It's only taken me 7 months to get to a tango event, but I've finally done it.Edwin good-naturedly let me to drag him along to the bi-monthly Tipo Tango Sunday night salon, which is held in an old seminary for the Augustine priests, near the Dommel canal.
After an hour of watching and looking at prospective dance partners expectantly (and outright ignoring my life-partner, Ed), I admitted defeat and started to gather my things. However, the perceptive gastvrouw saw us getting ready to go and had noticed neither of us had danced during the short evening.
Before too long, we three got to chatting and she told us that her husband, the gastheer, had been born in Australia and that they had a son who had spent a number of years working and travelling in Australia. Subsequently she sent for her husband to spin me (albeit rustily) around the dance floor for a three-dance combo of milonga, vals and tango. The floor was a bit slippery (or perhaps it was me), but the lovely couple continued to speak to me after my dance, in very clear and slow Dutch. So nice of them. Of course, we left with a flyer and repeated invitations to take workshops and lessons with them, but that's their business and what they were there for.
As hosts, they succeeded in making me feel at home, and it was quite a fluke that we all had so much (sort of) in common.
Oh, and their son had met a lovely Australian girl during his travels.
Her name was Jane.
