Barcelona III: Milongas and Prime Directives

2012/12/11 by Willow Running Hawk

Are you ready to tune into a new channel? You could call it the Universal Channel (no, not Universal Pictures; not the Disney Channel, either). Let’s call it the CLC: Cosmic Light Channel. Ready to tune in and have your DNA synced? Ready to get rebooted by the galactic synchronizer? I keep hearing from every twinkle twinkle little star, saying that our bodies are gonna be receiving electromagnetic pulses from the CLC which will greatly accelerate our own personal evolutionary journeys! Not a roller-coaster ride, please! Just a gentle ZAP! from the cosmic mother board, like the little slap on the bottom babies get after leaving the tranquil maternal seas.

Spock

A lot of that grey matter which most of us have never used to capacity (Hey! speak for yourself!) may finally be put to work! And not just for ourselves, but for the benefit of all humankind. They say we should NOT go online, not watch TV, not travel, not use electronic devices (you gotta be kidding! ya mean, wean ourselves from the mother boobie?) during our “stimulus package” makeovers to avoid a quantum leap out of the cosmic jamba juicer into the proverbial (uh-oh!) frying pan! Not good! Steer clear of the Dark Side! No burnt side with my jumbo meal today, thanks! Definitely gotta cut back to fruits and veggies, nuts and spuds, during your cosmic tune-up and chakra alignment! I mean, you wouldn’t pour Karo syrup into your gas tank before a major road trip, would you?

So, what should you do during your universal involuntary Solstice Synchronizing weekend? Well, food, sex and tango is always recommended… um, what else is there? More endorphins, please! Some serious prayer and meditation is always good idea, of course, with a little cosmic-chip wafer and wine. A scoop of Cherry Garcia in your smoothie will give you a better chance of chatting with you-know-who on the other side. Dark glasses to avoid being blinded by the Light. And don’t leave out the Xocolate!

Well kids, If we’re going to be the heros and heroines of a universal paradigm shift, let’s do it with style and class: Enzo Ferrari all the way! Max out your carbon-cylinder footprint! Be the protagonist of your own story, not the silent witness! If you decide to hibernate (highly recommended by non-tango dancer friends), stay at home, read, fix a fruit salad, bake your own bread, play with your kids, be creative! Make your own post-apocalypso holiday greeting cards, write a story and read it to your cat or dog (your cat will just fall asleep; your dog may provide helpful critical feedback).

So, just to be on the safe side, keep in mind these universal mandates:

Resistance is futile (the Borg)
Mutate now, avoid the rush! (Katie & Renie)
Resist much, obey little (Edward Abbey)
If you don’t like the news, go out and make some of your own! (Cosmic Muffin)

and these other guiding principles of La Vida Tanguera:

1) keep doing it
2) every time you do it you feel happy
3) it turns your life upside down but you don’t care.

La Yumba… our favorite Barcelona milonga!!

before the crowds

All the flavor of a real authentic Buenos Aires milonga!

delicious dance floor!

We also like the Acuarilonga: an open air milonga a few steps from the aquarium, in the harbor right next to the Mare Magnum, surrounded by water with a bridge that connects to terraferma.

Sorry, I forget the name of this next milonga! Only a few blocks from our Eixample neighborhood, near Carrer d’Árago x Calabria. PR for milongas, prácticas, tango classes and workshops is spread out on the pool table. Nice bar, nice floor, nice vibe! Now, if we can just find it again… that would be nice!

possibly, La Milonga del Café

Catalans really like to play with words. There are 9 million Catalan speakers in Spain — no wonder they want their own borders — I don’t know how that would affect their economy; the way things are now, it could hardly be worse. But I’m no economist, so don’t string me up! I mean, I still use my fingers to count, ok? (All those years teaching kindergarten…) But the wonderful Catalan way with words leads to all these delightful milonga names, such as la Acuarilonga, la Milongallega (a gallego is someone of Spanish descent); la Gratalonga (a beautiful time); a milonga on the fringes of town: la Arrabalera; a milonga with a well-polished dance floor: la Bien Pulenta. How fun is that? Another night we stumbled onto a really cool milonga with live music in a tiny club. The sound was pretty decent, dance floor not bad, nice lighting, good dancers… check it out!

Milonga Bellos Aires

We went to an evening concert at Teatro Grec, an outdoor amphitheater up on the hill called Montjuic (monte de los Judíos), site of a Jewish cemetery dating to the Middle Ages, now a park and home to the Barcelona Olympic Stadium and numerous museums and event centers. Are you ready to recite the Barcy museum litany? : there’s the MNAC (Museu Nacional d’Arte de Catalunya), the MACBA (Museu d’Art Contemporani de Barcelona), the CCCB (Centro de Cultura Contemporánia de Barcelona), el Museu Picasso, la Fundación Joan Miró, la Fundación Antoni Tapíes, el Museu de la Historia de la Ciudad de Barcelona, el Museu Maritimo, and of course, la Pedrera, one of Gaudí’s many masterpieces. There’s lots more museums and galleries, but ¡ya basta!

Dalí: the original iconic Art hipster

If you’re serious about Art, besides learning all the acronyms, reciting the litany, and looking the part (see above), you’ve got to get a museum pass, the Articket Barcelona.

It costs €30, saves you a ton of plata and no more waiting in lines. Pre-concert to-do list: kick back, have a drink, and watch the Barcy sky fade to indigo blue.

Teatro Grec

Tango en vivo! Juan José Mosalini, in center with white hair and sensational bandoneon, in the midst of his superb orchestra.

Orquesta Juan José Mosalini

Nothing like the earthy atmosphere of ancient rock-quarry walls ceilinged with stars for awesome sound; mix in a few spotlights slowly morphing from blue to purple to red, highlighting the orchestra and the dancers. I was swept away by a sense of timelessness: what a fabulous evening!

dancers in white

Mosalini had different couples wearing different colors to complement the different Nuevo Tango pieces, including several Piazzola heartbreakers.

dancers in red

dancers in… um… flowers

Recognize this couple?

Sebastian Jimenez y María Inés Bogado……winners of El Mundial, salon style, 2010. We saw them at the Sitges Tango Festival in July.

And how about that Pipa Club? I think we should spend another month in Barcelona just dancing at La Pipa, Plaza Real (ok, Plaça Reial in Catalan)…

we spotted our friend Gato Valdéz here

Who’s the guy next to Aníbal Troilo? Somebody please tell me!

We didn’t see Quarteto Irreal, but you gotta love the poster!

Yet another sizzling hot tango poster, exemplifying this absolutely electrifying Mediterranean port! But that’s not all… what about Barcy’s amazing soccer team?

Yes, I’m a Barcy fan. Can you tell?

Of course, you already know about the Gothic Quarter, el Ravel (next time you listen to Otros Aires’ tune, Rotos en el Ravel, listen to the words… they speak of the multiculturality of this famous and fabulous city, an “encyclopedia of humanity”). And you may recall the sunset Jazz Chill-Out cruise… but there’s more! I have yet to write about world-famous Catalan architect Antoni Gaudí (does the name la Sagrada Familia ring a bell?) and the Costa Brava: the meandering coastline heading north to France, not just vaguely, but very reminiscent of our own Big Sur.

la Costa Brava

Barcy just can’t be summed up in a few words, but let me try: so many hip young people, so much music, art, creativity: such a phenomenal scene! The delicious (and cheap!) tapas, delectable wine, sangria, cava… affordable public transportation (buses, subways, trains), free drinking water and recycling bins on just about every block; protests for Catalan independence every other day; corner cafés, pubs and bistros everywhere, plus the amazing nightlife: the bar scene, the nightclubs, the parties spilling into the streets at all hours… and a waterfront! Barcy reminds me so much of Buenos Aires. How do you spell culture, nightlife, fun times, outgoing, passionate and compassionate people? ¡ESPANYOLES BARCELONA CATALUNYA!

the Maritime Museum

But wait… hold everything! No, you’re not going to the Magic Fountains before looking at some of the world’s most stunning artifacts from early Catalunya. An old Spanish friend of mine, Miguel de Cervantes, always reminds us to educate as we entertain! Besides, where else are you gonna get ideas for next year’s Halloween costume?

