Tango Brujo

Todo is going well. Last month at Negracha, I got talking to an Italian girl and discovered we were going to be in BsAs at the same time, so we arranged to meet up. Francesca is lucky enough to be here as part of her PhD project, interviewing economists, sociologists and politicians. She suggested we meet today at another tango school: Tango Brujo (Tango Wizard, in case you don't speak Spanish.) It was a beautiful studio, spacious and serene, with dark wooden floors, burgundy drapes and cushions, but no mirrors. (I like mirrors, me.)

The class was superb. The school is quite a long way from where I live. I had to take a taxi to get there, but I'm still going back for more, next week. There were just ten students in the intermediate class. The teachers were José and Natalia and they really looked after us. The focus was on the technique of colgadas, specifically changing direction with a colgada turn. I've not done these before and they took some mastering, but by the end of the lesson, I was doing them well. What am I going to do when I get back to London? Please, guys, come over and learn how to lead these moves, or us chicas will end up forgetting everything we've learned.

Francesca and I leched at the shoes downstairs on our way to have some lunch: we had a very tasty spinach and pumpkin tart and I had my first Quilmes, a very morish Argentinian beer: crisp, dry and very hoppy. Naaaice!

In the evening, I joined Lili and friends for a practica at the Western Hotel. I went early and joined the beginners class - as a leader. I learned how to lead the repentida, which is a kind of ocho cortado. The women were very patient. Predictably, people had difficulties pronouncing my name. The teacher, Carlos, kept calling me Sasín and Sasí, which reminded me of Zazie as in Zazie dans le Métro, a novel written in the sixties by Raymond Queneau (a must, if you haven't already read it.) Being a newbie in Beunos Aires, I feel a bit like the eleven-year old, wandering around Paris. I might just adopt her name. Zazie danse le tango. Hmmm.

The real highlight of the evening, however, was the parilla*, where over a dozen of us went to dine around eleven pm. (* A restaurant specialising in charcoal-grilled meat – the Hispanic equivalent of the Tandoori.) I ordered lomo de bife (loin of beef), because I'm worth it. And because I never permit myself to pay for one in a London restaurant. The steak (big as my face, it was), with salad and wine came to seven quid, including the tip. The company was great. Lili's friends were very interesting. Near me, there sat an architect, a lawyer, a university lecturer and Lili, who is a psychologist. I conversed in Spanish all evening and I've been invited to a parilla with tango outside Buenos Aires on the first day of spring.