stage debut in St Jean de Luz

I am still not sure how it actually happened but I allegedly danced Flamenco on stage in St Jean de Luz last Saturday. The ever-lovely Fabienne organised an end of dance season concert at the jai alai (normally the home of pelota). From 0900 on Saturday and for 18 hours thereafter I was at her beck and call.

The day began with a full rehearsal. Over 100 people were involved ranging in age from 4 to 84. I was one of 7 men and would mostly be the only chap on stage at any one time albeit surrounded by a bevvy of brightly attired alluring ladies. Rehearsal good, waiting bad.

The last time I had been on stage I was seven years old and had just won the Edinburgh Schools Robert Burns Poetry Recital Award; I forgot every word and vowed I would never again take to the boards. As the start time neared and the hall filled my nerves began to get the better of me. There would be nearly 500 people watching, including a large group of my friends who promised they would make large amounts of noise in support - how much I looked forward to that.

I had two Sevillanas and one Tangos allegedly committed to memory. The first routine was some twenty minutes into the programme. The longest twenty minutes I can remember. Thankfully my obvious nervousness was greeted by much reassuring hugging by the ladies present - there is always a silver lining.

I heard the first strains of our first song and stepped trepidously into the overpowering limelight. The moment we began to move all sense of trepidation dissipated (footage here). What followed was one of the most enjoyable evenings I have ever had.

Two hours flew past and I regained sense around midnight sitting at a table with forty other revellers and clasping a large pitcher of sangria. As I staggered home around 0300 I decided that it had indeed been a resounding success. Three years ago I was working in the City; now I sing Basque, drink sangria and spend weekends dancing Flamenco with hundreds of women. How times change.

Basque of the day:- change :: aldaketa

the things you do in St Jean de Luz

There's never a dull day in St Jean de Luz, let alone a dull week or month. Following on from the Festival Andalou (three days of raging sunshine, sangria, dancing, tapas, socialising and general festivalness) people around town have been on a high. The festival season is upon us.

I followed up my dancing exploits with a quick spot of Basque choralling at Musee Basque in Bayonne and a good deal of dance practice with the ladies. This weekend presents the end of year Flamenco spectacle - the fruits of Fabienne's labour. All has gone swimmingly until I pulled a muscle in my back yesterday - no honestly I did...

Every morning at 0730, lunchtime at 1200 and evening at 2000 the eglise St Jean Baptiste is eager to let us know that we should be eating. Rather than the simple peeling; we are offered three peels by three different bells each increasing in pitch. This is followed by 30 peels of the main bell. My bedroom faces the church and at this time of year the French windows are open overnight. There is no chance of my having a long lie in the morning.

Basque of the day:- regular :: ohizko

time for fiesta in St Jean de Luz

Here we go, three hours until the fiesta begins in St Jean de Luz. This weekend sees the Festival Andalou which translates as much dancing, drinking and eating. It is based largely on the promenade with several restaurants opening their doors to revellers for bespoke parties. On the promenade the 'casetas' (small tents serving sangria and tapas) are open pretty much all night long. The camp is centred around a stage on which more able flamenco dancers dance while we follow suit below. During the day there is non-stop dancing including numerous mass beginners classes which are good fun. At night flamenco oriented bands make sure nobody falls asleep. With the weather forecast to touch 30C and the sea views being hospitably panoramic this promises to be a good weekend. Sunday is the main event. I will report back.

In addition to the festival there is the small matter of a rugby cup final involving the local team Biarritz as well as a swanky private party that my choir are singing at on Saturday evening. I had my first ever siesta this afternoon anticipating that I won't sleep at all between now and Monday. Life in the Basque country continues to be stressful.

Basque of the day:- party :: jai

a wild weekend in St Jean de Luz

Sometimes it takes until Tuesday to recover from a weekend in St Jean de Luz. Fabienne was stricter than ever bossing our flamenco class on Friday afternoon. We struggled to get our pasadas, zapateados and vuelta izquierdas in order but she was unrelenting. Saturday night was presenting the biggest soiree of the season so far and our teacher was adamant we would do well.

Once I had recovered suitably a friend joined me for dinner (and wine) to watch France play Wales at rugby. Afterwards we joined friends in several bars around town to discuss France's resounding victory and celebrate until the first signs of daylight started to appear. So much for the alleged Basque lack of hospitality; I was readily accepted by the gang and met far more people than names I can remember, let alone prounouce - Basque names can be...interesting.