La Pelirroja: biblical heroine

winged saints…

meditating monks…

All these lovely artifacts can be found in a beautiful former palace, the MNAC: Museo Nacional d’Arte Catalunya. My favorite Barcy museum, and former palace. (Please note: la Pelirroja is not her real name. Just foolin’ around.)

el Palacio Real on a very pretty day

gorgeous black steed – rider’s head in the clouds?

So if you want to see the Magic Fountains of Montjuic, you must begin at the stunning Plaza España, just down the hill, in the middle of a very busy intersection.

Plaza España by day

looking up towards the MNAC from Plaza España

You climb up the hill, sonambulate around the museum for a few hours until it gets dark, turn yourself around and, wow!! quite the view of Barcelona! In the next photo you can see the Plaza España lit up in the background, between the giant obelisks. The big round building, once a bullring, is now a huge shopping mall.

looking down from up top

Yeah, they get quite a crowd around dusk!

the sound of the water, the lights, the music…

Happy Holidays from Barcelona!!

And don’t for get to have a superlative transformative Solstice!

Over and out from Barcelona!

Barcelona I

2012/10/27 by Willow Running Hawk

We hit the ground running in Barcelona. Thanks to yours truly’s amazing sixth sense apartment locator, we lucked out and found a bright, spacious, modern apartment with a huge sunny terrace! Three metro stops (3 different lines: the red, the green, the yellow…) within a few blocks: north, south, and east.

my Chef made himself right at home

The weather was perfect: hot, sunny, Mediterranean!

our Barcelona terrace on Carrer Árago

Barcelona became a modern city in 1992, when the Olympic Games put it on the world map and jumpstarted a major urban transformation. The world rediscovered Barcelona: a city teeming with cultural vitality, its peoples inheritors of a millenary tradition of open-mindedness and cultural tolerance. Africans, Jews, Arabs, Christians coexisted in the busy port, an early trading post on the Mediterranean, and they still live here side-by-side today!

Barcy harbor

Cristóbal Colón pointing west

Did you know Cristóbal Colón (in the states he’s called Christopher Columbus) returned from his third and final voyage to the New World in chains? Crazy as a cuckoo. They don’t tell you how, on his last voyage, his ship anchored off another uncharted Caribbean island, and he made his crew swear on the Bible that he had discovered yet another New World.

Barcelona Port building

This awesome structure is la Aduana, right on the waterfront. That’s where you pay your taxes on whatever you bring into the country… like all that silver and gold they stole from South America!

la Aduana – the Customs house

Yea, royalty is so high-maintenance! How come the rest of us gotta keep forkin’ it over to pay their keep? If that ain’t the rich folks’ Entitlement program, then what in the bleep DO you call it?? I know, I know, calm down, after all, somebody’s gotta pay the upkeep on these beautiful luxury yachts! They deserve to be maintained in the style to which they’ve become accustomed… don’t they?

that’s the Port Vell Imax cinema in the background

We decided to go on a Jazz Chill-Out Sunset Cruise. Our catamaran was more like a third world transport vessel: no luxury, no bar, and as packed as a feedlot.

yea, but we still had fun!

The aquarium is also right on the docks, right next to the Maremagnum. The Barcy Tango community hosts a milonga there called la Acuarilonga. How cute is that name? We danced till early morning one night under the towering rooftop, as a salty-sweet breeze caressed us and kept us cool.

The building in the background below is the Maremagnum, a huge 3-story mall where we tango’d one evening on the deck overlooking the water. My intrepid photographer Benjamín took this gorgeous shot:

the Maremagnum from the water after dark

and this one of the harbor:

how beautiful is that?

On our way back to the dock we passed a stunning sailing ship lit up like Christmas Eve.

so beautiful, like la Noche Buena!

Let’s let this tall sailing vessel anchored at the harbor plaza take us back in time to explore the oldest part of Barcelona:

don’t you just love the color of that water?

The oldest part of Barcelona is the Quartier Gótico, the Gothic quarter. Here medieval towers and churches cast long shadows over the remains of the early Roman city.

Roman ruins underneath the Plaza Real

a cántaro: a Roman era wine or water jug

We spent a long hour one afternoon winding our way around the raised walkways that skirt the various archaeological sites underneath the plaza. They excavated an entire block underneath the Plaza Real. You can see the old Roman baths, like modern-day spas, with separate men’s and women’s dressing rooms, hot tubs and lounges, workout areas… the vintner’s shop with grape-presses, tasting rooms… shops where fabrics were dyed in huge vats, and hides were processed… apothecaries… don’t forget your love potion No. 9 and poison for your enemies; hey! what about some sleep potions like Romeo & Juliet used? and of course they had all kinds of stuff for your bi-polar melt-downs and romantic delusions… all natural, and USDA certified organic!

they had horses and fashionable riding gear

The mosaic floors! The frescos! Man, those early Romans were interior designers! Their living spaces were so gorgeous, no sheetrock or aluminum trim in their neighborhood! Down under the plaza you can even see their old clay water pipes and sewers. Exploring the underground labyrinth takes time and energy, an hour at least, and when you finally glimpse the light of day through an open doorway, you’re on the opposite side of the plaza from where you started!

Let there be Light!

You emerge, not just into the sunshine, but time-travelling at warp speed a thousand years into the future!

back in real time… but how would you know?

This ancient portal could be your own personal time machine! If only those doors could talk….

portal on the Plaza Real

Right across from the museum entrance is a tiny little fan shop, packed floor-to-ceiling: all colors, sizes, materials from plastic to wood to paper to silk, adorned, unadorned, from plain to ornate, affordable to outrageous, cheap to elegant; in short, a fan for every woman!

flights of butterflies can’t compare….

Barcelona is a mix of all of these elements: the millenary history, fast-forward to twentieth century modernist creativity, mix in the personality of each neighbourhood — you’ve got a really special place. Barcelona is like no other city in the world!

Gothic quarter

simply stunning!

gargoyles like Notre Dame

A certain 20th century caped crusader really goes for gothic… Gotham City Chic. He probably took his first flight out of that tower… or maybe this one.

la torre gótica

Barcelona Cathedral

Barcelona has fabulous food, cafés, nightclubs, la Rambla… which is so crowded by day it reminds me of pedestrian streets in Buenos Aires, like Calle Florída, which used to be full of manteros, people who spread a manta (blanket) on the ground and pile their wares on top. After some violent clashes with local law enforcement, the manteros were driven out of the tourist zone. Things were a lot nicer and quieter, and you didn’t have to walk with your hands in your pockets to keep the pickpockets out of them. Barcelona has similar problems, but their street-hawkers have stalls and permits. Barcy, to its credit, has enormous recycling containers on every block. And like Paris, Barcy has public water spigots on just about every block.

typical Barcy street fountain

Back in the days before indoor running water, people filled their jugs and buckets and water skins every day from the public fountains. The Romans are generally credited with building aqueducts to bring water to where it’s needed; pretty cool idea! Arabs also have a history of bringing water into their homes, and they bathed a lot more than the Christians! Legend has it you could smell a Christian trading ship from way across the water, by the stink of the crew! Couldn’t they at least bathe in salt water?

Ahhh, refreshing! This beautiful fountain can be found at the Alhambra, the exquisite Moorish palace in Granada, in southern Spain.

OK, readers, listen up. I have to tell you there is so much to see in Barcelona, I just can’t squeeze it all into one post! Tango shows, Flamenco shows, Gaudí, early Catalunyan art, the best milongas of Barcelona, the Magic Fountain…. and then there is our road trip along the Costa Brava, the Big Sur of the Mediterranean coast. So I’m going to close now with a sunset photo of the harbor… can you make out the statue of Cristóbal Colón?

