Tango Gipsy (III): *It* as in *It*aly

Following the many days of Tango Deprivation while in Mystery Country X, I finally made it to la bella Italia. Visiting the magnificent Rome is always a treat, Tango or no Tango... but when great Tango--and great inspiration--come with *It*, *It* just becomes paradise.

Rome. The Eternal City is Eternal for a reason. Beautiful and imponent, is one of the most coveted cities by tourists worldwide. I don't know why others love it-- all I know is that I have always had my very good reasons to explain my own love affair with this inspiring city. Until today, they were always non-tango related; from today on, such a love affair is also painted by the color of Tango.

On Wednesdays, Rome has one *must* Milonga: La Milonga della Luna, at Il Giardino del Tango. I had heard about this Milonga during the early investigations that preceeded my little escapade to Rome, and I was absolutely thrilled by the prospect. So, during my morning, I wandered about the city's center while addressing the logistics to attend it. For some suspicious reason, the location of the Milonga was cut out from most of the maps of Rome that I could find, a bit too much to the North, near the Olympic Villa. While inspecting a large map in a little cafe by the Fontana di Trevi that charged me for my capuccino about twice as much as it would to a local, I debated about how easily or affordable would be to get there. The concierge at my hotel explained later that there were buses running, and that the area was itself safe to visit for a woman alone, but that at night he'd still recommend taking a taxi -- which from the center could be quite expensive. But hey, I could not *not* go, right? I'd hear so much about it! I was all geared to go, even more so after so many days without dancing.

And so, I got ready for the Milonga at my hotel. My usual internal war on what to wear got cut short by the fact that pretty much I had saved *one* dress to wear at the Milonga from the rest of the trip. With everything else unusable (and, ehem, waiting for the laundry at home), I got ready quite quickly. Went to the hotel's lobby, and asked for a taxi. The taxi came. I got in, and explained where I was going: Via degli Olimpionici, 7.

The driver immediately turned to me, to explain why it was *not* a good idea to go there. It turns out that tonight there was a very critical futbol soccer match between Rome and the Manchester United. The teams were playing at the Olympic Stadium, which meant that the area was full of cars, if not full of brittish hoolingas. Since the match was almost over, he suggested to wait an additional half an hour--at least--before attempting a trip. Ugh. So I got out of the taxi, and made it to the lobby... the lady at the reception confirmed that it was probably tricky to get to the area with all the italian and brittish soccer fans flooding it. "Do you really have to go tonight?" she asked. I didn't say much, but thought "You bet!". I waited for 30 minutes and ordered another taxi.

A new taxi came to pick me up. The driver, Michele, smiled as I gave him the address. "So, you are going to dance tango" he said, and I was amazed that he knew. He confessed to have been there once or twice, to the lessons before the Milonga, but explained that he had quit: "Il Tango e molto difficile" . I nodded and smiled. The traffic around the soccer stadium gave us the chance to have a long conversation--with me speaking in my native Spanish and him responding in Italian--about Tango, Dancing and Relationships. He explained how he likes dancing, but his wife doesn't, so he had to quit. "You should get a boyfriend who dances Tango" he adviced, and I just thought "Hum. Maybe..." (Yes, maybe an Italian Tango-Boyfriend, with that sexy grave tone of voice that they have...!)

We finally found the Milonga. Michele gave me his number to call him back if I wanted to be picked up, and I jumped out of the car thankful for the nice ride, but not so much by the amount of euros that went out of my pocket to pay for it. I entered the Milonga cautiously. As I paid at the entrance, I quickly felt the Italian warmth that I like so much.

I could see the beautiful, perfect and shiny wood floor by the end of the room--which ceiling gave me the impression that can be opened up in the Summer. A bunch of tables with groups of people sitting in them were just before the dance floor and one of the sides; chairs and wall built-in seats on the others, and the DJ at the corner, in his special DJ-booth, playing great music (and a lot of Pugliese), with no cortinas. I quickly changed into my Comme Il Fauts and watched. There were some really nice leaders on the floor, doing mostly sophisticated walks in close-embrace; no nuevo Tango was to be seen, although alternative music was played. The room was not crowded--perhaps because of the match--and the gender balance was just right. I crossed fingers that these Italians would not be a bunch of Tango snobs--of the kind who do not invite to dance those Follows they haven't seen before. I wondered whether they would be using Cabeceo at all...

First, an older gentleman came to me and asked me to dance. His Tango was in the OK --not superb--territory, but as I stepped with him on the dance floor, I realized that I was suddenly inspired. I could move again, I could listen to the music, I could go on with that energy that had apparently abandoned me in the previous weeks. He thanked me profusely after the dance, and I just felt "Hey, I'm back!!" Then M asked me to dance. He was just fantastic--nice, gentle, extremely musical. We just flew around the floor during three songs, after which he said "You are a very good dancer, Bravissimo!" Ooops! The memory of that other Italian leader at Nijmegen (see Tango Gipsy (II)) came to me, and I wondered if he was ditching me sooner than normal (it was hard to know without the cortinas, and strange, since in Europe people tend to stay dancing together for several tandas). After that, I had to sit by myself for a little while, and I wondered if that was it.

But no--I must say, Italian leaders are *not* snobs: most of the best leaders in the room not only came all the way to my seat to ask me to dance, but were very appreciative of my dancing skills, that were definitely at a peak tonight... and M came at the very end to ask me for another set of songs, before leaving :) I heard Tu sei Bravissima! from them enough times to make me feel really, really good about myself... (warning, warning, Leaders of the World: my Tango-ego is booming right now :}). And truth be told--I don't always dance like that; only when I have *It*... that Elusive Inspiration, that suddenly came back in Italy... thanks to all those really good and kind Italian leaders that were there, in Rome's Giardino del Tango.