A night of Flamenco in Madrid

Madrid, a city full of art, tapas bars, and a bustling street life. An invitation from a man from Couch Surfing to go with him to see flamenco music. Advised I should come alone as this is not a regular tourist place, only attended by a small group of regualar locals.

We arrange to meet at Plaza Mayor – near the statue in the centre. As always finding the place presents quite a challenge to me but eventually we meet and he takes me to the bar.

The bar is very small. We enter and I wonder where the flamenco is! I am expecting a big stage, some dancers in large frilly dresses performaing to live music from a band...but the bar is quite quiet with no signs of such a performance!

We purchase drinks and he leads me down a small flight of stairs. I would like to describe a darkened room, hazy from cigar smoke with people standing around or dancing to the music... but due to recent smoke bans in bars here in Spain, this was not the case! Instead the small room was well lit, with chairs lining all the walls. All the chair were occupied with people, enjoying their drinks and nibbling on nuts or olives. On the far wall was a young man playing flamenco guitar. He played continuously, and as he played someone would stand up and sing, sometime using great arm gestures to help emphaises what they were singing about, and sometimes more quiet and reflective but always resonding to what the previous singer had been talking about!

The audience were very engaged with all of the singers, laughing when a joke was made, inciting singers at times and at other times gently encouraging singers, who had perhaps sung for too long to sit down and let another have a go! But always applauding every singer.

I sat with my glass of Rioja, totally memorised by what was happening. Here was a group of local people, sharing a tradition of music, food and company, which was incredibly powerful, beauitful and culturally enriching for me. In this small room was a certain intamicy of sharing that cannot be created as a spectacle for tourists, but only be a group of people who are there for the true experience of sharing this time together, and who not afraid to sing for fear of being ridculed.

As I walked up the stairs and out into the cool streets of Madrid, and ran to catch the metro back to my hostel, I was once again struck by the beauty of travelling, when one gets to really – even for few short hours – experince a taste of another culture and style of life different to one's own!