Port of Barcelona

Ciao from Barcelona!

Spooky Milonga

2012/10/24 by Willow Running Hawk

One evening in late June we jumped on a bus and rode it all the way down Rue Tolbiac, almost to the end, a block from the François Mitterand library. Looking for a milonga, we walked past the funkiest trashiest old building I’d ever seen. It had a medieval tower whose top was wrapped in netting… some kind of restoration? Keep the hunckback from flinging rotten fruit on passersby?

tower tour, anybody? Eiffel Tower it ain’t!

A set of windows on the 2nd or 3rd floor was painted into a giant gaping mouth with sharp monster teeth, waiting to devour anyone who dared enter. Silly us, we hadn’t yet realized that scary building was our destination!

Who’s hungry? I am!

We kept walking, not seeing any place that looked like a milonga. Around the corner the sidewalk sloped down to the level of the ground. There was a big chain link fence, a parking lot full of junky cars, graffiti everywhere, weeds, broken windows, trash… where the yada yada were we going?

colorful graffiti…

Ben spotted an opening in the chain link, with a paper taped to it that said Milonga Los Frigos and an arrow pointing to a trail leading around the side of the horrific palace.

boho chic?

We ducked under some trees and plunged into the semi-darkness of a shady overgrown courtyard slash/ abandoned side yard.

the spooky path

After a few steps we saw the twinkle of tiny lights through an opening in the brush. Three young people sitting around a card table came into view, smiling and looking completely normal. Could these be the demented gatekeepers of a horrific palace? Had we just entered the Twilight Zone?

We paid our €7 each. Apparently still having that deer-in-the-headlights look about us, the slim young Parisian (she spoke a little Spanish) led us along a dirt trail that led to the cobblestone patio and then, happily, towards what looked like a bar in a cave. Emerging from darkness into light is always a little confusing. We thought maybe the bar was the milonga, but she said it was just the bar, and so we walked past it (you could hear Billie Holiday singing softly) to yet another cave-like room on the ground level. By now we heard the music and saw open doors on a small wooden deck leading into — you guessed it — the milonga! Couples were dancing, and others sitting around small tables lit with candles. The ceiling was a series of stone arches paved with brick (we were right under the overpass) and the dance floor was, well, not great, but … what else do you expect at a monster’s ball?

trés jolie!

….and so we danced happily ever after in the remodeled troll cave. With French champagne in hand we toasted the classic sounds of Orquesta Sans Souci, Sexteto Milonguero, Canaro, Troilo, Biagi, Caló, de Caro, Pugliese, Enrique Rodríguez and other Top 100 Tango Tunes. We drank to bat caves, badger dens, rabbit warrens, hobbit holes and other warm snuggly hideaways. We danced underneath Rue Tolbiac, left bank of the Seine, 13th Arondissement, and we kept dancing until we dropped. Perfect, blissful, tango exhaustion: you try to pace yourself, but another favorite song comes on and a mysterious underground force compels you to get up and dance some more!

BOO!

Happy Halloween!

Paris Retrospective

2012/09/19 by Willow Running Hawk

shock and awe at Deyrolles

One night I dreamt I was still in Paris, at Deyrolles. A fabulous scene was filmed here, in Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris. In the dream, Ben and I spent a couple of hours just prowling around upstairs, and more than a few critters seemed to come to life before my eyes!

how do you think we look, dear? deer? aunty antelope?

I felt like I’d taken a step back in time. Perhaps a time warp of the imagination? Deyrolles still sells dessicated butterflies (dead, but still pretty), stuffed birds, and so on and so forth…. the price tag increases exponentially with the size of the dead critter, especially when the number of legs goes from 2 to 4 (with the exception of their insect collection, of course).

Oops! just noticed the grizzly?

Paris reverberates with music and musicians… every summer they have la Fête du la Musique, a big music festival, with free music all over the city, from small neighborhood cafés and clubs to giant concert halls and expo centers. We stumbled on this antique instrument shop one day as we were strolling around aimlessly… one of the best ways to see Paris.

old musical instruments for sale

are those lyres beside the harps?

Walking around Paris you find stuff you never dreamed of… like the best chocolatiers in the world.

Cocteau: avant-garde eggs

Unfortunately the average tourist who “does” Paris in a 3-day hypertour only gets off the double decker tour bus to file into the Louvre to see la Gioconda, and is too exhausted at the end of the day to relax and mingle with locals. Here are a few pix (hard to choose!) of some splendid creations:

Apricot pistachio tart…. yum

the essential baguette, fit for palace or attic alike

Ben, the aspiring baker, comments that the ONLY reason bakeries open (for a few hours) on Sundays is because people have to have fresh baguettes every day!

Salvador Dalí, well-known Spanish baguette lover and surrealist, did a fine series of illustrations for Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll’s fantastical story about a girl who wandered into a stranger than strange land. We saw the exhibit at the Espace Dalí in Montmarte. Dalí’s ink drawings are amazingly delicate: such loving, precise and precious details… perhaps intended for a particular child, as was the book. Of course, Alice in Wonderland IS a children’s book… for the imaginative child in all of us.

white rabbit

Dalí knew that even Angels need a little extra support sometimes.

even Angels have rough days…

Salvador Dalí circa 1940

And since this is a retrospective with some of my favorite Paris photos, here’s Adam giving God a drag in Montmartre:

maybe this explains why so many Parisians smoke

Angels on both sides of the Atlantic

The above angel is from Recoleta, in Buenos Aires. Our own Mackinze is perhaps a less worldly Angel, but she sparkles even brighter than the crystal chandeliers of Versailles!

“she doth teach the torches to burn bright!” (Will Shakespeare)

Speaking of worldly, unworldly, otherworldly… (am I missing anything here?) in Paris I noticed that, despite the monstrosities you see in Vogue or on the fashion page, what women REALLY wear is what you see in the shop windows on the Champs Elysées.

I’d wear it too if I had the bucks!!

But la femme does not live by frock alone; we must accessorize!

Spanish fans are wearable Art. Vale?

This amazing fan shop is right across from the Museo de la Historia de Barcelona, Plaça del Rey. (Please excuse the Barcelona photos, I couldn’t resist!) Needless to say, I bought several, even some teeny tiny ones!

this is only one wall…

One cannot recall Paris, retrospectively or otherwise, without seeing the Louvre again. It’s huge, stunning, imposing… even intimidating. Imagine being a peasant from the 18th century, seeing the city for the first time! A LIFE-CHANGING EVENT!! Even if you’re a 21st century worker-drone!

the Louvre from across the Seine

nice front door… yeah

my favorite street artist, Miss.Tic

My favorite Starbucks, so Parisian!

on the Champs Elysées

How about my favorite guy in the universe?

traveling tanguero, takin’ it to the water

Here he is at Sunderland Club.

who’s the babe?

COMING SOON: my long-awaited post on the Sitges Tango Festival!

Ciao from North America!

Medieval field trip: Luxembourg, Gargoyles and Provins

2012/08/01 by Willow Running Hawk

Luxembourg Castle

One fine day we left Paris for a weekend drive to Luxembourg. The french countryside is so very beautiful, so very lush this summer, on account of all the rain. Abundant greenness everywhere, though not as wild and untamed as the more remote places back home in California.

old path and steps in the river bottom, near the castle moat

The french are so neat and tidy, so meticulous! I thought only the germanic tribes were like that! We took back roads and drove through village after village, each one so perfectly cared for, so historic. Here you can see the juxtaposition of three eras: medieval, eighteenth century and twentieth.

which era would YOU choose to live in?

