C for Cumbria - D for Dalston - V for Victory

photo courtesy of Keith Shaw Buckley

The Smart roadster is humming. In spectacular sunshine, with long, clear views towards Great Ormside we slide effortlessly west along the A66 through Westmorland towards Cumberland.

Our destination today is the Sunday tango tea at Dalston, to the south of Carlisle, and east of little more than the Irish Sea. Last mentioned here in this blog in June 2012, we really needed to update our Dalston experience - to see whether we could recapture the delights of our visit three years ago.

It may be because Dalston lies west the M6 and east of the Solway coast - a stopping point for only deepest Cumbria or Dumfriesshire, that you have not heard of this place. Dalston unfolds around the village green, beyond which is situated the 1921 Victory Hall. Despite it's prettiness in the afternoon sun, it is hard to imagine other reasons to visit - save for tango, the enveloping Cumbrian welcome, and the prospect of a delicious tango tea.

We arrive almost simultaneously with Angie and Anna, with whom we had discussed our trip and pre-negotiated tandas. Kai leaps from the car, clearly keen for tango. We believe that Kai is one of a very small band of tango-loving dogs, so gaining his acquaintance is a privilege.

The strains of tango are not yet to be heard, but the hall is already filling with Cumbrians and those, like us, that have ventured from the other side of the Pennines. Our arrival is greeted with hugs. Here, it is as if we have arrived in the 49th bario of Buenos Aires. The first of Tim's sixteen tandas, De Angelis' Zorro Gris opens the milonga. This will be a tango journey that takes us through Manuel Buzon, D'Arienzo, Di Sarli, Calo, Canaro, OTV, Tanturi, Biagi, Pugliese, Firpo, Troilo, ending with the fabulous and lyrical Rodriguez - a Cumbrian smörgåsbord of Golden Age orchestras.

The Dalston tango tea is very much a traditional event, where cabeceo and mirada are encouraged (but not demanded), and where the courtesy of floorcraft is expected. This is a place for the mature dancer - not necessarily by age, nor by experience - but by approach and mindset. Beginners pepper the tables and are brought to the pista by experienced tangueros. The young are assisted on their tango journey by the old; mirroring the traditional milongas of Buenos Aires. Tango skills are highly evident, but as important is the 'milonga etiquette', making the Dalston tango tea a very special moment, however experienced or new to tango.

And then there is the tea! I have already been taken to task on Facebook for speaking of tea - and not of cake. Today, cake abounded, including for Stephanie,  preciously, Joanna's magnificent gluten-free chocolate cake. It is, of course, the summer solstice, approaching midsummer's day, so strawberries and raspberries dress the table. Quintessentially English, silhouetted against quintessentially Buenos Aires.

So, Dalston tango tea, ending with Rodrigues' 'Cafe', followed by Troilo's La Cumparasita was an unsurpassed delight. For those that want to step back to the Golden Age of both tango, and of tea - this is your place and destination.

We loved:

• Tim's playlist, together with the printout left at each table;
• The formal, traditional setting and atmosphere of milonga;
• The warmth of reception, and inclusion of dancers;
• The tea (including Argentine Maté) - and the cake (including English strawberries);
• Everything!

Argentine tango....where?

photo courtesy of  john hennessy

If you think slipping from the Pennine clouds into Cumbria does not seem the proper prelude for a milonga... wrong!

Leaving my home in Darlington for the Pennines meant exchanging light rain for heavy mist which encircles my little Smart car and gives the feeling of being raised on a vortex of cloud. From the Stainmore gap and Brough, the high A66 road drops gently into Westmorland - despite its' geographic assimilation into Cumbria I still see this lush and gentle landscape thus. The Gypsy and Romany travellers heading for the hills with their horse pulled caravans are now behind us, and ahead is their destination - the town of Appleby, where a famous horse market is held each year in the late Spring bank holiday. Down below, curls of woodsmoke rise from the red sandstone chimneys of the tiniest cottages, and the rich, sumptuous fields of the North West open towards spring-green woodland and raindrops on tousled cobwebs.

My ultimate destination is Dalston in Cumberland, a small village tossed around a green, bearing that well-washed Cumbria feel. Down on the right is the Victory Hall. After the First World War, the worthy and wealthy Cumbrians of Dalston subscribed to the project, and by 1921 Victory Hall opened its doors for the first time. Then, and for the next ninety years, the mainstay of social life in this remote backwater was to be the village dance. This was where young men met the lasses they would marry, and where after the wedding they would celebrate by dancing.

Today, the dance is not the Cumberland Square Eight (do look it up if you are not familiar with it) but more remote - from 7,000 Atlantic miles away - tango from Buenos Aires, Argentina. As the Smart car nestles into the smallest of spaces to the right of the hall's canopy, the sound of 'Vida Mía played by Osvaldo Fresedo's orchestra slips beneath the double doors that give onto the main hall. Inside, already dancers walk easily and gently on the polished wooden blocks, and the smell of old curtains is replaced by the scent of fresh baked cakes and tea. Yes, this is Tango in Cumbria's tea dance.

The tea dance is one of the most special events you could conceive. Imagine a table laden with fresh sandwiches, home made cakes and scones. Add to the mix an aromatic Darjeeling tea and the clink of tea cups on saucers. Now finish the picture with the sounds of tango, a late afternoon blackbird singing, and the swish and swirl of dancers. And there you have it....the tea dance.

Francesca has entreated those attending to come as 'Monarchists or Republicans', but being England's most remote county, there is not a Republican to be seen. Queen Victoria is here, as is Prince Albert, the current Queen's grandparents. In their shadow, we are but footman and lady-in-waiting - but it is Francesca that attracts the attention. She is the 'Pippa Middleton of Dalston', her delicious curves shown to great effect beneath her micro skirt: "I shall have to wear fewer clothes next time"...yes, Francesca, yes.

Today, Philip, event organiser (no relation to the Duke), has skillfully created a piece of Buenos Aires in Cumbria. We change into dancing shoes, mine the Darcos and Stephanie the Comme il Fauts. Then to the floor, to be wrapped in Cumbrian romance and later satiated with carrot cake, strawberry flan and Earl Grey. 

As the last of the late Spring showers taps the windows, giving way to shards of sunshine through the clouds, the music ends, tea cups are carried tinkling away, and the tango embrace ends. Who said that you need to be Argentine to host a milonga? Well, Dalston proves you wrong!