Call it stereotypes and clichés, but you wont believe it til you come here. Andalusia is flamenco and flamenco is Andalusia. Those two things are inseparable and they cannot live without each other.

It was my first time in Andalusia. Three years ago. Granadian houses were vibrating with castanets and heels beating the rythm of flamenco. While rambling through tiny streets of andalusian cities, towns and villages I always lingered for a while to dance silently with them. There is a spanish saying - El flamenco grita lo que mi alma calla - Flamenco shouts out what my heart keeps silent....and my heart cannot keep silent that inner storm inside of me anymore. So I gave up and signed up for a course. Well, actually for a couple of flamenco courses :D My first teacher is a MAN. Moreover he said that he loves PUNCTUALITY and he has DREADLOCKS. This flamenco god is a mystery for me. Of course the course starts with a cheeck kissing all class participants and when all essential talks like who ate what for lunch, terribly cold weather (it´s 23 degrees now) and high prices for jamon are behind, we start shouting what our heart was keeping silent...