Flamenco
My dad was a bit of a 'bohemian',
and from him I got the desire to travel the road with a sleeping bag. Live on
Bread, Apples and Cheese. Say 'Yes' to offers of adventure. I have mostly been a solitary traveller with
a cardboard suitcase, living in an "8'x12'
4-bit room" - because I don't drive. I still had a lot of empathy with the
Travellers of my generation, as well as with the 'gypsies' - I think Rom
might be politer - (nomadic people are always demonized by land-grabbers and
nation states). 
A
short article I wrote about travelling players...
When I went to Spain in 1985 to suss out the juggling convention, I met a great Gitano in Seville - Jose Vega Campo. He took me around the back-streets, and showed me stuff I could never have seen on my own. He put up with my hippie (bearded) appearance, but gave me 'una gorra' (a cap) - and a jean jacket - as a bit of camouflage when I eventually went to live in his estate in the Polígono Sur. [That link takes you to a documentary about the place - scroll down and watch the trailer, or listen to the music for a flavour of the place] It was great getting immersed in Spanish (even if it was a guttural argot - with quite a bit of Caló - the gitano version of Romany. I was often very confused, but people were always kind and hospitable to me). I promised Jose that if I got another film gig when I got back to England, I would return with some money in my pocket.
Sure
enough, I did months of work on 'Little Shop of Horrors' so the first place I
went was Seville...met him on the first day...still hustling with his shoe-shine
routine. He had always said a bit of capital and a car would mean we could go
work the Férias around the country, with me juggling and doing magic, him
selling bottled water, or singing or whatever (this was never quite clear). So we went and bought a car from
his cousin.
I am sure that some of
friends thought he had a 'live one' in tow, but if so, it was mutual
exploitation. I don't drive, and it was far more convenient than taxis (who
didn't always want to go to the Polígono...) Anyway - with our own car we could
go to a Potaje to eat, drink and listen
to some real Flamenco. I bought a tape from Juana
la del Revuelo, who came around with a basket of cassettes. Fantastic night!
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| The programme from the Potaje at Utrera | The musicians and the menu |