Day one in England and Me and C. stand on the pavement outside the post office on the Shepherd’s Bush Road, snapping away with the Pentax: a red double-decker bus; magenta Busy Lizzies spilling over baskets hanging from a wrought iron lamp post; a pristine example of a British public toilet capsule that looks like it could be an alien space craft in disguise. Do people really use those? asks a bemused C. I make him laugh by telling him that the doors open automatically if you stay in there for too long.
I drag him into the first charity shop we come across. Can’t resist the prospect of unearthing a few recycled Brit bargains in the racks packed with familiar labels and someone else’s cast offs. A couple of Jasper Conran shirts for him and a Monsoon top for me: ten quid. Resulting smiles: priceless.
Flushed with the pleasure of new gladrags in the bag, we decide to explore the aisles of the chemist known as Superdrug. I want to know how much the things I call ‘facewipes’ cost: you know, those totally convenient wet cloths that cleanse tone and something else all in one… I’ve always been mega lazy when it comes to skincare and thus a big fan, but in Buenos Aires if it says Nivea or any name I recognise on the cover, it’s out of my price bracket: In Argentina I resort to the Farmacity own brand and they’re between $9pesos and $12pesos (one pound fifty to two quid) for twenty five. Superdrug’s version looks a lot more luxurious and is only 99p for forty. I buy three packs. We’ve got to make a list of all the things we’re taking back with us, I say. L’Oreal hair dye won’t be on it. Six pounds fifty in Superdrug. Three quid in Buenos Aires.
Round the back of Shepherd’s Bush’s second hand stores and chemists we find Westfield, apparently the biggest shopping mall in Europe. We wander in… and out in about five seconds flat. C. is open mouthed to see people propping up the champagne bar in the designer section at 4pm… Everyone’s drinking, he says. We’ve just passed Walkabout, the Australian branded bar, overflowing with Saturday afternoon ‘beer glass in hand’ punters. I meanwhile am open mouthed at the number of people weighed down by an excessive number of designer carrier bags – haven’t they heard that Britain is supposed to be in the grip of a recession?
Tango Negracha-style shows no signs of being knocked by economics either, despite costing ten quid to get in (that’s more than $60pesos each… bloody hell!): it’s chocca. Carlos announces to me that he could be in La Viruta. The performance is by folk who normally hang out there… though I think he probably means the number of times he gets kicked. To my amazement I end up dancing with Shev down in the basement where there’s more space and the music’s electronic: he leads me a load of fun stuff I don’t normally do and I end up laughing a lot. I can’t help wondering what my milonguero boys would make of it all, and as the night progresses I do think of them and their closer than close embraces. I miss the familiar music too: even much of the traditional stuff upstairs isn’t really what I’m used to. But these days I’m celebrating the differences… or doing my best to anyway, so I throw myself into our first night on the London tango town. I confess that I don’t really want to leave at 3.30am when I turn to discover that my host has his tango shoes off and his coat on. That’s the adrenalin of travel across cultures for you, even a fifteen hour flight and zero sleep for two days couldn’t stop me wanting to dance and talk and meet new people and dance some more, until dawn. I silently give thanks that in Buenos Aires I can always get the bus home, or if desperate a pretty cheap taxi, and never need a car or to rely on anyone for a lift. Freedom. I must have it to feel joy and I know it. And it is fabulous to know it, and to normally have it.
I’m starving after all that dancing and I shout, Stop! as into view comes a petrol station bearing a M&S Simply Food sign that promises a treasure chest of goodies totally and utterly unheard of in Buenos Aires. I leave the boys in the car and it is touch and go whether they will ever see me again as I get lost in the shelves of convenience bacon and egg triple-decker sandwiches on brown rye bread, 4-packs of chocolate eclairs (that I have been known to eat in one sitting in lives past), 500ml tubs of fresh full fat custard… Half an hour later I’m at the kitchen table tucking into two enormous scones that ooze with strawberry jam and cream and I’m thinking that I absolutely will not care if I never see another plate of Argentine medialunas again. I start fantasising about how I can persuade M&S to open a store in Las Cañitas. As I eat jam and cream I feel like I am in the enviable position of standing in front of a giant pick and mix stand. An M&S scone from a Shepherds Bush petrol station at 4am; the sight of my Argentine in a five quid Jasper Conran shirt from Oxfam; the fun embrace of a British friend in the basement of a packed Holborn tango club… all London treats. Things to love.
