Being a bit of twenty first century gypsy I get itchy feet staying in one place for too long. Sometimes I decide to go travelling on a whim so I have fled the cold in England and am back in Andalucia for a short while.
This is a place which feels very much like a home away from home. I recognise the smell of the winter here as soon as it hits my nostrils and the dense humidity enters my lungs. I recognise the distinctive tunes sung by the church bells in each neighbourhood. Here I arrive and there are friends waiting to greet me and a place for me to stay. I navigate the streets like a native even though I might not remember their names. I know which bar does the best and cheapest tapas, where the cola de toro stew melts in your mouth, where the waiters will top my glass up with Rioja while only charging me for one as well as invite me to a shot of limoncello after I've eaten. I know where I can have a quiet coffee and read the paper before my first flamenco class. I know which tailor to take my costumes to be adjusted, which shoemaker will mend my flamenco shoes, the cheapest studios to hire for rehearsing and the classes in which the flamenco teachers greet me like an old friend returning.
Sometimes my flamenco life just takes over. If you think blogging can become an obsession it is a pale shadow compared to flamenco and having this home away from home has opened up my world in ways I would never have imagined.
If I was chart my pregnancy in terms of some of the best outfits I wore over a growing bump it would start with last summer at ...
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