On Sunday, after drifting up and down the huge market on Defensa, we left the other tourists to dodge the pickpockets, and found ourselves a tiny cafe for lunch. It was tucked away in an old building, on a long balcony above a courtyard. As we were tucking into our jamon y queso sandwhich (pretty much the central theme of all our lunches to date) a couple started tangoing up and down the balcony, in the narrow space between the tables. The guy was dressed in a flash large collared shirt, grey waistcoat and rakishly tilted wide brimmed hat, the girl a tight red dress. I remarked to George that the girl had a stunning figure. George assented, but added gleefully that she also had an incredibly boss eye. In fact, so gammy eyed was this beautiful woman, that George thought that the offending organ must be made of wood.

Wooden eye or no (I went for "no") the dancing (which was brilliant) whet our appetite for the tango, and that evening we found ourselves in a deserted bar, in a beginners´ tango class, being taught basic steps by Marta, a dancer of 10 years´ experience. She opened the lesson by stating that "the tango is all about infidelity". Despite this, my partner for the evening was George. We muddled through, although every now and again, follwing a mis-step by one or the other of us, George rained down blows on my shoulder, which I didn´t consider to be in the spirit of things. I suspect that George may have been deliberately making mistakes, so as to attract the attention of Marta, who would then cut in, take George in her arms, and show her how it should be done. After each one of these episodes George would return to me in paroxysms - "Her skin, it´s so soft!". I had the pleasure of dancing with Marta later on - blurry photos are on Flickr. We left the lesson full of good intentions, resolving to try and continue learning. Time will tell, but whatever happens, we´ll definitely be a bit better informed at the next Gotan Project gig.