Now, one week after Negracha and with a few days in the exquisitely beautiful and green Hampshire countryside behind me, I know a few things that I don’t love about me in this country too: having to drive miles just to find a pint of milk; not leaving myself enough time in my schedule to write; being invited to dance tango to music that isn’t even remotely recognisable as tango music. But, Brilliant! I shout in my most welcoming voice to all three. The first I can put up with for a few weeks; the second I can change from today; the third… I’m just saying politely, No, sorry, I can’t dance tango to this. Easy. It’s just bloody great to know who I am, what works, what doesn’t work, what I want and what I don’t want, and not being afraid to say so.
When you travel you take yourself with you right? I used to say that in a rather negative way. Like, Oh well be careful thinking that you can go and live in another country and everything will be different, because it won’t – you take yourself with you after all… What does that mean exactly? That we’re all screwed up and so we’ll screw up our lives wherever we go? But what if we are not screwed up. What if we know joy in one land and we are determined to carry that joy with us to another. Might that not be possible too? Well it damn well is.
I do see that I have to watch out for getting sucked in to ways that may be the norm here, but are no longer my norm (like not wanting to offend anyone, not saying no even when I long to, not making time for art over duty)… but that’s ok. I am learning to protect my joy. And I will do so whatever land I’m in. Is it selfish? Maybe. But on the other hand if, when I face you, I have not got joy in my heart, then I’m wasting your time as well as mine: across the coffee table; on the dance floor; on this blog page. Until this morning I haven’t wanted to write a word since I left Argentina. Today I woke at 5am and the words were desperate to escape. So here I am. Saturday morning. Rain pouring outside. Hampshire, England. Pick and mixing my life: Carlos asleep in the next room; a great and wonderful friend down the corridor; an unplanned day stretching ahead; dancing tango tonight in the New Forest. Mañana another favourite New Forest tango home of mine: Bramshaw. Monday, my family.
You take yourself with you when you travel? Yes you do. And for the very first time in my life, I’m taking a me I love, a me who at last is learning to fill her suitcases not only with tango shoes but with un-squashable Barbie fuelled honesty and joy. And how bloody marvellous is that?
Happy rest of the weekend guys. Till soon, from the most beautiful England that it is in my power to create,
Sallycat
Tags: England v Argentina, sallycat in England, tango in England
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)) it’s wonderful !!!-
It is Cindy! It is! SC
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Hi Sal
What a marvelous post. You sound giddy, and it is wonderful. I can almost see you bouncing around with fun and excitement.Once again you inspire me and make me feel eager to take the next step in my life and see where it takes me. Yesterday was my last day of work…I am now RETIRED…I feel like ten tons of old worn out Tango shoes has been lifted from my shoulders and I’m now free to make my life anything I want. And, in part, thanks to you, it’s not as scary as I thought it might be. The fact that I’m going to a Tango workshop this weekend and hoping to dance about 24 out of the next 36 hours might be helping as well.
I loved the “No, sorry, I can’t dance tango to this.” …That’a girl you stick to your guns… I’m sorry do I sound like a Tango snob?… Well there is more than enough good Tango music out there. We don’t have to dance to that other stuff.
About that second thing. As much as I love to read you and wait sometimes for days for your next post. You are on HOLIDAY…H-O-L-I-D-A-Y…that means you don’t haveta if you don’t wanta. …but I still hope you do. You make your world so come alive to me.
One last thing before I get ready to head off to my Tango bliss.
CONGRATULATIONS on your first trip with the you, you love;-) May you have many more.Give yourself and Barbie a big hug from me, and my best to C.
Cheers
mj-
my dear mj
Your last day of work! Oh my God Barbie is sooooooooooooo excited for you my friend! And so am I. And I am absolutely delighted to hear that you feel a little less scared than you thought you might… a little scared is so normal isn’t it? Feel the fear but do it anyway is the Susan Jeffers cry that I have tried to live by for so many years… even before my truly awfully big adventure to Argentine began. It is such a relief to know that fear is normal but that it doesn’t have to stop us doing ANYTHING! That is a relief indeed, and so is the fact that every single step we take enables us to see the next one: that part I’ve proved for myself.
It’s so funny what you wrote about the tango snob thing. Last night I met a lovely reader of this blog and found myself talking to him about the music I like to dance to and these words ‘tango snob’ kind of came up… no it isn’t a tango snob thing at all, it’s just about knowing what I like and what I don’t like and being true to it; for someone else it will be different, and that is ok… I’m not saying that no-one should dance tango to non tango music, I’m just saying that I prefer not to and the reason is that my soul cannot dance its dance to that stuff, so I can’t give my partner my soul – and I’d be cheating both them and me. Again whether I’m explaining myself well or not I do not know, but hey… I’m trying and I think you will understand
Holiday? Yes it is, and I will only write when it feels right for me to do so, when my soul longs and tugs and shouts… NOW!
