7.04am The alarm goes off. Snooze. Snooze. Snooze. I slowly get out of bed, get them out of bed, brush my teeth, brush their teeth, dress up, dress them up, kisses to all and go!
8.02am I’m out the door. Helmet, keys, phone, ready to hit the road. July, London, nice breeze on the bike.
8.30am Coffee and nuts at the office, a nice chat by the coffee machine.
9.00am Numbers, charts, meetings till lunchtime.
12.40pm Lunch from the canteen, healthy and free, what else can you ask for?! A little walk with my colleague Tom outside the office (happens to be Little Venice, lucky me!).
1.20pm More meetings, numbers and charts till 4.29pm.
4.30pm Home time: helmet, keys, phone, ready to hit the road. July, London, nice breeze on the bike.
5.02pm Arrive at home, start the laundry, peel the potatoes, boil the water, put the sausages in the oven. While I get ready in the shower, the sausages and potatoes are ready too.
5.43pm Dash to nursery, but instead of starting the second shift in the playground, home again, baby sitter is coming.
6.15pm Helmet, keys, phone, ready to hit the road. July, London, nice breeze on the bike.
6.32pm Arrive at Shakespeare’s Head for a quick beer with friends before the concert.
7.15pm Head over to Sadler’s Wells, and watch the theatre fill up.
7.30pm Flamenco!
9.18pm The show is over, the night is young. After a chat with friends about the concert: helmet, keys, phone, ready to hit the road. July, London, nice breeze on the bike.
10.25pm Home, dinner, blog, bed. Dreams only arrive after midnight.
7.04am The alarm goes off again, and a new day of the London Flamenco Festival starts…
After more than a decade of Flamenco Festival in London, in 2019 Sadler’s Wells moved the festival from its February-March program to July. Scary? Brave? Miguel Marín, the director of the festival expressed his initial concerns about the new date: summer, holidays, will people come to see flamenco, when it’s nice and warm outside and they could be sitting on a terrace sipping Pimm’s?!
Well, I don’t know the sales figures, but I saw the theatre packed every night. Plus it felt more like shows in Spain:, because it was hot. And after all, it’s easier to relate flamenco to the hot summers I lived in Spain, than the cold Februaries I live in London… so I say, it was a good decision.
It was two weeks of madness due to the number of concerts I went to, but now that it’s over, I miss every moment of it…
Fascinating Flamenco 