'Full of such sensual detail that to read it is to breathe it in.'
- Jo Shapcott [review, Greyhound Night Service]

What'cha gonna give me for that piece of cornbread...


I'm just surfacing now from a sweaty and wild weekend in Tampa. On Saturday my fabulous co-dancing friend and I went to Cajun Cafe on the Bayou's 13th Annual Crawfish Festival. Except we didn't go for the Crawfish, we'zuh went fo de zydeco rhythms. And after a glorious 7 hours of dancing to such wonderful bands as T-Broussard and the Zydeco Steppers, Zydeco HouseRockers and (my favourite by far) Dora and The Entourage, leg muscles I'd forgotten I had started to ache. And then my arms started to throb too. This reminds me that my new year's resolution is to get in shape...well Saturday helped me along that road again!

Being here again and feeling those clicking thumping thwacking beats of zydeco and feeling the floor vibrate with heels and stomps made me incredibly homesick and hungry for more, more time to dance and listen to frottoir, here, in the heat and buzz of the now-too-rare, Tampa Cajun scene.

And not one but two, two breakfasts at the best place in town, La Teresita (I'd fly all this way just for their black beans and cafe con leche!) kept me going all weekend and into the beginning of this week. Last time I was here (18 months ago) I had breakfast at Teresita's and it was so unbelievably orgasmic I dreamt about it and compared every breakfast with it all these months. Nothing came close, until I returned...

Tomorrow I'll be moving on again. I truly feel like a migrant this past week, visiting so many people I love in such a short space of time. Go where the wind takes me. And this visit, there is a lovely warm-and-not-too-hot breeze. Just perfect.

Laissez le bon temps rouler! Let the good times roll!

Comments

  1. bring some of that warm-and-not-too-hot breeze back with you.
    can't take much more of these blogs ... making me faaaaaarrrrrr toooooooooo homesick. esp the breakfast comments. reminds me of alabama days, at the end of a cynical week of poverty law in b'ham, another lawyer and i would go shoot pool til the dawn hours and then have a southern breakfast at our favorite diner, after which we headed home and crashed til about noon on saturday.

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  2. Thanks OwlEars. What can I say, the heat and food and music combined make an irresistible combination! I'd bring some black beans and rice for you if I could trust myself not to eat them on the plane...

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