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The French, the state of tango & the heat of summer.

Toulouse at night
Ahhh, The French!

The French tend to consider themselves superior to other nationalities, especially when it comes to cultural arts such as Tango.

On an individual basis, some of them are wonderful and very kind in conversation, but once the herd mentality is reached, watch out, as they won’t speak any language except French.

They might share a border with Spain, but speak Spanish…No!

For us, this was our third trip to France. This was my first time attending a Tango camp with Liz and Yannick Vanhove, which was held near Bergerac. The second time, I attended another Tango camp with Liz and Yannick in Wissant, a town on the Atlantic coast near Calais. Now, we have returned to Toulouse for the 16th annual Tango Postales Festival.

Train Travel

We live in Valencia, and started our journey to Toulouse from the Estación Norte.  There were three trains involved, and the journey took about 10 hours. Train travel in Spain is very comfortable and inexpensive, thanks to the use of the Tarjeta Dorado Card. This discount card can be obtained in person at any Renfe station with proof of age over 60. Discounts of up to 50% are available for travel during the week and can be applied to any train travel class.

The itinerary is Valencia to Barcelona, with a train change, then Barcelona to Narbonne, France, with another train change, and finally the train from Narbonne to Toulouse.  

While the stop at Barcelona Sants station was uneventful, crossing the border into France proved to be quite eventful for some, as it involved a passport check—the French national. Police entered the train with a display of brute force. Four rather large and bulky policemen asked for your passports.

Ultimately, a few people of interest were removed from the train and detained at the station. Watching the scene from the upper floor of the passenger train was similar to watching a movie unfold, as all the police were white and all the detainees were of other races. After 20 minutes, the train continued to Narbonne but with fewer passengers.

Upon arriving at Narbonne station, it was immediately evident that the French station was old and in need of restoration. There wasn’t an elevator on site, as we had to change platforms not once, but twice, because the platform had been changed. The bathroom was closed for cleaning, and the temperature was very warm. 

Luckily, I had no problem waiting for the train as the women’s bathroom featured a ceramic hole in the ground. Ah, the sophistication of the French!

The train arrived approximately on time, and we boarded onward to Toulouse.

Toulouse, France

If I had a favorite city in France, it would be Toulouse, which is referred to as the Paris of the South. The train station is centrally located in the city’s downtown core. The station itself is an open-air facility, with only the roof protecting it from the weather. The scene upon arrival was similar to a rush-hour experience anywhere in the world, except it was 8 PM. We navigated our way through the station, finding the elevator, exiting the building, and getting a cab. Our accommodation was located in the historic section of the city, near the river.

After figuring out how to retrieve the keys from the lockbox, we were in and tired from a day of traveling.  We found a restaurant on the corner of our block that served meat, which is the type of food we wanted to refuel our bodies. The beef was good, as was the wine, potatoes, and salad that we split. The bill was a bit of a shock, as food is more expensive in France than in Spain. 

The city of Toulouse is an old one, filled with buildings that date back several hundred years. Most of the old town has been restored or is undergoing restoration at present. The old city is beautiful, with a river winding its way through the centro, old stone bridges spanning the river, and many historic churches. We live next door to one of the oldest churches, the Basilique Notre-Dame de la Daurade. This church is home to the Black Virgin, a beautiful, carved, and painted sculpture reproduction of the Virgin, housed in a renovated building that was initially a Roman structure. 

Toulouse is filled with distinctive and beautiful buildings that now house restaurants, stores, and hotels. The locals can no longer afford to live in this area unless they bought their space 30 years ago. Such is the fate of many older European cities.

Tangopostale

The reason we returned to this city was the Tangopostale Festival. This Tango festival began 16 years ago and continues in part because it receives financial support from the local government and community. The festival features outdoor milongas in Plaza Saint Peter’s by the river, leading to a tango studio located 5 kilometers outside of town. There are classes in neo-tango, musicality, yoga, and classical tango. A few art exhibitions, the delivery of a new postage stamp commemorating Carlos Gardel, and a couple of live concerts are scheduled over the 10 days.

