Dripping

We woke to absolutely torrential rain and continuous thunder and lightning. It hardly seemed worth getting out of bed. Even Mystère retreated indoors after a brief sortie. But eventually we got up, lit the fire, and spent almost all day indoors; the rain did more or less stop in mid-afternoon, so I nipped out for the usual wet flowers.

In the evening I went with S and T to the first flamenco show of the year, featuring local singer El Turry, who is wildly popular. Dancing was done by the whirling dervish Vero La India; she only did one dance, but it went on for a long time and finished in a flourish of running mascara, earrings flying across the stage, and her hair coming out of its neat plait and whirling around her shoulders (see video linked above for a sample of her style). And then for a surprise ending El Turry introduced his dad, playing the guitar for a final number.

Afterwards we went, of course, to the backstop for a drink that turned into two, then three ...