Downtown Luxembourg was bustling; people were eating, drinking, shopping, listening to music. A street fair was bubbling over one of the plazas, with entertainment and a huge yard sale.

kinda like Farmer’s Market in SLO

Every building is historic and well-tended. There must be hordes of worker-ants crawling around every day inside and out, keeping it all so perfect for us lucky tourists.

a quiet plaza in Luxembourg

Part of the old castle fits like a jigsaw puzzle into the natural rock formations carved out by the river a few eons ago.

some good hidey-holes there

this gorgeous building caught my eye

I stole this photo of Luxembourg lit up at night:

looks prettier without the skyscrapers

We found more old rock walls on our way back to Paris. It was like the family field trip minus the kids; late afternoon and we were hungry. We took the turnoff to Provins almost by accident: it looked big enough to have a restaurant that might still be open on a Sunday evening. As luck would have it, we drove into a medieval village le plus belle de tout. A middle-eastern café was still open and quite busy. While throwing down hummus, pita bread and baba ganoush, I couldn’t take my eyes off the church across the street, where a diverse clan of gargoyles guard ancient stone.

parts of it are more vintage than others

Eagle gargoyle

Big Bird gargoyle?

Old Woman Gargoyle with Message

Porky Pig?

I give up: dog-dragon-gargoyle?

I thought maybe some of them were griffins but Wikipedia says griffins have the body of a lion with an eagle head. Gargoyles, as you know, are there to protect churches from evil spirits and other wandering disembodied bad vibes.

a goat gargoyle

I thought THIS was a GRIFFIN. WHOA!! Please note!! CORRECTION!! Our good friend Adrian from San Luis Obispo, who happens to be British which of course makes him an expert on cathedral decor, writes: “Incidentally, the creature you have at Font St. Michel is a wyvern, not a griffin, since it has the hind quarters of a serpent – preferably with a barbed tail.” Oh my gosh I had no idea!! Knowing this could come in real handy, especially if you time-travel to the middle ages, or have a nightmare where a wyvern is going to toast you if you don’t answer the riddle about how his tail came to be barbed.

detail of Font St. Michel, Paris, Latin Quarter

Wikipedia sure has some amazingly curious articles on a host of obscure topics! Our wyvern doesn’t have a dragon’s head, but a lion’s. In every other respect it is undoubtedly a wyvern. This oddity is “a frequent heraldic device on British coats of arms and flags… A golden wyvern is believed to have been the symbol of the ancient kingdom of Wessex.”

a golden wyvern

So why are griffins part lion and part eagle? “As the lion was traditionally considered the king of the beasts and the eagle was the king of the birds, the griffin was thought to be an especially powerful and majestic creature. Griffins are known for guarding treasures and priceless possessions.” I think I want one!

Provins church: note the older portions mixed with more recent

The arched doorway of the church in Provins reminds me of Notre Dame de París, but with way less fuss: broad strokes as opposed to devilish details. Compare it with the doorway of this catedral in the Gothic Quarter of Barcelona:

Barrio Gótico

And for more comparison here’s the lady herself: Notre Dame de París:

Notre Dame is famous for her gargoyles and her hunchback, from the story by Victor Hugo

Once you see one gargoyle, you start seeing them everywhere! Here are some from that cathedral in Barcelona.

A few gargoyles to protect from Dark Side flybys

Little Provins turns out to be a big stop on the European Medieval circuit…. remember the Renaissance Faire? This is where it lives. Time stood still here in 1429, when Joan of Arc went to mass accompanied by Charles VII.

Wow! She is one of my favorite saints… that girl really rocked the boat — and paid the price. My favorite, unforgettable painting of her lives in NYC, at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

St. Quiriace was built in 1160, partly destroyed by fire in 1662, and is pretty much out of service these days, you can’t even get a peek inside. But the vibes there are amazing; we loved it. Here is a statue of Joan of Arc in Paris, wearing solid gold armor. I can’t seem to find my photos of her; this is off the web:

correction: this one is MY photo of Joan of Arc!

St. Quiriace

Here I am at the doors:

yes, I go to church occasionally!

wabi-sabi detail

the watchtower next door

This is the old keep, or watchtower, sometimes called Caesar’s tower. We circled it.

Ben likes ancient rock walls too.

Provins is an amazing place, definitely the spot for all you history buffs. I couldn’t stop taking pix of the old houses, they are so beautiful!!

a busy corner in Provins

part of the old moat

How cool is that!!?!

a pretty country cottage

on the outside, a rustic cottage

On the inside… I’d be happy to decorate it for you!

the banker’s mansion?

City Hall or an official residence?

Provins is a living town, albeit a tourist town: how convenient. However it is located in the midst of some of the most beautiful countryside in the world! Its rolling green hills are like California’s wine country in spring. Just gorgeous. By the way, don’t get Provins, the town near Paris, mixed up with Provence, a wine-growing region in southern France, close to the Mediterranean coast: Marseilles, Aix-en-Provence, Cannes, Monaco. Not a bad spot to combine vacation and business: just ask James Bond!

Thanks to all of you for your emails, comments and likes. I really appreciate news from home. It helps me feel connected and not adrift somewhere in the universe…. sometimes I wake up and it takes a few moments to get oriented…. where the heck am I?

Next blog up: Tango Festival in Sitges, and fabulous Barcelona!

Au revoir, Paris!

Enchantment in Paris

2012/07/07 by Willow Running Hawk

Have you ever torn off the top of a paper sugar tube? A few minutes ago I popped a top, turned it upside down, and accidentally dropped the whole tube of sugar, which sank, bow first, straight down into my coffee. I thought I’d seen the last of it, but just then the white tube rose slowly from the depths and popped back up! Magical! I managed to grab the stern end before it sank again; I wiggled and shook it gently just above the dark sea, and the pretty white powder slid sweetly and uneventfully back into the dark chocolate-colored brew. Amazing!

Sugar magic

Tossing the empty wet paper into the trash, my heady sense of fait accompli spoke to my earthbound self with just enough ridiculous praise to send me over to my laptop, not quite ready but perhaps willing to set a few words in order, hoping they’ll sort of spill out on their own, like they do on the good days, when it’s all I can do to crank them out as fast as the thoughts pop into my head… bolstered, of course, by the last cup of coffee, which picked me up out of a scattering of random thoughts as I watched the grey skies turn even darker. Like the continuing off and on rainy weather, which perplexes even meterologically inclined Parisians, I trust my thoughts to arrive in a similar fashion: on again, off again, as random as a herd of cats and just as unpredictable. Which they do. Arrive, that is. Unexpectedly and from who knows where?

Belle Epoque bling

Ahh… you gotta love Paris! Life is good. That gorgeous mansion on the Champs Elysées, a block from the Arc de Triomphe, is a musée (museum), one of hundreds in Paris.

Pont Alexandre – in honor of Alexander the Great

The little poppies and the fragrant basil and parsley Ben planted on our balcony have been thriving on these spring — now summer — rains. Paris is a green oasis of busyness, the traffic kept in check by sidewalk cafés where time stands still… and no one ever brings the bill until you ask for it.

Les Deux Magots

Life imitates Art and vice versa

Ancient walls and monuments are a constant reminder of the fleeting life cycle of us two-leggeds. Beautiful fountains here and there are a tranquil pools of Rest & Relaxation in the midst of it all.

a fountain in the Luxembourg Gardens

close up

I love this twelfth century wall near St. Etienne’s and the Pantheon. The plaque credits Philippe Auguste for building the wall.

XII century soundproofing

To Great Men your Country Recognises You

Abundant greenery is balanced by ancient stone…

Musée Rodin

cool cobblestone passages…

no trash in sight, either

…the Feng Shui of timeless stone and flowing water.

Font St. Michel

Louvre & Carrousel Arch

Versailles

Versailles Gardens

Sleeping Beauty awakens!

