Tango here, there, anywhere! by Jane Tolbert

Nice by day, and Nice by night (tango photo by Marie)

When I first started dancing, I told my instructor, “Anything but Argentine tango.” After all, I reasoned, where could I possibly tango! But that was more than six years ago. That was before I started planning all trips around milongas (tango parties) much in the same way other individuals plan around a ski or golf resort.

I gradually joined the international ranks of tangueros and tangueras who live for the next dance and pair of shoes. We share that intensity of emotion that comes when we hear the music and make the connection with our partner. Once the music stops and people change to their street shoes, the spell is broken. We and are left with withdrawal symptoms, bordering on depression, until the next milonga.

The first milonga I attended took place in Gainesville, Fla. Its organizers called it a “hit and run” tango. The tango dancers “hit” the outdoor plaza behind the Hippodrome, and they prepared to “run” if the police responded to a “disturbance.” After that, I discovered tango communities dot the dance landscape. In fact, tango seems to take place just about anywhere.

Tango dancers in southern France seek any opportunity to attend outdoor milongas. The surface may be a gritty sidewalk, but dancers simplify their steps—few pivots and little fancy footwork to avoid injury. Weekly summer events take place in Nice and others at the Cap d’Antibes in addition to a large annual tango festival in nearby Menton.

The rest of the year, the milongas are held inside. Tuesday nights the Milonga Linda is held at Jack’s Blues in Cagnes-sur-Mer. Entering through the bar of this former wine cellar, you’ll find Jack, a Blues musician and tango convert. Participants make a point of welcoming newcomers with a kiss on the cheek and address each other using the informal “tu” instead of more formal“vous.” In summers, the floor is packed with locals and tourists. But like many places, attendance waxes and wanes. People flock to Buenos Aires between January and March, but by late spring and summer, the place bustles once again. Here at the Milonga Linda, the Buenos Aires tradition is followed--men sit on one side and women on the other The man invites the woman with the “cabaceo,” or the slight nod. It’s almost imperceptible, so much so that several women may rise at once, each thinking the invitation is for her. A misunderstanding, an awkward moment. As one visitor commented, “Why do this when we are not in Buenos Aires.”

The numerous outdoor events and tango dancers make the South of France an ideal vacation spot. At least for those of us who plan for the next milonga. When Marie and Jacques sent out announcements for their summer milonga, overlooking the Promenade des Anglais in Nice, I jokingly mentioned the “hit and run” tango. They wrote back that they danced until one in the morning “without police intervention.” The numerous milongas, the wonderful possibility of having so many dances that my feet ache combined with the summer weather, have me (well, almost)checking for the next flight.

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