For once we managed to stay asleep during the morning rush. Our lay in was still cut short though. At nine the cucaracha man rang the door bell. We panicked to put some clothes on, in he came with his spray and he was out again in less time than it had taken me to find my trousers.
Then we heard hammering, loud slow thuds. I looked out of the window on Salguero, and yes, they were smashing the flags again. One guy was hitting the flag and smashing it to pieces the other with a pick was lifting them up. He was lifting from where the good flags were so that he could only ever take small pieces. I wanted to go out and show them how it is done. Use the pick from where there is a gap and lift the flags whole. Not only would this save us having a pile of rubble outside again, it is actually easier. But hey TIA.
Normally we go to Fulgor on a Thursday, but today we have been invited to eat at Luba’s House, so later we will be going there. Meanwhile we heard there was a free milonga at Carlos Gardel then we received an invite on Facebook, so we could pass two and a half hours there before walking down Gascon to Luba’s.
We arrived and found a pitiful excuse for a dance floor, not only too small and irregular shape, but the sheets were not fastened in any way and even without dancers on already there were massive trip hazards. Add to this there were cameras all over the floor, so dancing looked to be impossible.
There were tables free so we sat down, Viv thought they may be reserved, but there was no signs on them, so we sat anyway. Then a waiter came, it seemed the tables belonged to a café. OK, so we ordered coffee. The guy who had sat with us told the waiter he was waiting for a friend (good ploy).
As the six o’clock start time came nothing had happened. Then Julio Duplaa arrived and said that these tables were reserved and we must move. I am afraid I did not like his attitude, but we moved anyway.
Meanwhile the waiter was now looking for us with our coffee. So we sat outside his bar where we could still see what was going on.
When Alberto Podesta arrived there was a media frenzy, and again it looked like dancing was going to be impossible.
After three quarters of an hour, the great man started singing. Unlike 25 Mayo there was no real stage. We could hear well enough but could see nothing for the crowd that surrounded him. All the so called great and good were too busy trying to get their photos taken, they were here to see and be seen, they really cared nothing for what was happening only themselves. Again TIA.
At seven I decided I had had enough, there would be no dancing here, we were getting cold in our light summer gear and I had no desire to spoil my ideas of the great man by staying for this farce. TIA again.
So the good news of the night was the improvements they had made on Gascon. I always enjoy the walk down to Luba’s but now they have created a kind of traffic calming that does not employ speed ramps. Every junction now has a kind of curve to it, that means the traffic must slow down. To my knowledge it is quite unique, not a fan of traffic calming measures usually, but I quite liked this.
We spent a happy few hours at Luba’s house remembering old times, drinking the wine and eating empanadas, until the early hours when it was time for bed again. best compliment of the year “Flaco Bob” I don’t believe a word of it but it still chears me up.