Continuing my approach of ‘if tango won’t come to London, then the Londoner must go to tango,’ Friday night saw me board a train headed into deepest Surrey.

Biela Tango was found by Tina in her own search of Places That Aren’t London. I recognised the names of some lovely dancers in the RSVPs, so that was good enough for me …

There were a couple of downsides to the plan. First, with Biela on Saturday and the embassy on Sunday, after a rather busy week, I knew I wouldn’t survive dancing on Friday as well. This meant sacrificing this month’s dose of Tango Secrets – which is a big sacrifice – hence the almost perfect weekend!

Second, Biela isn’t quite as easy to get to as Secrets. Overground, tube, train, and 20-minute uphill walk! I’m trying to get Tina onto a Brompton, as that would have made the latter bit an easy five minutes.

A friend teases me that I now go to grey-hair milongas, and there’s some truth to that. When you go to a milonga held in a village hall, then you would expect there to be a somewhat silvery tinge among the tangueras, and not much of a tinge of any kind among the tangueros.

But this is by no means exclusively the case. Villages do on occasion have younger inhabitants – and a preference for great floorcraft and traditional close-embrace dance isn’t exclusive to those of us who have notched up a decent number of solar orbits. Indeed, it’s notable at CamTango that the university students and post-grads also favor the same style of dance, and the youngest tanguera to share my view of London tango is all of sixteen.

Biela did make me feel instantly at home. Being greeted by name on arrival always helps, of course, as does all-table seating. Spotting one of my favourite DJs – David Thomas – among the dancers also served as a pretty instant endorsement! (He later kindly gave us a lift to the station, so we could stay ’til the last tanda.)

I didn’t know the DJ, Kevin Kapp, but … wow! His music selection was absolutely incredible. David said that the two of them are often mistaken for brothers, and while that may not be true genetically, it certainly is musically.

The floorcraft was impeccable, and the standard of dance perfect. Since I now enjoy D’Arienzo almost as much as Pugliese, I danced almost every tanda. (I do still sit out the milonga tandas, on the basis that those are the least interesting to me, and I have to rest sometime!).

The evening absolutely flew by, and although Wilma told me the numbers were lower than usual this month, I still didn’t quite manage to dance with every follower in the room.

A brief video clip, to give a feel:

It was a beautiful evening, and has now been added to my small roster of regular milongas – though I’ll sadly miss October and November as they clash with the Reading Tango Festival and an embassy milonga.

Speaking of which …

The embassy milongas aren’t on a fixed schedule, so are always surprise treats.

While I generally don’t rush to dance in London milongas, this one is very much an exception. A friend, Ray, suggested that the elegance of the surroundings encourage people to dance more elegantly, and while there are still a few wannabe performers lurching around the room randomly (or taking multiple steps against the line of dance and then glaring at the innocent party when they ram their follower into someone …), there’s generally a ronda the likes of which is rarely seen inside the M25.

Bruno was DJing, and was delayed by a lesson, so Elena stepped in to open the milonga. I got there right at the start, having learned that it’s over all too soon if I don’t, and danced the first tanda with Tina on a very spacious floor. Elena didn’t do any of the ‘opening with plodding music’ nonsense that some DJs do – it was beautiful from the opening song.

Bruno can also be counted on for lovely music, providing a great balance of rhythmical and lyrical tandas, and didn’t disappoint. The music throughout the entire evening was beautiful.

One thing about hardly dancing in London these days: when I do, I have a very long list of followers on my dance card! Almost the whole of London tango turns out for the embassy milongas, so I was a very busy boy. I did sit out (well, stand out) the milonga tandas, but when it came to the tango and vals ones, I think I skipped only three of them in the course of five hours – and still didn’t manage to dance with all the followers on my list!

While temperatures are now somewhat cooler in London than they have been of late, it was a really close day, with high humidity and not the slightest trace of a breeze. Even though both doors and windows were open, my fan was deployed for the first 30 seconds of each song, and I spent most of the milonga breaks on the balconies desperately trying to cool down.

By 9pm, I swore I had no energy left. I kept promising myself I was going to leave early, but no – I danced through to the last tanda. My feet, hips, and core were all completely dead, but my heart couldn’t have been happier. It was a second joyous evening of non-stop dance.

Next up, Tango Journey Popup, Datchet on Sunday (yep, another village hall!).