d-pict | dance odyssey

On Sunday, Neil, Mauve and I took the train from the historic centre of Barcelona almost to the end of the line and walked a few hundred metres up the hill. CanMasdeu is a huge, institutional building, surrounded by trees and a veggie garden. It has a cross over its highest arch and has a view across the city, to the sea. The site has an interesting history that goes back to Roman times, later housing a convent, and then a lepers hospital. Today it is a squatted social and cultural centre. We arrive just in time for a simple meal in the garden, and the start of a range of workshops. Our attempt to participate in the outdoor art workshop is aborted after I'm attacked by mosquitoes. Neil, Mauve and I return to the building to try a movement and intimacy workshop. The dance studio is a beautiful room with windows looking out onto the green hills, and an amazing black rubber floor. We are guided through breathing and relaxation meditations in corpse pose. We visualise colour and...

What an adventure... encounters with strangers, soon to become friends. There were so many happy moments at Drag the Blues festival… dancing by night, exploring Barcelona by day.   The highlight of the first night was the after-party at TeatreNeu... a cosy two-storey bar with large, airy wooden floors. Dreamy dances happened here. I teamed up with dancers who would be free in the daytime: my lovely Californian roommate Dana, Neil from Bristol, Amy from LA and Mauve from Toulouse. The next morning, Neil came over to drop off some luggage. As Dana is a masseuse, we had discussed doing exchanges the night before. Massages got the day off to a great start, and set the tone for a warm, physical connection that grew as the weekend went on. Arm in arm with Dana, we strolled down las Ramblas, admired a few Gaudi facades, and found a laneway terrasse for lunch. There has been a municipal crackdown on the buskers, so they still play – but only very short sets before moving on. Barce...

It pains me that four of the nine black people I've seen here in Navarra are are beggars. Today I bought shampoo from a friendly black lady in the market. But at two of the four market gates, a young fit black man stands, with a cup in hand, eyeing passers by. Of course I get the full eyeball, up down. Same thing at the supermarket across the road. Black people are a highly visible, small minority here, so there is that moment of recognition and then a very uncomfortable moment. I would like to feel solidarity, warmth. Instead as they stare, I feel harassed... the guilting of a beggar, plus an undertone of sexual harassment. One of the beggars is more polite... smiles more, stares less... but I still want to avoid him. Passing them, I feel anger, fear, contempt. Two kinds of fear... of the beggar, and of the racism that feeds off their image. I don't choose to feel this way. Without wanting to blame the victim, I'm ashamed of how they inhabit a negative stereotype, perpe...

After a few days hermiting indoors, working on tour logistics, I was due for an outing, a day of tourism and sunshine. The Camino de Santiago beckoned, but I decided not to risk foot pain and bedbugs on this dance tour! And while I eyed the canoeists with envy, no canoe was available. Finally, I found an affordable local bike rental. Everything is near here... it's a small town with a great design. I've never seen a town map with so much public green space, except maybe Geneva. Most of the river bank is a public park, part of a 33km nature corridor on the river connecting several local towns. Development of the riverbank is also naturally constrained by steep cliffs running along one side for several kilometres. Pamplona is at the top of this cliff, with parks and city walls offering expansive views over suburbs and pine forested hills. In medieval times, Pamplona was the capital of the Kingdom of Navarra, a region that still enjoys some autonomy to this day. The town...

My host is a concert harp player and I'm enjoying her practice session. The dulcet tones resonate through the otherwise unadorned white walls of her modern apartment. It's like she's painting in floral patterns, sometimes shadowy, sometimes bright. Its such a pure and emotional sound, I feel like I'm in a movie. This morning I met her over a simple and wholesome breakfast of porridge and fruit. Ideal after after a weekend of mostly white bread and salty, oily bar food. By every other measure though, the weekend was excellent... worth the epic journey from Dijon. It started at dawn, with a kiss goodbye from Sophie, then three trains, a bus, a Blabla car and a kindly dancer's car landed me and my ridiculous luggage in the Spanish village of Zugurramurdi after nightfall. Cave Of Blues promised a memorable experience and they delivered. About 60 friendly folk including musicians made this an intimate affair. Most of the dancers are from cities in this region, al...