Enjoy your dancing weekend mj. May your soul dance free.
Warm and delighted hugs, SC-
I do and your right.
mj -
Hi Sal
Thanks for the lovely reader bit and thanks for putting up with my limited dancing abilities at Burley. ( I had a great time) Suzanne has not stopped talking about her dances with Carlos, so I have got a lot to live up to now.
Re the Tango Music v Non Tango music you explained it very well and I totally understood which is why I feel even more honoured that I we had that last dance.
It was great to meet with you, to dance and chat, do have a brilliant rest of your trip and I really do look forward to hearing that Sallycat laugh on the dance floor again
p.s. i still want yer man’s shoes
Luv James-
Hi James… am very happy we met at last and danced and talked. I am delighted to hear that S. enjoyed her dances with C. He is a special guy, and he gives his soul when he dances… and best of all when he loves the music! It was cool to chat to you about that. And as I think we said, it is very normal for folk to love dancing to what they know best, what feels familiar and a part of them.
The thing was that when that last track came on and you just had to leap up and grab my hand and say,’Let’s dance!’ well, that is how I feel when Pavadita (for example) comes on, or how C. feels when Cafe Dominguez comes on… I saw it (your Barbie, if you do not mind me saying) in your eyes, in your enthusiasm, and even though I felt out of place dancing to it (don’t recall the name), I felt your soul’s joy- and that was a privilege.
The tango music I know and love best has changed since I went to Argentina… the natural process of integrating into a new culture, rather than any conscious decision made at any particular point by me. Coming back to the UK has just brought it to my attention and it interests me – just like I am finding my reactions to so many things here absolutely fascinating!When I get back to Argentina, I’ll be in touch if you like on the shoes – maybe I can send you a pair over if you want.
Or, you guys will have to come to Buenos Aires and visit the 2×4alpie shop yourselves!Very warm hug to you and to S. from me,
SC
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Sallly, I think I know what you mean by “When you travel you take yourself with you” in that yes, sometimes people transplant themselves in hopes of making a move that will bring happiness. Places have power to place pressures on a person to change, and some people just do better in certain environments. But isn’t it true, that what makes you happy comes from inside, and that what you have done is decide to be happy, wherever you are? Isn’t that what we do? I think you have changed yourself, and it took guts.
E-
Hi dear E.
The last couple of years have made me think a lot about places and how much they can in themselves bring to the equation of the soul’s happiness. I believe that a soul may feel more comfortable in one place than in another… perhaps the energy just fits. But I am sure that in order to truly feel the benefits of that I have had to get to know my soul and shed all the layers of ’stuff’ that have in the past come between my head and my heart and my joy and my soul… I am struggling to explain what I mean exactly (it’s Sunday morning after a night’s dancing and I’m half asleep – so please forgive and I hope you can get an inkling).
You are so right that places can place the pressure on a person to change… Buenos Aires had something to say to me for sure and it pushed me through the ’stuff’ to reach my soul. Would the same have happened if I’d stayed in the UK? Maybe, but maybe it would have taken far longer… who knows. I think Buenos Aires was kind of the fast track for me! Certainly I think that if a place calls a person, there is probably something there for them: not package wrapped happiness, but more likely the most challenging journey of their life… that’s what I found when I listened to my soul’s cry and travelled to Argentina. Then of course we have to be prepared to take up the challenge – the change you mention!This is a fabulous subject E. and one that you have pushed me to think about a little more this sunny morning in England. Sun! Today England feels like it is breathing again (after 24 hours of rain) and I am just so very happy that my soul is dancing free enough to sense it.
Hugest love my wise friend far away.
SC
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Wow! B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L!! Keep creating and enjoying that most beautiful place. You’ve just made me realized that I used to be able to do that, too – and that maybe I’m learning to do it again…bit by bit and more and more. Thank you!
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Hey Claudita!
Yes, keep going. Keep doing. Keep learning.
We can choose joy every day can’t we, wherever we are?Thank you for letting me know I am not alone on my path to find it. You know what too? Even to be on the path and to be aware that I am is a source of huge joy for me – no matter where it takes me! Thanks for popping that thought into my head this morning. How wonderful.
Warm hug, SC
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Hi Sal,
Glad to hear you’re fit and well and (albeit) briefly back in the UK. I was really sorry to miss you when you called in on Thursday, but Tony said you were looking fab and very happy. Hope you enjoy your stay, and all the very best to you and C. Hope to catch up with you some time! Much love, Jo
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Hi Jo! Yeah I know, sorry to have missed you… just had to grab the moment when I had it because one week in Hampshire was very short and alas I landed a ghastly cold which slowed me down a bit too. Now in Shropshire and beyond for probably the rest of the trip. Just arrived tonight and very very happy to be with my family after so long away!
