Flamenco At First Night

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Within the last few weeks, one of our CDP colleagues had a post that asked the question: what is the thing in your life that you most regret? At first nothing came to mind. I'm not obsessed by guilt and second guessing. You know, like the Little Sparrow singing Non, je ne regrette rien. But then I remembered something. Late one evening after dinner in Madrid, my wife and I crossed the Plaza Mayor heading for the Metro. As we left by the north gate, we passed a bar or club with doors flung open and the most intense, passionate flamenco music pouring out. Should we go in, order a drink, watch the show, soak it up? Well...I don't know if they'd want us and it's all locals and it's crowded and it's getting late and for heaven's sake they all speak Spanish and... So we didn't go in. I regret that. The place was so obviously hot - and genuine. What an idjit. What an experience I missed.

I like a lot of Hispanic music forms such as tango, salsa, meringue and flamenco. They have a combination of passion and sophistication hard to match in the north. One of the First Night performances was by Los Flamencos, a local group who practice the pure form of the art. All red and black, swirls and stomps over a strong but supple guitar. It was hot. Glad we stayed.