I'm glad we went.

Now I think they understand why I gave up!