Most of Saturday was wasted but I roused myself as evening approached and readied myself for the main event. I was acting taxi for the evening which was most welcomed given the previous night. I picked up my partner for the evening before meeting the rest of our group. Driving in convoy towards the Spanish border the storm that has marred the past few days began to raise its head. An enormous fire on La Rhune burned uncontrollably being driven widely by the wild winds. We arrived in Fuenterrabia and headed for the party.

A huge hall presented itself and soon there were some 400 ready revellers; 300 of whom were elegantly attired ladies. Following a hearty dinner of local fares the music struck up. I am always a little nervous at the start of these events and tend to watch from the sidelines to begin with; in part to remind myself of the moves, in part in hope that there is someone who is worse at dancing than me! My rest didn't last long. With only half of the men dancing the ratio of 6:1 meant that my dance-card was preoccupied for some six hours non-stop. The hard practice Fabienne had put us through paid off and we all astonished ourselves. I used to think I was fit but I was in urgent need of fresh air to cool down between every second dance; it is unrelenting and exhausting (I lost four pounds).

[Click here for video]

The colours and movement were mesmerising; the sounds and smiles elating; the laughter and sense of belonging overwhelming. It is a real privilege to be an outsider allowed to enjoy and partake in something that is so different. At 0300 we were still going strong. During one of my cool-down breaks outside I noticed a thermometer, it read 28C reminding me that we were in the eye of a sizeable storm. I had danced more than I believed possible and exhaustedly corralled my passengers. I really wanted to be home before the storm proper arrived. As it happened I slept through it all and only really woke up sometime Monday morning with a broad smile across my face and a not inconsiderable thirst.

Basque of the day:- I belong here :: hemen bertakoa naiz

(FX, thanks for photos!!)

tough times in St Jean de Luz

Today was a difficult day in St Jean de Luz. Choir is taking an autumnal break so my cultural pursuits lie in the heady world of dance. The weekly class has extended beyond the two hour mark (from 45 minutes) so I am having to keep moderately fit just to keep up my learning. Having grasped the fundamentals of Sevillanas I have moved on to Flamenco Rumba. Now, the Rumba itself is a fast-paced affair, the Flamenco Rumba is just silly. We need to break down each second into three parts each with a different movement in each 1/3 second for arms and feet. My coordination is not brilliant at the best of times so I am struggling a little.

Fabienne, my wonderful teacher, is probably the strictest woman on the planet. If I feel things are getting too much there's no sitting on the sidelines, she simply tells everyone I'm finding it tough and makes me dance in front of them. Although my feet were several seconds behind the class I felt I moved up in the macho-matador-upper-body-stance-stakes. At the end of the lesson I was feeling a little despondent but Fabienne together with a couple of ladies from my class insisted I am not to give up. I can safely say that I am most definitely the most brilliant male dancer in my class, absolutely no doubting that, then again I am the only male in my class. It's good to be humbled from time to time. (Fabienne, I will practice harder for next week!)

Basque of the day:- to learn one's lesson :: eskarmentua hartua izan

matador in St Jean de Luz

Cultural pursuits are back underway in St Jean de Luz. I have just returned from three hours of dancing. Now that sounds all good well were it a disco after several bottles of wine. However, when it's at lunchtime, involves flamenco and rumba, and means I have to pretend to be a matador in front of twenty women it is a far more daunting prospect!

Having graduated (without honour) from the beginners sevillanas class I am now being taught dancing way above my ability. Being the shape of an ex-rugby type doesn't help either. I still do the sevillana class as a warm up but the flamenco rumba is where it's at. I get to hold my shoulders back, click my fingers lots and look overtly proud as a bevvy of lasses do their stuff around me. Top stuff!

The only challenge is the actual dancing. I've never been particularly shy and like to think I have a modicum of rhythm. Today Fabienne demanded I master clicking my heels three times a second with each foot one after the other. I can just about master two a second, three is just silly. Next week I am getting to dance with a hat, whatever that entails?!

I'm not sure if it's my age but after class each Friday I have the same sort of high buzz I used to get after playing rugby or a good days skiing. The local flamenco season is warming up and from this month on there are soirees most weekends. If you'd told me I'd be doing this and enjoying it so much when I was still working in London I'd never have believed you.

Basque of the day:- shall we dance? :: dantzatu nahi al duzu?

dancing in St Jean de Luz

St Jean de Luz once again held its breath as my Flamenco course recommenced. I am in the equivalent of big school now, being the hardcore flamenco man that I am, but went to the beginners class today to remind myself how to move. The ever wonderful and omnipresent Fabiana sasheyed around the floor showing newcomers how to move their hips to the rythym.