Brame des cerfs / Bell of deer The landscape has a feminine silhouette, a small rise between dark, curving thighs. The air is sweet and cold. Silence is punctuated by the high, round sound of owls and the deep bell of the deer. The stag with the deepest, strongest bell will be chosen by the does. Bellows, roars and staccato grunts sound from near and far. Brame, bell, mating call. Stars centred over the valley take the form of a running deer. One of the stars drifts away to the right... a satellite. Still the star deer was running, and the Milky Way spilling light into the falling night. //Bourgignon// Travelling mostly among strangers since August, it's special to be welcomed by a dear friend in her family home. Besides my dad, Sophie was my only visitor from Europe to Sydney, so it's a joy to return the favour and visit her in France. On my first day S. proudly showed me around her town of Dijon. Owls are recurring emblem, reputed to bring creative inspiration. Man...

One of the reasons I wanted to visit Copenhagen is that 55% of daily commutes are made by bike. By contrast the figure for Sydney is 6%. Who gets excited about good urban infrastructure? I do! I was curious about this smart Scandinavian city.  And yes, to join the flow of riders on the continuous network of dedicated bike lanes has been a great experience. Not surprisingly, the train network is also excellent... and designed to accommodate bikes. This greatly extends the distance you can cover with your bike, and helps also if the weather gets too rough. Weather can be a challenge here, but the terrain is easy. Flat, flat and flat! It's Saturday and I have spent the day touring this lovely city by bike and 'Harbour Bus' (boat). Sadly I'm too exhausted now to go dancing, but in these northern latitudes such a fine sunny, day was not to be wasted. I enjoyed an open air antique market, a very decadent cake and a stroll in the Botanic Gardens. Some people get exci...

Zach is an American gentleman who has done a dance tour of Europe by motorbike. We compared stories, how the kindness of strangers and dance community can shape your experience, the beauty of 'paying it forward'. Thank you Zach for welcoming me to Prague with a hosting offer, cake, and a shortlist of your favourite places in the old town.  Maitrea translates as loving kindness, how fitting. At this elegant vegetarian restaurant, I met the lovely Rumena – a British homeopath in town for a conference. We teamed up to explore the old town, and pooled our knowledge of Prague's history, its many churches, Wenceslas the fratricidal king. We saw the newest oldest synagogue, the Kafka museum, the river banks and bridges. Rumena and I bonded over hats and strudel... between us we bought 3 Tonak hats! Zach! We might be as stylish as you are one day ;) One of the great things about the dance odyssey... it takes me well off the tourist trail and into real, lived-in neighbourhood...

I'm full of endorphins after a vigorous massage from a handsome Hungarian man. I lie on a couch and immerse myself in the kaleidoscopic colours of Gellert baths antique stained glass walls and ceilings. The ceiling is studded with nipple-shaped geometric domes. There is a high, wide freize... the sweeping lead lines dissect and connect nude human, plant and wave forms in jewel colours. What colour is the river Danube? I try to think of a pretty adjective, but really it's beige. I haven't even seen its ruffled surface change to reflect the sky, except when it disappears into the oily black of night. Beige doesn't seem to belong in a sentence with the busy, rushing artery of the grand old dame, Budapest. So what colour is the river? The colour is danube – ideal for understated interiors, or dipping your biscuit in. It's my last night here and I'm not in a hurry to move on ...I would like to spend more time writing in the beautiful Ervin Szabo library,...

My first few days in Budapest were spent mostly at home, in the local library or local cafes, booking travel and doing admin. There were no dances, but it was okay because I still had a horrible cough and I needed to recover. I was also very emotional, missing my lovely Italian host family and crying about my own family's problems. Still, I appreciated the city on the Danube by bike, lots of great food and a relaxing arvo at the famous Gellert baths. First dances My mood started to lift on Friday evening at contact improvisation, my health was on the mend. And I was excited to go to my first swing dance later that night. When I arrived about 11pm in the studio on Paulay, the room was almost empty... less than 10 people sat around the corners and one couple was dancing, or maybe two, on a lovely smooth parquet floor. Interesting, slow swing music -- I started to dance, and then one of the guys offered me his hand. The ice was broken and after that I danced with most of the gu...

I hired a bike and rode across the river to Gellert baths for an open air swim, a warm fountain pounding my shoulders, a sauna and the last rays of the sun on the poolside terrace. Then it was a beautiful ride up river to find the contact dance studio. I am very lucky to find it because it's locked away in a vast, rambling arts complex full of confusing long corridors and mysterious doors. The class and jam take place in the studio of a well-established theatrical dance troupe called the Symptoms. The photos of their shows are very moody, inspiring, creative... I'm impressed, curious. The class and dance was of a very high standard – artistically more interesting – but less friendly than the Sydney local scene. The teacher Eszter Gál has 25 years experience and it shows. She maintained a continuous flow of bilingual ideas and guidance, in an undulating soothing rhythm and tone throughout the class. This guided hour before the jam was almost entirely solo. Usually I wo...