While touring Versailles we accidentally woke up Sleeping Beauty! We chased her thru the gardens, then into the Royal Palace where we followed her from one glittering room to another, so dazzling they seemed make-believe!

please have a seat…

Definitely the turf of a hometown princess. She knew every secret door and passageway, each spiral staircase leading to dungeon, scullery, towers…

Who has the key to unlock the golden gates?

We finally pinned her down in the Medieval Library. The trick was to open a book and read her a story: she was a captive audience! After listening to a few French tales of bravery, duels and treachery to the Crown, she told us her sad tale of woe.

no discount: not an energy saving light fixture

“Please let me come with you,” she begged. “Release me from captivity and take me to the 21st century!” We were willing, but insisted she trade in her glass slippers for a pair of trademark jeans — French couture, of course. 17th century meets 21st!

Hall of Mirrors

Goldilocks vs Goldfinger?

Versailles vs. Versace? We promised her three squares and a calico kitten to cuddle. Her first meal in our reality — cheeseburger, ice cream and coke — was wolfed down faster than you could say Little Red Riding Hood.

a well-balanced meal

We offered her the grand tour, but she declined the double-decker sightseeing bus; modern petrol-sucking machines give her the heebie-jeebies. She’s quite environmentally conscientious for someone who’s been asleep for 300 years! Alas, the coach house was empty: our sturdy draft horses were sent up to summer pastures in the high country. So our pragmatic princess hoofed it around town with us in her flip-flops and never complained, not even under her breath — although we did catch a few eyeball rolls!

May I have one of each, please?

We marched along happily in our quest for the best chocolate in Paris. Christian Constant was our knight in shining armor, with his jasmine and orange blossom scented petit fours, leaving a trail of bittersweet implosions in our mouths…

Avant-garde chocolate eggs

We were taken on a close-your-eyes journey tracing the old chocolate trade route through India and Arabia — where essence of Rose, Vetiver, and Ylang-Ylang leads to Tahitian vanilla, Verbena, Corinthian raisins, Cassis, Frangipani, Saffron, Chinese ginger and Cardamom from Malabar.

chocolatier haute chic

We tasted dark chocolate (ganache), almond praline, ginger praline, almond-hazelnut paste, raspberry mousse, Sicilian tangerine, bitter chocolate truffle. Holy Zocomoly! [Christian Constant, 37, rue d’Assas, Paris 75006.]

A la Mére de Famille, 35, rue Faubourg – Montmartre

Sleeping Beauty was wide awake, finally, cooled down by chocolate ice cream, the only known antidote to chocolate fever. We followed her into Starbucks on the Champs Elysées.

tres elegant!

We thought it only right to warn Sleeping Beauty about the “other” Starbuck:

father of many but accountable to none

After a much-needed coffee break (the Princess likes Caramel Frappuccinos) she wanted to test drive a Maserati race simulator, only €20 for 5 minutes, but we were afraid of losing her in hyperspace. But we did catch a glimpse of some really cool vintage rides.

Peugot Formula One?

Nissan Topless Retro

Ben took his time scoping out all the Fiats, Lancias, Renaults, Peugots, Maseratis, Aston Martins, and Ferraris in that pricey neighborhood. Sorry, no Cadillas, BMWs, Audis or Volvos… not even an old Chevy pickup! Sleeping Beauty opted for a more affordable transportation alternative: a horseback medieval warrior who nearly swept her off her feet!. She only had to put in a few quarters! Can’t see her astride that horse? Duh! She’s wearing her invisibility cloak!

guardian of Notre Dame

But we suspect she’s really after the handsome Count of Tivoli, a dashing young fellow from a good family:

Prince Charming?

That might be a kiss worth waking up for!

Notre Dame in the sunshine

So we flew past Notre Dame, scorned by our own little Princess who has the real dirt on what notre mére had been up that night about seven hundred years ago: fiddling with poison apples and deadly corsets were just a few of her evil games. But the Principessa had other fish to fry. She wanted to stop by the Louvre to see all those glorious paintings and sculptures of her friends from a bygone era.

Marie Antoinette and her children

Louis XV ?

Was she there when Napoleon crowned Josephine empress?

Louis XIII: 1610 – 1643

Louis XIII went off to make war; his favorite sport cost him his life.

party time in the sculpture section: waiter!

playful Louvre Lion

view of the Louvre from the roof of the Musée d’Orsay

view of the Louvre from the Seine

Sleepy Cinderella loved the Louvre; but all that Napoleonic bling made her hungry as an 11-year old Princess can be. We took the Metro to another quarter, and stopped for refreshments.

look who’s wearing my chapeau Italienne!

could we sell this ad to Coca-Cola?

either she got a refill, or I mixed up the order…

Obviously, she runs on Coke, burgers and fries. She begged us for mac & cheese but we don’t go in for processed foods. We had to draw the line somewhere! Emergency rations only! Give a princess an excuse and she’ll clean out your fridge!

Back at home base — Camp Ocean Pines it ain’t — not Camp Roberts either, nor is it Big Sur, Tuolumne Meadows or Groovy Beach — Sleeping Beauty morphed into Cinderella when she saw what a mega-mess our camp cook can make. We prayed for delivery of a flock of the ubiquitous Café Scrounger Pigeons to clean up our kitchen, but we got Cinderella instead. No more dust bunnies under the couch, or my best marinara sauce splattered and petrifying on the white enamel cooktop!

Cinderella for reals!

We were beginning to worry she’d be putting a call in to the Royal Inquisitor (aka Mom!) if we let her continue the cleaning frenzy, so we took her to see Midnight in Paris. Sure enough, Sleepy Cinderella loved it! Miss mise-en-scéne’s metabolism finally slowed down to a crawl. We got her tucked in for the night, downloading photos to her Facebook till she passed out. Now that her story has gone viral due to her gazillion aunties, uncles, cousins, first cousins, and adorable little sister, she plans to make big bucks singing and dancing on the silver screen AFTER she finishes the Vampire Training Academy. No wonder she can’t sleep before midnight! File those nails and don’t forget your fangs!

Cinderella loves to dance so she accompanied us to a few milongas, including one on board the NixNox, tied up at Quai de la Gare (Mitterand). That gently rockin’n’rollin’ dance floor sure adds extra altitude and torque to those giros! We strolled along the quay after sundown… about 10 pm Paris time.

France doesn’t do daylight savings

red party boat

quay-side cafés and restaurants

Nix Nox, the Tango boat

milonga on the Nix Nox

how cool is this!

Two weeks is a very short time to visit a city as big as Paris. Mackinze was almost tireless… we were proud when we did manage to tire her out! She climbed all the way up the Eiffel Tower (we did too!), danced on the banks of the Seine, kept watch while we adorned Pont des Arts with locks and tobacco ties, and gave spare change to musicians playing on the Metro and the clarinet player outside the Musée d’Orsay. She also sat thru a few episodes of my favorite telenovela, La Reina del Sur. I got hooked on it in Buenos Aires. I can read basic body language in the vernacular but, unfortunately, simple French conversation is beyond me. However, statements like “You’re toast, cabrón” and “my Russian friend is going to teach you to sing like a canary” come across quite clearly no matter what language is spoken!

Kate del Castillo

Ben and I turned Cinderella into a lover of all-natural French yogurt with organic granola and Senegalese mango. She liked the spaghetti and meatballs confected by yours truly, just like nonna used to make, except I don’t stand at the stove for hours rolling them back and forth in the frying pan till they are perfectly browned and as spherical as cue balls. Next day we had meatball sandwiches with fresh mozzarella on baguettes. The only thing missing was the jalapeños! She liked to sneak out in the morning and raid the local boulangeries for our breakfast staples: croissants, chocolate croissants, almond croissants… croissants with black tea or coffee.

Editor’s note: this post is turning into a novel, will you please bring it to a close!?

Friends and Family in the café at Versailles

My response: Sure boss, but our little takoja is so much fun, and she is so photogenic!