Big hug to you and I must say I did not recognise your house as I drove up – did T. tell you? What an absolutely beautiful transformation! Just gorgeous… gorgeous.
SC
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So very thrilled to read this post! So happy for you!!
Continue to have a marvelous time accumulating adventures.
I too love the concept of taking yourself with you when you travel – it is a great phrase that can mean a variety of things, but at the center of it all, it should be about being yourself and enjoying that as an adventure.
Love to you and C!-
Ta Debbi, we will keep adventuring – as I know will you!
Oh what a wonderful week it has been, packed with great energy and emotion… we both feel ALIVE!
Exhausting in some ways and energising in others… and I would not swap a second of it!Til soon my friend, SC
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Was reeeally looking forward to that one.
I can do one better on the facewipes: 3 for 2 at Boots “expert baby sensitive wipes”, non-fragranced, 60 wipes per pack. Yes, they are for baby bottoms but they’re perfect for make-up removal. Cheaper than chips and they’re one of the best wipes on the market (I’ve tried every unperfumed wipe in existance).
Enjoy your stay and I hope to catch up with you for a chat.
Mxx-
Fabulous tip Marianne!
Rushing off to Boots NOW!Thank you… (I must confess that I too substitute baby wipes for face wipes in Argentina as they are soooo much cheaper! Great minds and all that eh?)
Hug, SC
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Great post, full of vitality and hope. The cheap clothing makes me jealous, however.
Rick Powell´s last blog ..Recommended San Telmo Café: La Poesía
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Hey Rick… thx!
I am planning to tour the charity clothing shops of the entire UK if I can fit it in to my schedule… starting this week in Shrewsbury!So, the guest post for the Art Factory Hostel blog may be a little time in the writing… apologies…
Hope all is going well for you and the lovely guys I met when I came to visit.
Besos from England, SC
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Hi Sally,
Lovely to finally meet you and C. I hope Negracha wasn’t too traumatic for you. Now you know what I mean when I write about it.
It is interesting to read about your time here. You sound like a tourist! You have obviously settled into BA life.
Hope I get a chance to see you before you go back. Enjoy the rest of your holiday.
xx
Arlene´s last blog ..Ask Arlene…Fear of the Milongas-
Hey A.
Yes I feel more like a tourist here now than I do in Argentina… partly because I see everything here through the eyes of C. When you have someone at your side who constantly wants you to take pictures of things you have always taken for granted it is a bit like seeing a grey world in colour for the first time! Very thought provoking and I am finding my mind buzzing with ideas and thoughts and observations! All great for the creative mix…
We were delighted to meet you too. It will be cool to chat some more one day, whether here or perhaps even in Buenos Aires.Keeping enjoying your summer… we will be by the sea in Wales next week and I am soooo hoping we see a bit of sun!
Warm hug, SC
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Sal
How do you do it? all that food and still so skinny. Here am I starving myself, and then I see you.
I know exactly what you mean about music that is not remotely like Tango, it happens up here as well, but we have Dave and Sharon well trained. I hope you enjoyed our music. And it was lovely to see you and dance milonga again. Come back soon.
Bob
tangobob´s last blog ..Dancing in the street-
Hey Bob, I definitely think I’ve put on a few pounds since I arrived… cakes and cars and far less dancing. Oh well probably needed a bit of fattening up!
I did enjoy the music at Tango Shrewsbury and indeed the whole experience with the very warm welcome you all gave us. Carlos loved it too
Been a bit out of touch in deepest Wales for a while, but in the week ahead will be sending you, Dave and Sharon the pics I took. There are some super ones!Besitos until soon, Sal.x.
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yeah, I sure can rememebr those public toilets!
you shoud visit Japan if you haven’t – they’ve got fantastic public toilets… there wsa one that looked like a mini house!
it’s great to know to that you’ve found a yourself that you can love!
dance more tangos and wear out more bloody tango shoes!
cheers!
Geotacs´s last blog ..Sustainable Singapore Gallery and Gallery Cafe (Marina Barrage – Part G End)-
Hi Geotacs
Yep, a me I can love is emerging nicely… though being back in my old homelands sure can trigger a few old habits and behaviours which I am noticing with interest – trying not to be too hard on myself about those things, just observing them for now.
Will keep dancing and wearing out tango shoes for as long as I possibly can… and if I’m ever in Japan… will keep an eye out for the lovely loo houses you mention
SC
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