My first morning in Budapest started uneventfully ... a step across the road to the bakery and then a stroll around the neighbourhood, looking for a leafy, sunny spot with wifi. Most of the tables in the park are taken. There is a table of men and women talking. At another table four men sit drinking bottles of beer. It's 11AM on a Tuesday morning and judging by their neat clothes, they could be on their way to (or from) work.  I looped back to my Airbnb. The apartment staircase within the private courtyard was my best Wi-Fi and tea spot. And so I sat for probably a good hour journalling, tapping on my phone. Neighbours came and went on the opposite stairs. Then an old, fat, moustachioed man with a yellow shirt came to talk to me. I don't speak Hungarian, I said.  --Francais? Yes. --  What you are doing there doesn't work. And he gestured for me to leave the premises. I'm not blocking his path. He thinks I'm trespassing. "I'm sleeping here, at my fri...

Cyril is a well of knowledge with a passion for African diaspora culture, and he kindly hosted me for a few days Lyon. I scratched the surface of his wonderful library – always a source of inspiration. I'm looking forward to his forthcoming book, Voices of the Diaspora. Cyril remarked on how I helped him to discover new things in his own city. I marvelled at the serenity of his apartment and of Lyon in general. The quiet of Lyon after the roar, the bustle of Bali, was astonishing. Structurally Lyon is my ideal city: bike friendly, walkable urban planning, elegant tree-top apartment blocks, shady courtyards, turquoise rivers, steep hills and lookouts. There are also many beautiful Afro-French ppl, most notably the gorgeous diva of Trio Aliado who we heard at the Opera terrace. This lady almost made me cry with her beauty, her powerful stage presence. I was moved to tears with empathy for a younger me... otherworldly, head-turning and for all I knew, utterly unique. Of co...

The smell of mandarin peel, horse sweat and leather on my hands after a ride through timeless lush paddy fields. I feel the continuity from plants, crops and trees through horse, dog, cat, chicken, pig, human. This continuity is celebrated in the imagery, costumes, statues, dances and offerings of the daily Hindu worship here. So different from the Christian separation from the animal world. Yet I've seen more animal suffering here than anywhere I can recall. When people live close to their animals they can be surprisingly careless and cruel. In a restaurant: a small menagerie of caged birds includes a sulphur-crested cockatoo, grey skin where his white plumage should have been, constantly falling off his perch and hauling himself back on. While we eat, he constantly chews his metal bars and chains, struggling to be free. A calf tied to a tree has twisted himself into a choke hold and can't undo it. And then there's just the cruelty of nature when it meets the develo...

Like most migrants she brings to a her new home the energy to realise all of her hopes and dreams.  I saw the distinctive silhouette of Michele's twisted Afro hair, and our eyes met as I walked past her Jamaican restaurant.  The next day I popped in to say hi. Straightaway there was a friendly recognition ... she is from Jamaica by way of New York. I am from the neighbouring island of Barbados, by way of Ireland, USA, Australia. A stocky woman (in her 50s?), M had beautiful smooth golden skin, full lips and huge green eyes behind black-rimmed spectacles, her hair dyed dark plum red. She said she would like to have hair like mine one day. We talked about the benefits and challenges of having natural hair. M. said she was done with straightening. Natural all the way. You know your people are oppressed when their default position is to use expensive chemicals in order to resemble the dominant social group or their standards of beauty. As some women need plastic surgery i...

For my first weekend in Bali I'm joined by a dear old friend who lives in Jakarta. Almost 2 decades my senior, Tony pushes me beyond my comfort zone, into the zone of adventure. Tony's plan for our second day in Bali: ride down the mountain through farms and villages for 40km without a guide. The night before collecting the rental bikes we tried them out – they needed work. The shopkeeper said that he would fix them up: firm tyres, oil and working brakes. On the morning of the big ride, my front tyre was mushy. The shopkeeper told me he did not have a pump. Incredulous, I said 'You don't have a pump? But this is a bike shop!' He got on the bike himself and said 'There is enough air.' 'I ride a bike every day,’ I said. 'I know when there is enough air. That tyre is too soft.' The guy disappeared up the road for a short while with the bike, came back and asked me to try it – no difference. When Tony arrived with my coffee, he responded calmly...