A couple of friends were doing as I was and we agreed to stick together for our first day in big school. It was a blast. After an hour of full-on flamenco practice (on top of the beginners hour) Fabiana decided to shake things up and had us busting salsa grooves and latin moves.

Once again I am the only chap, why beggers belief. If the single men of St Jean de Luz could get over themselves they would find a myriad of delightful girls and ladies (of all ages). Being a happily married man I am deemed 'safe' so find myself very much in demand as a dance partner, you've got to love it!

From the sublime to the ridiculous. This evening I, and ten other chaps, are giving a concert of Basque song up in the mountains. None of this ever happened when I was working with numbers.

Basque of the day:- flirt :: pertxenta

holidays end in St Jean de Luz

St Jean de Luz is beginning to return to normal after its weekend of Flamenco. I on the other hand am still excited and filled with child-like joy after our exploits. I still can't quite believe that Fabienne got us to a position where we were able to confidently dance in public. Today we saw quite a few people who had witnessed our first forrays into the world of Flamenco. Far from laughing they neared congratulations.

The holiday weekend has finished, schools are back, 'les etrangers' have returned to their 'etrange' lands but far from being downbeat there is already talk of the Fete de St Jean de Luz which takes place on June 20th. It alleges to be some event.

In advance of that we have a myriad of friends coming to stay starting this week with a rowdy bunch. During the summer months, sleep is at a premium.

Basque of the day:- visitors :: bisitari

Flamenco parade in St Jean de Luz

The second day of the Andalou Festival in St Jean de Luz was outstanding. We began early with a service at the church. An Andalusian choir with 20 singers (and castanets) replaced the usual church organ, the first five pews were filled with children wearing Spanish dress rather than the usual more formally attired and mature congregation. As we were part of the Flamenco event (I dressed in black, my good lady in a yellow Spanish dress with rose in hair) we were sitting with the other adult dancers behind the children. We were a formidable sight. Halfway through the service, after our friend FX had spoken eloquently, 100 children danced sevillianas in the aisles, even the priest was clapping to the rhythm. The service concluded and we exited behind the choir boys, headed for the main square by now we were some 200 strong.

The police had cordoned off the centre of Place Louis XIV. The band-stand held musicians who readily struck up as we filled the central arena. Around the perimeter were 20 horses whose riders were dressed in traditional Spanish garb, stunning. Beyond them, and beyond the police perimeter some 600 locals and tourists watched on eagerly. For six months this is what we had been training for. For six months Fabiana has been saintly in her patience. Could we perform in public and retain a modicum of pride? Our fellow dancers ensured we did and with their support our confidence grew. After half an hour I even heard shouts of bravo from the crowd, and I knew it wasn't my mother, she was definitely in Scotland.

The horses began to organise themselves. Filing five abreast we lined up behind the riders and began a tour of St Jean de Luz stopping in various places to break into dance. We passed our apartment and many friends before arriving at the 'casetas' for an afternoon of dancing, drinking and tapas.

If you'd told me 3 years ago that I would learn to dance Flamenco and during the course of a day dance in front of more than 1,000 people and look back on that day as one of my finest, I'd have said you were mad. Fabiana, you are a superstar.

Basque of the day:- happy :: zoriontsu

St Jean de Luz flamenco festival day one

A third of the way through the Festival Andalou in St Jean de Luz and we are still surviving, albeit some four pounds lighter. I don't think I have danced so much since I was 18 years old. The focus of the festival this weekend is held at 'casetas' at the far end of the beach. A series of small tents have been erected in a long line along the promenade with a stage and various dance floors forming the central apex. Each tent offers different wares to the weary dancer (and/or drinker). From tapas and gambas to cider and sangria there is a little of something for every taste.


Yesterday evening we spent several hours at the Jai Alai where Antonio Najarro and his wonderful Compania de Danza performed quite brilliantly. The dancers were all quite beautiful both in form and movement. The theme was 'jazzing Flamenco' and fused together both musical genres quite spectacularly in a set of highly sensuous sequences. Exhausted from watching we returned to the 'casetas' for some well deserved cocktails and tried to emmulate the dancers we had been watching. I fear it was sangria fuelled bravado but I thought I did pretty well. That was last night, this morning as I drink five pints of water and nurse a sore head I am less sure. It all starts over again in two hours.