Overall, it’s an impressive feat to accomplish so many events all with a large volunteer staff.

When the festival started, so did the heat wave. Most of southern Europe was experiencing abnormally high temperatures.

The temperatures were HOT!

Temperatures were between 92 and 102.

This weather exhausted us, and the whole idea of being in a close embrace in that weather was not very appealing. I don’t think we were alone in our lack of enjoyment of intense heat, especially with minimal air conditioning in effect.

We met people from Poland, Belgium, Germany, and Spain, and, of course, many local French dancers. The dancing featured various styles, ranging from neo-tango to open and closed embrace tango.

As a group of dancers from many countries gathered, different effects were noticeable on the floor. Some were dancing to the music being played and shared, while others danced to the music that was internalized by the pair of dancers. Many generalizations can be made about countries, ie, the Germans dance this way while the French dance that way.

However, I prefer this generalization based on the visualization: the French dancers are in their heads, thinking about what the music is informing them, while the Italians and the Spanish are listening to the music with their hearts, thinking versus feeling.

Feelings versus thinking

I mentioned this thought to a few others, and they agreed. 

In conversations with a few local dancers, we chatted about festivals and locations worldwide. I learned that most of these dancers had never experienced tango in Buenos Aires.

When asked where they planned to dance tango next, most of these dancers responded that they would be staying in Europe. 

Could it be the general unease with the current wars and the dissatisfaction in the world?

Where are they dancing?

Perhaps it’s the distance and expense that keep folks out of Argentina, as in the past year, the value of the peso has climbed drastically, making the country much more expensive. Yes, this is now a significant issue for Argentinians too.

With many festivals and so much tango, we are fortunate to live in Buenos Aires and be able to travel to dance tango.

Our next festival will be in the

In mid-July, we attend the Berlin Milonguero Festival. 

Abbraccio

https://paroissescathedraletoulouse.fr

https://www.liz-yannick.com/

https://www.toulouse-tourisme.com/en/

https://tangopostale.com/en/qui-sommes-nous/

Extra Photos

Artist featured at Tango Postales, Mariano Otero
Montpellier train station
Old Town Square, Toulouse

https://travelingtango.com


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Pubblicato da Ruth Offen

Ho scelto il tango come ballo perché amo lo stile di vita, l'abbraccio e, sì, il travestimento. Nella mia serie sul tango, condivido immagini scattate in tutto il mondo, nei luoghi in cui ho ballato: Spagna, Francia, Germania, Turchia, Canada, Italia, Grecia e Stati Uniti, ma soprattutto a Buenos Aires, Argentina. Con i miei racconti scritti, cerco di condividere alcune delle esperienze che mi sono rimaste impresse... Un abbraccio straordinario, un bel pasto, un momento di vita un po' scomodo in un soggiorno in una stazione ferroviaria o in un aeroporto. Sono questi i momenti che ricordiamo. Per quanto riguarda le mie informazioni personali, sono nata nel New Jersey e, dopo aver vissuto a New York, Boston e San Francisco, e più recentemente a San Juan Island nello stato di Washington, mi sono trasferita a Buenos Aires nel gennaio 2020. Per 38 anni ho curato una galleria d'arte contemporanea, dove ho affinato le mie capacità e sono diventata visual editor. Sempre con una macchina fotografica o un dispositivo per catturare immagini al seguito (comprese attrezzature molto pesanti), ho iniziato a viaggiare più o meno nello stesso periodo e sono stata introdotta al tango circa 12 anni fa. La narrazione VIsuale inizia con un momento. Un meccanismo interno viene innescato da una scena, un evento o un movimento e... ecco la foto. Altre volte, si tratta di una scheggia di colore o di qualcosa di strano o ordinario che cattura l'occhio. Poiché ora parlo correntemente lo spagnolo, desidero che le mie storie e le mie foto raggiungano la comunità del tango e altri viaggiatori. Travelingtango offre traduzioni in spagnolo, italiano e tedesco. Abrazo!!!

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