Naked Tango V The Gay Gordons on La Gomera

Posted: March 23, 2011 in Life, Spain, Travel
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

How do you prevent someone from doing a naked tango on the open air terrace of a restaurant? You distract them with the Gay Gordons that’s how.

There’s no such thing as a conventional arrival on La Gomera. That’s partly because of La Gomera and partly because our friend Jo doesn’t really do conventional. From the moment we stepped off the little Binter plane on La Gomera we submitted ourselves to the swirling winds that constituted Jo’s plans.

The flight across had been a stunner; clear skies and a flight path via the north and west of Tenerife revealed a snow covered landscape that was more Alpine than African. La Gomera airport lies outside Playa Santiago, La Gomera’s version of Los Gigantes and the place you’re most likely to hear British voices on the island.

With other friends Sarah (not long back from 2 years with the VSO in Sri Lanka) and Keith (once took 2 weeks off work to drive a van from La Gomera to Blighty – took him 8 months) also waiting for us, the party was ready to start from the moment we set foot on terra firma.

It was Jo’s birthday weekend and lunch had been arranged for a motley crew of her friends at the Tagoror Restaurant. The Tagoror isn’t far from the Jardin Tecina Hotel and seemed to be one of the few places on the hill overlooking Playa Santiago that wasn’t owned by Fred Olsen. With its large scenic terrace, arty décor, jazzy chill out music and a menu that keeps both veggies and carnivores smiling it’s a top place for lunch.

It’s also the place where, we discovered as we arrived, that walking guide Gordo (Jo´s neighbour – if a few kilometres across a valley constitutes being a neighbour ) brings his tango-ing walking group.

As we ate a long leisurely lunch (sama, sardines, an appealing home-made hamburger and a pork fillet) and quaffed a few beers in the hot sunshine (I made a rookie error and didn’t put on sun cream – result glowing unattractive two-tone pink look by the end of the afternoon) the chat twisted and turned refusing to stay still before it eventually returned to the subject of Gordo’s dancing walkers.

Mostly Gordo’s walking groups don’t tango but each year he gets a group of visiting tango dancers who like to go on a walk, have lunch at the Tagoror and then tango on the terrace afterwards. Years ago we’d seen a movie called Naked Tango which had rather an erotic scene where the female star tango’d naked in front of a blindfolded orchestra and Andy described the scene, asking Gordo if any of his tango-ing walking group practised this au natural version of the dance. As drink had been taken and just in case anyone got the idea of playing out the scene for real everyone was made to promise not to tango naked on the Tagoror terrace. Everyone duly  obliged except Sarah. Normally you wouldn’t have to worry about friends impulsively dancing a naked tango in public but Saz can be unpredictable so, just to be sure, the subject was quickly changed to another dance to distract. Don’t ask me how but for some reason the Gay Gordons was mentioned. Of course when the non-Brits around the table heard the term ‘the Gay Gordons’ they were fascinated, so a demonstration was suggested…by Sarah. Unfortunately the only other non-Brit male in the company apart from me was southerner Keith who denied all knowledge of the dance.

So at around 4.30pm on Friday, about five hours after we’d arrived on La Gomera, I found myself and Sarah jigging up and down the terrace in front of bemused diners demonstrating the steps of a dance with a snigger inducing name.

Like I said at the start, there is no such thing as a conventional arrival on La Gomera.

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Comments
  1. islandmomma Life on a Small Island and Beyond says:

    I have a Gay Gordons story! Many moons ago I was invited to the Tattie Ball in Perth, and bought myself a stunning, black lace, strapless dress for the occasion. What I didn’t know was that between buying it and attending the ball I’d become pregnant. All I knew on the night was that I almost popped out of the dress as my partner twirled me around, causing my sudden flight from the dance floor. The following year, back to my normal weight, I bought myself another stunning dress. A very expensive one. It had a plunging neckline, very plunging, and the guys all thought that they were going to have a repeat performance, but the dress was so well cut and made that my boobs didn’t budge an inch…. no matter HOW hard they tried to twirl me!

    • dragojac says:

      Brilliant LOL – sounds like your dresses should come with an advisory label;’wear with caution if planning on dancing the Gay Gordons’. Now we know what the real purpose of the dance is. Makes the name sort of ironic 🙂

  2. islandmomma Life on a Small Island and Beyond says:

    LOL – they used to, those days are long gone now, partly thanks to that pregnancy!

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