Friday night, a late entry to the milonga, the music was in full flow and the floor was moving with cadences that were almost orchestrated.
I stood just inside the doorway, taking in the moment, exploring faces for people I knew and taking in the ambience of the night. Subtle lighting, a kitchen but no bar, tables dotted around the edge and a pleasant array of dancers, weaving their patterns through the floor.
It was something I'd have liked to capture on video. Then compare it with the floor craft on other floors.The Negracha, in particular, has the atmosphere at times of a night in the jungle, you travel in convoys to avoid hostile natives. London has left an impression that I now felt relieved to be leaving.
What stood out so clearly was the gentle awareness of the dancers of each other, it was like arriving in civilisation after a period in the wilderness. Evidently, the three hour drive on busy motorways had also left it mark.
We changed our shoes and took to the floor, I was immediately enveloped in warmth, the dance flowed, the music drifted developed and evolved and I felt the welcome of friends and the invitations to dance by strangers.
I had arrived at my first tango tangk
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