That's right folks, In the Name of Love (or 'luurve' when said after a show, and two drinks)
It's the name of the first production I've been in since leaving dat ole Cruisin' bidness.
The gig was in Portugal's Algarve, Lagoa to be precise, and at 75o euros for just one show (plus five days rehearsal) it was also twice the pay I'd have earned from a week at sea. I wish jobs came along like this more often....Here's the programme.
And look, me! I have no idea if my Biog is correct, it's all Portugese to me...
The three other dancers in the cast were the nicest people you could ever hope to meet, and way too talented to be kicking around with the likes of me.
Here are the two guys, after a particularly tough day of rehearsing, and about to go for a beer at a pasteleria across the street.
Taxis, flights, hotel accommodation in my own room
(just when I thought I'd eradicated it from my vocabulary, the Hotel Cristal!)
breakfast AND dinner all paid for -a local restaurant 'sponsored' us for the latter- plus music composed by an emotional Serbian named Zoran who actually cried during rehearsals, the show, seeing us interact at dinner (no joke, the guy loved us) added up to a pretty damn-near perfect job, even with pointe shoes on.
Here are mine, all pancaked up to look like extensions of my feet, which they most definitely are not.
I always have to ask myself how something so biologically wrong can look so pleasing onstage?
In a nutshell, it was an original work, and original choreography. (Read: nobody ever did it before, so I could call a few shots)
The dressing rooms were the nicest and newest I've ever been in. Check it out: FREE WATER!
Humble dancers never usually get such things.
And this shower is unbelieveable of a theatre its' size (350 pax).
The piano/violin/flute trio who accompanied us without conductor (we were only in the second act, time for nice long warm-up at the Get-Go!) made the whole thing unpredictable- one piece was decidedly slow- but lyrical and lovely. Not to get all artistic, but I could actually feel them. No tracks to fill, no old rehashing of Broadway, just us.
This is my partner and I, about a minute after pretty-much nailing our first pas de deux, called Nostalgia (but you have to say "NostalGIA" not the English "NosTALgia")
I'll have to work out how to put video on this thing and put it up here when I get the DVD through (just don't tell anyone, OK?)
My mum flew out to see me the day before the performance, to see the show and also to revisit Carvoeiro, the village in which we were staying and also the place we've holidayed when I was little, in this very villa actually.
I always think it's funny how life sometimes throws you opportunities like these (and even calls them NostalGIA!). Here we are exploring the resort we stayed in about 20 years ago.
I jumped into this pool from here,
and cracked my chin open...
and we used to eat here in this restaurant where the steaks come on sizzling hot stones.
My sister I remember fell into this fountain, and they used to have a Portugese dance troupe in this area with the fish mosaic.
Look, it was all so new when we first came here!
There's a bar for sale in my beloved square. Hmm, what would I call my bar?
We found a Donkey Protection Charity shop. I never saw one before. Burro's Bazar would be an awesome name for a bar! ...Right?
Eric, not to be outdone, flew out on the day of the performance, in true Rock n Roll fashion having driven all night after a gig to get to Stansted (cue Roy Orbison). Easyjet is a wonderful thing people!
After the performance and party, my new friends went home early Sunday morning.
Eric, Mum and I stayed until Monday, giving us a free day to go and explore Silves, an historic town which dates back to the Iron Age and boasts this impressive castle and Knight's Templar connections, although apparently Saudi Arabia has been trying to reclaim it since as they had resided in it for many years later.
I remember gazing through these long narrow windows as a child, now look! There's a man through this one, and he's my one!
I want to know what all these notches are about...sharpening arrows before shooting them through the windows?
As you can see, the weather is, and had been for the whole week, not great.
From the top of one of the castle turrets,
you can see a wonderful mausoleum and collection of buildings housing coffins (I have no idea what you're supposed to call them!), like I saw in Buenos Aires where Eva Peron is buried. I wonder if it has been overrun with cats like it's Argentinian counterpart.
We slept half the day, Eric catching up on his lack of sleep the night before (Ah!),
me just catching up due to poor sleep after a week of intensive dancing (I never ached so much in my whole career) and mum chilling out.
And then we went out and ate. Oh yes, we ate. Mushrooms, huge shrimps, steak, and more garlic than you could shake at Lestadt himself.
Back to the UK then, and back to unemployment.