Ben’s in this one and I’m taking the picture

Cinderella strolled the banks of the Seine:

the Left Bank: rive gauche

we had nice weather that day

ghost reflection at the Queen’s dressing table

mesmerized with a Coke

Besties visit the Tour Eiffel

Mackinze climbed the Eiffel Tower as well as endless stairs at the Louvre and other museums and palaces about town, not to mention up and down to the Metro, and the 108 steps up to the apartment at least twice a day — usually running up! Way to Go Girl!

Grandpa Ben, Mackinze and me from the top!

view of Sacre Coeur from the Eiffel Tower

at the Arc de Triomphe

Musée Rodin

with King Tut

Cinderella petting a calico cat

Boat and Duck Races at the Luxembourg Gardens

She loves ducks! Photo by Mackinze.

la Principessa con Pére Ben

Cinderella had to go back to Never-Never Land…. sob! and we are already missing her. I wonder how much change she could collect if she spent a few hours meeting and greeting people while passing the hat (her new French chapeau) outside a local Starbucks…. so she can buy herself a Caramel Frappuccino! All you have to do is practice saying, “Bonjour! Café pour moi? Je suis tres jolie!” You can do it, girl!

at the Hotel Meurice, with attitude!

She might also look into dog-walking. You can make a lot of dough if you can handle a sizeable herd…. it’s not too soon to start saving up for college!

Arf! Arf! Bao Bao!

BE GOOD!!!

This post written especially for friends and family of Mackinze, Ben’s 11 year-old granddaughter and a shining star in all of our lives! All the rest of you are pretty darn special, too! Happy Fourth of July! Have a great summer!

Ciao from Paris!

Paris II

2012/05/28 by Willow Running Hawk

Can you guess where old Napoleon Bonaparte is buried? Who else gets a red porphry sarcophogas and and a golden dome?

dome me baby

If you get up high enough up, you can see the dome halfway across the city; it glitters in the sun.

RIP Napoleon

What a city! So huge and attractive and full of monuments, sculptures, beautiful old buildings, plazas, fountains …. remains of old roman walls, roads, columns. Just a big WOW!! What else can I say? The resemblance to Buenos Aires is striking. Only Buenos Aires is the younger sister who isn’t quite as good a housekeeper as her big sister. Urban transportation is excellent, by the way. The Metro is clean and crisscrosses the city both above and below ground. It runs from 5:30 am to 1:30 am for night owls like tango dancers, and to 2:30 am on Friday and Saturday nights!

This is the Hotel les Inválides. It’s not really a hotel, but part of a huge complex where soldiers were trained, including stables for the calvalry. The term “hotel” refers to its past function as a VA hospital.

Everyone needs a nice deep wide moat to keep goths and barbarians out!

and plenty of cannons doesn’t hurt

Ben surveys the moat on a warm day:

a nice resting spot after the forced march

Speaking of perimeter defenses, we walked around the bottom of the old moat that surrounded the castle that was knocked down when they built the Louvre. The Louvre began as a fortress built in the late 12th century under the reign of Phillip II. Remnants of the fortress are visible in the basement of the museum.

the deep of the keep

Speaking of the Louvre, here’s the front door:

wash me!

Napoleon also built a stunning opera house:

La Maison du Musique

with figures in green and gold all over the roof!

Wouldn’t you love to have a spacious, high-ceilinged apartment in a building like this? It overlooks a little park near les Inválides.

pricey apartments

A typical downtown street, busy, but not too much traffic:

green cross

The neon green cross denotes a pharmacy. We had our daily coffee break at the café on the right. Here’s the famous department store, Printemps. Not much to look at on the outside, kind of a postmodern pastiche, but on the inside…. super expensive designer clothes, shoes, everything…. an entire floor devoted to lingerie! The Printemps lingerie department makes Victoria’s Secret look like a Girl Scout pop-up store. So many different labels, each with its own floor space, displays, attendants. I have to confess, I bought a few pairs of stockings that were very expensive. I have never spent so much on stockings. Am I a bad girl? I hope so!

don’t even go near this place!

I also wanted a new lipstick, but not bad enough to pay 40 bucks for it! Even Ben’s mom Bess has been to Printemps, many years ago. And my mom says she still wears a blouse she bought there way back when. She and my dad heard Edith Piaf sing one night in a little club, after the war.

You can find any kind of hat in Paris, or have one made to order:

Paris hat shop

Parisian women here seem to like red shoes:

somehow it all comes together… kinda

I don’t think the heels go with the backpack…

but they do match the purse! When we walk around we sometimes stroll up stairways that lead to streets above, or below. Streets that have stairs can have street name signs just like other streets. This was not a hard climb for us; we do 6 flights up several times a day!

this one leads to Rue des Artistes

We stumbled on this street which appears to have been built, or rebuilt, in the early 1920s. So quiet, pretty, cobblestones, flowers; even room to park your smartcar!

how sweet is that!

It feels like time stands still in this quiet lane.

A unique style: Retro Deco?

If I lived in Paris I might consider a smartcar, just for its parkability, but that wouldn’t be very green-minded of me, would it? Sustainable urban ecology is the only way to go! But if I had big bucks, I could buy this Cooper Copy Cat…. sorry I didn’t catch the make! Can somebody out there tell me?

looks a lot like a Mini

Parisians are quite friendly. Even with the language barrier. French drivers do NOT try to run you over in the street, like in Buenos Aires. They actually slow down and stop! What a concept! Not everybody speaks English either, contrary to what I’d heard before. Maybe in Germany or Scandinavia, but not in France (or Argentina). I just use my Spanish or Italian, that works pretty well, plus I’m picking up a few words in French here and there. Ben says I can make friends in any language!

I have to show off our Buttes aux Cailles neighborhood. We love the open air market.

the deli

the fish place

fresh shrimp by the bucket!

I’ve never seen so many kinds of olives in one place!

got cheese?

don’t forget the blue cheese — goes great on figs!

a little dried fruit

And if you cook a lot, like we do, you’ll need some really good knives:

yeah, I know I’ve got a sick sense of humor!

he thinks it’s funny!

how about some flowers?

so pretty! 6 euros a bunch: about $7.50

The flower guy saw me taking pictures of the olive guy, so he had to have his picture taken too!

Gallic machismo!

And how about some absolutely irresistible pastries?

Yum!

I took that picture at a very chic bakery downtown. Here’s a pretty nice café on our block…. but we mostly cook at home. Paris is so expensive!!

Ben at the café on our corner of Rue de Tolbiac

Next blog up: Paris milongas and other night life!

Ciao from Paris!

Sexteto Milonguero and Wild Women of San Francisco

2012/04/13 by Willow Running Hawk

The other night we had the pleasure of listening to the high lonesome sound of SEXTETO MILONGUERO! These guys and gal can really throw down some dancing music! The celebration was the 6 month anniversary of a new milonga, La Coqueta de Recoleta. Here in Buenos Aires the milongas are usually packed, unless it’s early (before midnight) or late (after 4 am). But La Coqueta is quite danceable, the floor is excellent, table service very good, and the building is really and truly a Palace! Sexteto Milonguero plays a repertoire of tangos, milongas and valses arranged in the classic 1940s tango salon style. The group was formed in 2006 by singer Javier Di Ciriaco. Their music is high-energy, and made for dancing! Good music, good friends, good vibes!

Javier Di Ciriaco flashed his trademark white lightning smile as the band cranked out high-octane tangos, valses and milongas.

they can play fast milongas!

Sexteto Milonguero ended the show with two tandas in a row of classic milonga! If you tango you know what a rarity that is. The band was simply giving the crowd what they like best! All was astir in milonguero heaven!

view from backstage

Lucky us, we had seats backstage… the contrabajo player was on the floor fixing something with his wiring… Javier started off with a piece new to us, and he was singing better than I have ever heard him. I admit he used to remind me of Paul English, Willie Nelson’s drummer, who acted and dressed like the devil’s little brother. But I was pleasantly impressed! The 2 violins and 2 bandoneons screamed and wailed. We climbed down to the floor and spent the next couple hours dancing Tango… our favorite pastime and addiction!