Basque of the day:- Spain :: Espainia

hotting up in St Jean de Luz

The Festival Andalou has begun in St Jean de Luz. Throughout town you can hear Flemenco music and everybody is making arrangements to meet this evening. We strolled along to the 'casetas' this afternoon to take some lunchtime tapas and watch some excellent dancing. Returning home to escape the sun for a few hours we are readying ourselves for our first real local festival. I noted that quite a few chaps from my choir are manning the bars. A double-edged sword: easy access to drinks but they will also see me dancing! It is going to be a long night.

Basque of the day:- festival :: jaialdi

beach time in St Jean de Luz

The hottest day of the year so far in St Jean de Luz. Appropriately I spent it on the beach with my wife and fake-daughter, Charlotte. Although it was a work day, a school day and not a special day in any way other than being decidely sunny, the beach was jammed with people. I think this weekend will be incredibly busy which is good news for the town. The weather forecast is excellent.

We had our final Flamenco class before this weekend's Festival Andalou. Thankfully, after two hours non-stop sweating and swearing I think we have it cracked. Our class even gave us a standing ovation which was very sweet. I hope we feel as confident when we come to dance in public tomorrow. Fabiana is a superstar teacher and she will be showing of her considerable talent alongside Antonio Najarro, the best Flemenco dancer on the planet.

Basque of the day:- confident :: buru-lasai

St Jean de Luz and steamy music

Today it was hot in St Jean de Luz. Very hot. After spending most of the day melting on our rear terrace I escaped the heat for a drive in the mountains. With the roof down I sang loudly the various bits of Basque music I had managed to memorise. I was en route to my now weekly session with our choir mistress and the practice was necessary. Today we covered an additional three songs. There is much to work on.



This evening there was the first ever festival of four cultures in Ciboure. Our friend Francois-Xavier was dancing flamenco and we figured we'd go support him, catch up with other friends and have a generally fab time. We weren't wrong. The event took place under a large part open sided tent erected on the banks of the port looking out to the sun setting over the Basque Sea. After a more formal start to the evening a local Basque band took to the stage and orchestrated group dances, in much the same way as I had seen callers call ceilidhs in the past. We were both soon swept up in the throng and mimicking the others around us with some effect. Some were surprisingly similar to Scottish dances. Following several lengthy passages of movement we decided to escape, we have much ahead of us. Fireworks lit our way home, exposing a private dinner that was going on in one of the fisheries. Tonight has been a wonderful appetiser for the festival next weekend. There are so many excuses to party down here I am almost, but not quite, ashamed.


Basque of the day:- indulgence :: asetze

sevillanas in St Jean de Luz

Next weekend in St Jean de Luz there is an Andalusian Festival. At this festival we have been told that we, as a class, will follow our leader Fabiana in a series of public dances. Nightmare! Whilst I am comfortable with 3/4 of the dance, the final 1/4 is still eluding me. Despite the constant kind words from my teacher I am struggling to keep up with my Basque classmates who have all clearly been born into the Basque heritage of music and dance. Wherever I go in St Jean de Luz there is music. Whenever a chance arises there will always be someone willing to sing or dance. It is an important aspect of society deep rooted in local culture. Despite many years of ceilidh dancing I am struggling to keep up. Seven days of serious practice lie ahead.

Basque of the day:- dance :: dantzatu

that Friday feeling in St Jean de Luz

It was a grim day when we awoke. Made grimmer by the prospect of a long to-do list. By noon we had completed most of the more urgent action points and the clouds had worn themselves out so we retired to the terrace for a spot of flamenco practice. Our last class was almost three weeks ago and we have had little time to practice since, such is the hectic life of us Luziens.

Fabienne was not impressed. Normally she is strict with me, today she made me pay for my errant ways. The merest arm out of alignment or delayed foot movement was lambasted by forked tongue. I know she is only doing so in jest but she has spent so much time working with us that I was obliged to feel rightly guilty. The weekend 30/31 May presents the Andalucian Festival in St Jean de Luz with flamenco, sangria and tapas galore. It is expected that from dawn till dusk, and for several hours thereafter, we partake in abundant bouts of frenetic dancing. It all seemed like such a good idea a couple of months ago, with the prospect of dancing in public looming imminently I am now less certain.

