Preparation didn't quite go according to plan - distractions like work and friends meant I'd done very little dancing in the previous couple of weeks apart from Andy's advanced workshops, and I was getting over a cold.
The first place we tried was Azucár on Friday night, ten euros admission. It was quiet to start with, which made for some nice easy dancing early on. But it filled up a lot later and got very crowded and smoky.
The tricky bit was when we decided that we really should do some dancing with the locals - easier for Patricia, harder for me as there was a surplus of guys (many obviously on the pull) and not many good dancers there. But I did have one good dance with a woman who I spotted could do CBL. Turned out when we compared notes afterwards that Patricia had had just one good dance as well.
Music was probably more bachata and merengue than salsa. I recognised a lot of the salsa tracks they played, which suggests that Andy has his finger on the pulse. Every so often everything stopped for an amusing reggaeton lineup. There was a bit of rueda too, most of which I recognised (apart from 'la goma' - which means glue, or in Central America it's slang for a hangover). Drinks were very expensive - six euros (that's nearly a fiver at current exchange rates) for a beer, a coke or a small bottle of water.
We should probably have moved on somewhere else, but Azucár is diametrically the opposite side of the city from the other main salsa clubs, Randall and Tropical House. Bit of a late night – it was nearly four by the time I got to bed.
Saturday night wasn't supposed to be a dancing night at all as Patricia had friends visiting. But she invited me along when they went out for a meal in Chueca (the part of Madrid with a big gay and club scene). After the meal and a couple of beers - and after looking in a couple of unappealing places playing techno – we came across Merodeo (Calle Pelayo 58): dark, empty, playing everything from Kylie to Latin pop. Hell, nobody's watching, the staff are friendly, the mojitos are good, let's dance. So we danced (or at least three of us did) with abandon, and it was great.
With a bit of a leap of the imagination the odd track was suitable for dancing salsa or merengue to, particularly after they were persuaded to put some Ricky Martin on. (You think that's embarrassing? Patricia has made me promise never to tell anyone about some of the other tracks she danced to.) Not sure whether it was the siesta, the cafe solo I had at six – or maybe it was the mojito that brought my mojo back – but I had my best dances of the weekend with Patricia in Merodeo and I didn't stop smiling all the way back to the hotel (early this time, in bed by 2.30).
By the time of the rueda class in Cats on Saturday I was struggling, particularly after my siesta had been cut short with a text telling my the class started at 6.30 (leaving no time for food). The rueda class was huge and the standard was pretty basic, but I learnt another new move (Cubanitos). People were pretty friendly, though I struggle with understanding Madrileño Spanish. Not much eye contact, which I found a bit disconcerting but I assume must be a local thing. (My former dance partner Charlotte was dancing in Shrewsbury once and got told off for it: "You don't do that looking thing, do you? We don't do that here.")
Quick exit for a cafe solo and some olives to supplement a Powerbar (nutritious supper, eh?) and then back for a few dances with Patricia before she left for some unmissable tango (apparently the tango in Madrid is brilliant). Then it was up to me. Very crowded on the main dance floor with a wide variation of ability. Quite a challenge identifying people to dance with, keeping them safe, and trying to think of interesting Cuban-style things to do with them in a small space. I had a few dances, all of which were OK but none of which were anything special. I watched some lively rueda and one very slick CBL couple. By half ten it became obvious that my second wind wasn't going to arrive so it was time to leave.
Worth going? Yes, it was good to see Latin music as part of real life rather than being a subculture as it is here (the shop assistant in the souvenir shop yesterday morning was dancing merengue). Madrid's an interesting city and my Spanish is a bit less rusty than it was a week ago. I was surprised at how little really good dancing I saw, but I think that might be different midweek when there are more salsa classes and specialist salsa nights.
Next salsa stop Paris, I hope, if my application to go to a seminar in June there is successful...
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