Gervasio Ledesma, piano

La Coqueta de Recoleta is located in a beautiful 1913 home built by José González Balcarce and his wife Rosa Aguirre Anchorena, both members of the vintage upper crust of Buenos Aires society of the era.

dining room

Balcarce’s father was the godson of General San Martín, who gets major credit for driving the Spanish out of Chile, Peru and Argentina in the early 1800s. The Palacio Balcarce became the residence of the German Ambassador in the 1940s (it was a Nazi hangout), and later the headquarters of the Armed Forces Officers’ Club. If only the walls could talk…

la sala

Currently there is a restaurant on the second floor, and space is available for special occasions, weddings, and the like. The dance floor is upstairs on the 3rd floor. Pretty sweet spot for a milonga, ¿qué no?

Palacio Balcarce, Quintana 161, Recoleta

Willow, Javier Di Ciriaco

Tango is about containing and being contained, existing and coexisting, letting go of loneliness. Tango is improvisation is Freedom.

Did you know? There ARE other things to do in Buenos Aires besides tango. There are lots of great museums, for one, and its sidewalk cafés rank amongst the world’s finest! I’ve been studying Italian at the Dante Alighieri Association. The Italian language has been a passion for me since I first read the Divine Comedy, while I was an undergrad at UC Santa Cruz. I’m Italian on my mom’s side, and we have a ton of relatives in Italy! Here’s some photos from our dopo la sparatoria festa! (post-firing squad party!)

on Corrientes

quasi tutti!

thanks for your visit!

The good news is, we all passed our written and oral exams. And I hear there’s going to be another party this Saturday night at Bar de la Rue in Belgrano! Masks are requested but not mandatory. Ci vediamo!!

Speaking of fiestas, this lovely dancer, who had just finished a tango exhibition with her partner at La Nacional, was also celebrating her birthday! Don’t you love that sweet hopeful look on her face as she makes her wish?

Make a wish!

Yes, we were there also, with Ben’s daughter Courtney who spent a week here and took tango lessons just about every day. Way to go, girl!

she likes to tango, and...

she loves empanadas!

My excellent friend Marcela Hourquebie, superb dancer, fantastic tango teacher, judge of tango competitions (you may remember her from a previous post, Back on the Radar), celebrated HER birthday last weekend at Porteño y Bailarín:

FELIZ CUMPLE AMIGA!!

This photo of us dancing at Porteño y Bailarín is for Ben’s mom Bess, who requested a nice photo of us dancing:

for you Bess!

Oops, she probably wants a photo where she can see HER SON’S FACE!! Sorry, Bess! It’s coming up very soon…. but first, our good friends Dolores and Guillermo:

wow man

Guillermo is sporting the mandatory three top buttons undone for the classic Latin lover AKA sexy tango dancer look! The tall guy, AKA Benjamín, has made it (with my help) to two buttons undone so far!

Dolores, me, and Jane from Anchorage!

She didn’t really have a big red spot on her face! The lighting was strange last night but we kinda liked it! Maybe Ben’s camera fell into the vino tinto?

and a fun time was had by all!

Jane and I at Fulgor de Villa Crespo

he loves the impressionist atmosphere!

And now, FINALLY, the part YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR!!

OUR FRIEND KEN NARRATES HIS FEARSOME EXPERIENCE WITH SOME WILD SAN FRANCISCO TANGUERAS!

“Weirdly, the morning after the event, it was the alpha females who were most memorable for me.

“‘A’ kept up a running monologue of ‘okay, this is the part of the song where you do the molinete…now pause HERE, and let me play…’ sheesh! But, she was so much fun, who could resist?

“And ‘B’ who, when we first started to dance, I asked to please not rest her head on mine because I needed to move my head for navigation…. well, that didn’t work. We ended up head-to-head both facing straight down to the floor, and bent over in an improbable, stylized tango embrace so I could watch her feet, because at every ever-so-slight cadence or pause in the music, she would start ‘chopping cabbages.’ I laughed out loud every time she took the reins.

“There was ‘C’ who told me I must not hold her in tight embrace, that she needed to “train” me, that she wanted her right arm to be placed just so, that here she would do a dip, all the while narrating the the intimate secrets of those dancing around us. Shocking!

“And then there was ‘D’. She took me on a joy-ride milonga like I had never had, or… did I take her? (it was hard to tell) Absolutely like driving a Maserati up the Amalfi coast, and I’m ready to plunge off at any moment. Suddenly she stops dead. ‘Why is it,’ she ponders, ‘people don’t stop during the milonga?’ I thought, what the hell, so I also stopped us dead several times during the song, and each time she moaned in pleasure, ‘yes, oh yes….’ It was a milonga interruptus.

“Sometimes it’s the Wild Women who are the most fun!”

Thanks, Ken! And to MY READERS: Do you like Ken’s story? Send in your comments!

TANGO ADDICTION GUIDELINES

1: you keep doing it
2: every time you do it you feel happy
3: it turns your life upside down but you don’t care.

Ciao from Buenos Aires!

Colonia: Love and Struggle

2012/03/18 by Willow Running Hawk

We took a day trip across the Río Plata to Uruguay.

Why must we torture ourselves? Yes, riding the slow boat to Colonia is not for everyone. But we have to get our visas renewed every 90 days or Argentina might banish us! Perish the thought!

Seriously, if you don’t renew your visa before your 90 days are up, you could be charged a hefty fine when you exit the country. Apparently, this fine used to be so laughable (about 30 bucks) that it was actually cheaper to pay it when you leave the country, cause you can spend a lot of plata going across the river and back, especially if you stay in Uruguay for a few days. But with all the expats thumbing their noses at migración, guess what? Last I heard, they upped the ante to $400… who’s laughing now? No prob, we’ve learned there’s always a financial solution to every bureaucratic problem in Argentina.

Show me the money, honey!

We took the slowest, cheapest ferry (about 3 hours and 40 bucks each way) to Colonia. You can relax, read, walk around; the seating area is the size of a movie theatre, with comfy, wide reclining chairs, a snack bar and café, and the best part is…. you can go upstairs for fresh air in your face! I won’t bore you with a photo, just use your imagination… white boat, blue sky, brown water, multi-colored tourists. The best part was on the way back: we had an astronomer on board. The lights of Puerto Madero sparkled across the water as we craned our necks on the upper deck looking at visible planets in the inky sky – Jupiter, Mars, Venus – and constellations: the Southern Cross, Orion, the Pleïades. Beautiful!

The tall guy and I find Colonia relaxing: small town, cobblestone streets, outdoor cafés, and plenty of shops selling tourist trinkets and locally made items. We know a great steak sandwich place, and there’s some pretty nice restaurants as well. You can climb to the top of the lighthouse, walk on the wharf, kick back on the waterfront…

he likes a shady spot and a cold one

I told him about an old Italian ritual where you toss salt over your left shoulder to keep evil spirits away, and he figured it couldn’t hurt!

a salty dog ritual

the pier

We came across this barely standing old stone bodega, right across the road from the rocky part of the beach, around the point from all the tourist hangouts. A big rock is holding the roof down, and a spider’s web of what looks like baling wire keeps it more or less anchored to the walls. No code violations here: this is Uruguay! Around the side is a pretty tiled name:

Rancho Don Antonio

The lovely tiles on another stone cottage (below) were installed on the 300th anniversary of the founding of Colonia (1680), dedicated by Colonia’s sister city San Fernando Maldonado. Nothing like a poet to remind us that the basic themes of human existence really haven’t changed: “COLONIA: 300 years of Love and Struggle… Over Your Rooftops Time Stood Still.”

