Sitting on the roof terrace a warm breeze blows, there´s a pleasant clinking of dishes from the nearby restaurant kitchen. The wind changes direction and another sound floats across. Clapping, stamping and guitar music fills the night air, drowning the wash of the tide on the shingle beach.
I was drawn. My feet led, seeking out the source of my enticement the enchanted call of live flamenco.
I find a table and watch the dynamic whirling, stopping, sensual act abruptly end and I gasp I´d been holding my breath, unaware, unintentionally my body reacting to the call of flamenco, the duende. The Spanish term for the inexplicable depth and passion that surrounds the art of flamenco dance and music.
A good Rioja in hand and superb tapas of fresh battered hake, a fried sardine with red pepper and coleslaw live flamenco and sea air made for my best tapas experience yet (photo on right) and a well-spent 2.50€. I´ll be back.
The bar was in the process of changing it´s name and had two different ones, neither of which I wrote down! It´s opposite Hotel Almijara, next to the guitar workshop where my son was doing an apprenticeship with Stephen Hill. He now makes his own Spanish guitars, takes orders and has this flamenca blanca guitar for sale.