Yeah, I know: Londoners complaining about transport is a bit rich. In truth, the fact that I was able to make these journeys at all is testament to how fortunate we are. But hey, it’s my blog, so you’ll have to humour me for a moment.

Sure, I have plenty of TICD within easy cycling distance, but my idea of tango means heading outside London, and my xmas plans in particular required heading west, young man …

Specifically:

• 23rd December: Tango Secrets
• 26th December: Tango Secrets
• Sat 28th Dec (afternoon & evening): Etonathon
• New Year’s Eve: Etonathon

Heading west out of London isn’t usually difficult. The Elizabeth Line, the service which magically transforms itself from a tube train to a mainline train and back as required, is almost on my doorstep, and there are mainline trains from Paddington as a backup.

You might imagine that if you were going to close one of these services for multi-day engineering works, you wouldn’t simultaneously close the other one for multi-day engineering works. But apparently my imagination isn’t good enough. My journeys were rather less direct and more multi-modal than I ideally would have liked – but totally worthwhile.

Tango Secrets

Tango Secrets has long been my absolute favourite regular milonga.

It isn’t always clear what factors contribute to a magical time; tango is filled with mysteries and randomness. But if I were to list the elements that contribute to the best chance of a great milonga, they would be:

• A consistently great DJ
• Skilled, musical followers who dance in close embrace
• Good floorcraft, with couples able to dance within their own space
• A high-quality sound system, properly set up
• Good role balance
• A friendly atmosphere
• Beautiful lighting and decor
• Tea and snacks

Tango Secrets ticks all of those boxes.

Of all of these, role balance is the factor that would usually be both the hardest thing to find, and the one aspect completely outside anyone’s control – yet somehow Tango Secrets manages to achieve this almost every time. I mean, it’s in part because Irina’s classes teach everyone both roles, but even if it were all traditional gender roles, it would still be remarkably close, and that’s great for leaders as well as followers.

As for Irina’s DJing … this needs a little background. I keep notes on every DJ from every milonga I attend, and that’s often the deciding factor when it comes to choosing where and when to dance. In addition to my text descriptions, I originally categorised them as A-list, B-list, Ok, Jury’s Out, and Avoid. (These ratings of course reflect only my own tastes, so I won’t be sharing them publicly.)

The problem I found with this system is that some DJs are more consistent than others. One might be A-rated every time, while another might have a pattern more like Ok-B-A-Ok. Over time, I came to appreciate that consistency is a massively valuable quality in a DJ – knowing I could go to any of their milongas and always love their choice of music. So I had to add another category. A* is reserved for those DJs I’ve rated A on every single occasion, with not even an occasional B+ in the mix. BsAs milongas aside, Irina is one of a very small number of DJs on that list.

I’d long wished the milongas were weekly instead of monthly, and decided the solution might be to try one of the weekly classes and practicas as well. The pre-xmas one was essentially a normal milonga, so no surprise that was as magical as ever, but I’ll be trying an actual practica in the new year.

Also, not long to wait for the White Milonga, which is for sure not to be missed! Also one of the few themed events where I can claim to be appropriately dressed …

Etonathon

The more places I dance outside London, the more I’m convinced I’m living in a tango-specific version of The Truman Show – the biggest clue being that no matter where I go, it’s almost always the same dancers. Tango Secrets. Tango Journey. Biela Tango. CamTango. The Feast. Cheltenham. Sheffield. And Etonathon. Even I recognised around two-thirds of the faces in the room on Saturday.

The beauty of this is that I’m always assured that wonderful dancers will be present – though I do love to dance with unknown followers too.

Paul Strudwick was DJing, and it was truly gorgeous music throughout., Each time I decided it was time for a rest he’d have me right back on my feet again. I did subsequently discover his DJing isn’t always to my taste, but this one was perfect!

Etonathon also has what must be the best floorcraft in Britain. The floor got close to BsAs density levels at times on Saturday night. If you put that many people on a London pista, hospitals would activate their Major Disaster Plans. Yet at Eton things don’t get beyond the occasional gentle nudge, which will immediately lead to both leaders, both followers, and passers-by in the street offering their apologies. I gather this is in no small part thanks to Charles’ proactive approach to monitoring the floor.

I’m a huge fan of cabeceo, but it can have its more interesting moments! The funniest of these at Eton was when three followers – all of whom I love to dance with – were sat at the same table (I mean, how is that even legal in the first place?). The follower I wanted to cabeceo for the specific tanda in question was sat in the middle. A sensible person would have recognised this as overly ambitious.

Anyway, each looked at me, and at each other, and at me again. Throw in various gestures and questioning looks. In short, there was enough mime involved to qualify as a Marcel Marceau performance.

Just as we finally got this sorted out, and I went to meet the correct follower at the corner of the table, another follower from another table entirely stood up and walked onto the floor. I assumed she was going to meet a leader behind me, but no, she was apparently coming to meet me. I only figured this out in hindsight after I’d collected my follower and the errant one went back to her seat.

Normally in these circumstances I’ll make a point of returning to the scene of the crime for the following tanda, to cabeceo the follower I confused, but I couldn’t find her afterwards; if it was you, sorry!

The afternoon absolutely flew by, and I could hardly believe it when the last tanda was called.

Old Windsor is a one-horse town, and the only eatery I’d spotted was the pub across the road. This offered an extensive culinary choice of roast dinner. Afterwards, I didn’t leave a review, I filed a crime report. Next time I’m just eating more cake during the milonga.

One of the aforementioned mysteries of tango is energy level. After dinner, I could have very happily gone for a nap. Or, indeed, just to bed full stop. Yet, as always with tango, within minutes of walking into the evening milonga, I had enough energy to resume dancing almost every tanda. Again, I couldn’t believe how quickly the time whizzed by, and I only skipped the final one because I had to catch the last train back to London.

New Year’s Eve created something of a dilemma. I’d last year gone to a London milonga packed full of friends, and less than half an hour from home. But… a million people jammed onto a floor, and almost literally lethal levels of floorcraft. I think I danced about three tandas before deciding to treat it as a purely social occasion.

Eton, in contrast, was a far more random bet socially, was about 90 minutes’ travel, and would require an overnight stay. But great dance on a supremely civilised floor. The choice I made was a testament to the power of tango: I figured I could socialise another time.

Opening 2025 with two tandas where we had the space to walk almost the entire time felt like a good start to what I very much hope will be a far better-behaved year than its predecessor!

Many thanks to all the wonderful followers, both during the festivities and (half of!) the rest of the year, for bringing so much joy.