Basque of the day:- humility :: apaltasun

stepping out in St Jean de Luz

Today the girls of St Jean de Luz quite literally wiped the floor with me. After four months of flamenco lessons we were promoted to the upper class, it's a little like the transition from kindergarten to university. From having plenty of time to remember each step we were thrust fast forward to full-on flamenco fury. Besides dancing dangerously I had to attempt to retain a modicom of respect. Although the lovely ladies of St Jean de Luz were incredibly tolerant, that modicom disappeared before I had completed the first sevillana. Flailing arms, heavy feet and too much attention on holding my stomach in were largely the causes of my downfall. Despite Fabienne's excellent tuition, this is not easy.

[We are taking a trip to London next week so from Monday the blog will be mobile]

Basque of the day:- step :: urrats

St Jean de Luz sevillanas

Our second Flamenco outing. Ninety fabulously attired people with a common wish to dance. A delicious dinner began. The tables were set around the central floor which was continually refilled as each course was presented. By the time dessert began to arrive everyone had danced at least two sevillanas. [select link to sevillanas]

By the time the evening was over everyone had danced at least a dozen sevillanas, along with a smattering of salsa and dollop of paso doble. Although we have been practicing for a few months we are still way behind regular dancers. We were sat with a lovely group of young French and Spanish people, it transpired they were all experts, some professionals from Madrid. Very harsh competition.

(A friend at the soiree has started referring to me as a Bobby whi I believe is a French cartoon character, any thoughts on the subject appreciated as I have no idea who Bobby is)

We had a friend staying this weekend so it was long after daybreak before we finally stopped gossiping and drinking whisky. Today has been spent recovering on the beach, kicking a rugby ball around and eating roast chicken. Early to bed to be ready for yet another stressful week in St Jean de Luz. I need a holiday.

Basque of the day:- tired :: nekatu

dance practice

Friday means Flamenco encore. Fabienne was very kind about my lack of prowess at the soiree last weekend, I just need to ensure that I don't let her down when her soiree arrives in three weeks time. We moved beyond the second sevillana today and are now endeavouring to master coordination of arm movements that mirror our legs, not at all easy.

Our friend Julie arrived today from London, Mrs Walker has organised a girl's weekend. Others arrive tomorrow and I think I will be making myself scarce, the coven can become quite fearsome. Forecasts are predicting a fabulous day tomorrow so I am hoping to catch up on some reading on the beach.

Basque of the day:- beach :: hondartza

Flamenco premiere

Saturday night saw us attend our first Flamenco soiree. We had practiced hard under the tutelage of the ever patient Fabienne and felt quietly confident as we arrived, despite being the only beginners in attendance. A lovely evening set in an old tower upon the crest of a hill in neighbouring Ciboure. An abundance of brightly dressed beautiful women, passionate paella, plentiful wine, masterful music and even other men to share the dance floor set the scene for a splendid evening. It all started with so much promise.

The more expert ladies from our class took to the floor, we watched clapping rythmically and walking through the steps of each sevillana in our head. Their long dresses glided, circling effortlessly around the room, arms twisting, interlocking in unison with the music, feet stamping purposefully to the hasty beat. We had been successul in the training room, time to take it to the floor.

My wife was beckoned to dance by the teacher. Despite being shy she managed favourably. Then it was my turn. As I walked into position I secretly thought, 'I am going to show these guys, I've had six lessons, this is easy'. 30 seconds later I was in a sweat filled panic. It wasn't that I couldn't remember some of the steps, I remembered none, zilch, zero, nada. To make matters worse Fabienne congratulated me on my first dance but I knew I had let her down.

Maria insists I looked like the constipated love-child of Mick Jagger and a pigeon. There is another soiree in March, if I don't want to look like John Sargent there are a lot of hours to be spent practicing. To compound matters, after struggling in vain to talk all night in French with my delightful dinner companions, about five minutes before we departed I realised that at least two spoke perfect English and must have been cringeing at my massacring their language. So, a truly great party: fabulous dancing, delightful people, excellent music, pretty ladies, lots and lots of homework to be done. Another wonderful night in the Basque country.

Basque of the day:- shy :: lotsati

Flamenco returns

Our last practice before we dance in public on Saturday. A fraught affair with several frayed tempers. We have now completed all four sevillanas. The test will be whether we remember them on the night. Our teacher Fabienne has promised to dance with me so thankfully I have an advantage over the rest of the class.

I was dressed smartly today for our lesson and the ladies took great pleasure from teasing me. It wasn't so much the class I had chosen my attire for but my wife who has returned from her travels. It is good to have her back and the cat has already switched her allegiance. Fickle creatures are women.Basque of the day:- fickle :: aldakor