Last night we happened into an auditorio on a side street, on one of our 'let's get lost' walks. (really, it's a strategy for finding cool places to eat and see). We stopped because we could hear singing, strumming and stomping coming from inside the courtyard - who wouldn't stop? It was like a Sevillan calling card: Yes! Flamenco is here! Come on in!
And holy moly was it ever beautiful and intense! I've seen flamenco in a theatre before, and it was great, but I was far away, and it looked so perfect that it was hard to see the human behind it. Last night was so different - we were in a tiny courtyard with a recessed alcove-stage, three rows away from the action.
In a nutshell, flamenco last night felt like witnessing a group therapy session. A singer, a guitarist, a female and a male dancer. They would periodically olé eachother, as if to say 'yeah, that was a good one', or 'you sing it, sister'. The dancer would frown and stomp and the musical entourage would olé, 'You stomp it out, girl. Just stomp that man right out of your life'. Then the dancer would smile and they'd all smile with her. Relief! Olé! 'It's all good, so glad you worked it out'.
It was a rollercoaster. A truly beautiful experience.
And now for today - bussing to the port (we were told by the barman who served us coffee this morning that Algeciras is really nothing special, that we should go instead to Tarifa...so we'll see how that works out. Brian commented that maybe we should start asking people things more often, it seems that they have useful things to say. Sounds good to me!)
Hasta la proxima!