LUCHAS Y AMOR

Does all that water flowing under the bridge lead back to the same source? Some call it karma. Like, paybacks. Those with highly-tuned survival instincts have developed impenetrable armor to protect us from the sharp spears of love and the oppressive chains of the daily grind… like this tree: Ouch!

I have NO idea what kind of tree this is!

OK, no more philosophizing. You can work it all out on the dance floor, anyway. Isn’t that where tango takes us? To each of us, from each of us, your own particular place of harmony? Polishing that diamond in the rough? Here’s an example of letting go of stuff you don’t need anymore:

a vacant lot for sale

Some stuff just gets better with time, if it’s taken care of:

like this adorable red Fiat!

Vauxhall 12 - 1946

I’m not really sure about the production date of this vintage ride, but definitely before 1947… anybody out there have a clue? Let me know! Meantime you can pull up a chair here in Colonia, relax, and…

reprioritize your priorities!

I did!

Last minute thoughts and updates:

Friday night we were at Sin Rumbo with some friends and in walked in some awesome Bay Area milongueros: Marcelo Solis and his lovely wife Olga.

We hadn’t seen them since the workshop and milonga at Val and Mary’s last year in Pismo Beach. Great dancers and good people. We spent a few minutes catching up. And I finally got a smartphone snapshot of our friends from Villa Urquiza: Ytalo and Mercedes. This couple lives around the corner from Sin Rumbo, and have been dancing tango since they met and married 60+ years ago. They can still cut a rug!

Ytalo and Mercedes Sánchez

Last wednesday we also had the pleasure of seeing Facundo Posadas and his beautiful dance partner Ching-Ping. They took a table next to us at La Nacional; we visited. We have taken classes with Facundo in Buenos Aires, New York, San Francisco, LA, and Sacramento. The guy gets around! (Hey! So do we!) He’s a living legend fabulous milonguero!

Tangueros from all over planet earth are in Buenos Aires this week for CITA: Congreso Internacional de Tango Argentino. What does that mean to you? Well, if you’re here, you know that milongas which are always crowded become absolutely impenetrable! Let’s hope you’ve been practicing dancing with your partner in less than one square meter!

Ciao from Sueño Porteño in BsAs!

BA FLAT FOR RENT: a friend of mine from Italian class has a 2 bdrm 2 bath apartment for rent in Buenos Aires, a very nice flat in the neighborhood of Caballito, for a year or more, he and his wife and young daughter are taking an extended vacation with his wife’s family in Andalusía. Gustavo can be reached at: gustavogonzalezboccia@hotmail.com.

Living in Tango Paradise

2012/03/11 by Willow Running Hawk

Who is this guy?

I predict that Leonel Messi will be the first official consecrated and sanctified SAINT OF SOCCER!! I don’t mean a hundred years from now, I mean, LIKE SOON! Within his and our lifetimes! Because he has a gift straight from that upstairs-place, you know, HEAVEN!! You heard it here first!

If you’re addicted to Tango, you’re probably interested in all things Argentine, and no doubt you already know about Leonel Messi, Argentine soccer star. Messi, currently playing for Barcelona, is golden. This kid has already made more goals than just about every soccer player in the history of the sport and, at 24, is likely to top that list before 30. Messi is not just a great player, he’s magical. He moves the ball effortlessly around, under, over and through the other team’s defenders, like Clint Eastwood shooting down 5 outlaws before they even have a chance to draw. He’s famously unpretentious, not a showoff, not a bully, just a super nice guy. Once he has the ball and is closing in on the goal, he’s not a one-man show. He always kicks the ball to his teammates, setting them up for their own goals, but ready to take over and slide one in, and those poor goalies, they just can’t read him, and are always caught off guard. Some people have a sixth sense, others are just barely managing five, but Messi has a soccer sense! We love watching him play with his favorite toy, a soccer ball.

Uh-oh! It’s back to that old story for a moment, yes, the ashes from volcano Puyehue, just across the border in Chile. Before we left Patagonia we took a day to drive the 7 Lakes Circuit, starting in Bariloche heading northwest. And we did drive part of it, but due to the volume of ash in the air, not to mention the bumpy dusty gravel roads, we only drove through Villa Traful, so shrouded in ash you could barely see the lake, and on to Villa Angosturas, the epicenter of volcanic fallout. Villa Angosturas is still struggling to clean up. They hauled away several feet of ash, but it’s hard to finish the job when the volcano burps and spits out another ash plume every few weeks. Tourists, the area’s main cash crop, are still visiting the lakes but their numbers are way down from previous years. In the above photo you can see for yourself. Ashy landscape en route to Villa Traful: visibility almost nil!

Hotel Llao Llao with volcanic plume

In this photo Hotel Llao Llao is to the far left on a hill. Looking across Lake Nahuel Huapi you can see a giant plume of ash. It looks like fog, but it’s not! We watched this particular plume move in our direction for about 24 hours before it enveloped us. The following day it moved on, the sky cleared, and just a trace of ash remained.

Patagonian ducks at Lago Moreno

Wild ducks were still playing house on the lakeshore, and we took a nice walk through the Arrayanes forest to the lake pictured above. The sky was clear!

Ben in the Bosque Arrayanes

The tall guy was playing around with growing a beard, and he tried several versions which were unusual, distinctive, and even playful. Wondering how he looks now?

happy and beardless: it was collecting too much ash!

Finally back to the mecca of Tango, we went dancing at Sunderland with good friends from San Luis Obispo!

me, Ben, Val & Mary

Do we miss our friends from the Central Coast? YES! Did we miss Buenos Aires when we were in the mountains? Yes, but we liked the quiet. Did we miss our apartment? No, not really. Did we miss a lot of tango classes? Yes. Did we miss dancing? YES!!! It’s tough to be a tango addict out in nature. Did we miss the lovely summer weather in Buenos Aires? Definitely! 80°F and humid, with frequent thunderstorms, is close to perfection. 85 – 105°F and dry with no rain for months (back home) is also very nice, but not as thirst-quenching. 65°F and windy (Bariloche) I can do without! But the cabin we stayed in was super nice: Balcón al Lago, Llao Llao.

Back in the city we have some great friends, and boy do they put on some great parties!

Dolores & Guilermo singing on a wabi-sabi guitar!

the girls are ready to go dancing!

Back in Tango paradise, we plugged into the city scene like a set of jumper cables suckin’ down juice from the Infinite Source of all Power: Tango. If you’re tired, stressed, lonely, got a headache, restless legs, whatever your issue, chances are Tango will set you straight. You know how sometimes you need to be around a crowd, even if you don’t know anybody, just to feel human again? Well I feel that way too! I prefer dancing at milongas that are not well lit. I don’t like to feel watched. There are some milongas in Buenos Aires where people dance to be seen: Salon Canning, Niño Bien, Confitería Ideal, Sunderland, Porteño y Bailarín. But I prefer the ones where you can be anonymous, like la Viruta, Sueño Porteño, Maldita Milonga, Café Vinilo, Círculo Trovador, Sin Rumbo, La Baldosa, El Tacuarí, Lo de Celia. To name just a few. I prefer to dance with my partner, connect to my partner, connect to the music, the musicians, the floor, the community of dancers going ’round and ’round. Then you can experience the bliss of joining the harmonious whole, the fantastic exotic universe that is Tango. You are just another pair of bodies moving around the dance floor, moving to the same beat and compás, that syncopated beat, the heart of Tango. It’s a healing, harmonious space where the music and your partner hold you close. You close your eyes and just dance.

••• Hey everybody! I hope you like my new web design, it will be even better when I figure out how to customize it. I plan to have 3 columns instead of 2. For now, baby steps!

••• Pretty soon I will no longer send out a notice to my readers. Just click the follow button to continue to receive an automatic notice when I post a new story.

••• And now you can post comments, they are visible on the home page, and I will reply! Va bene?