It was a cold foggy night, there was four of us. We were all heading to one destination, the cafe'. A small place on a main road in an area not many people are familiar with. We arrived, there was a gate with little white flags above it. Similar to a Japanese shrine. As the gate creaked open all that was in sight was tealights placed meters apart, lining the walkway. The ground, shrouded in black. The bushes lit with an orange glow. We walked up the side passage, wary of our steps. As we turned into the tiny courtyard we were greeted by a gathering of people, blowing clouds of smoke into the frosty air. I held my breath as i shuffled my way through the crowd. As we got inside the crowd of people that were outside had multiplied by mass inside. It was dark, packed and hot. We could barely find a plae to stand to watch the aspiring talents perform on the tiny stage by the front door. We eventually made space and chilled out to watch the shows. The first few were of locals performing amazing house music. And the next few were poems.
Eventually it began to fizzle out, people were leaving and thus more seats were available. I sat next to a man with a chiselled tanned face. I knew he wasn’t from around here. He was curious. He seemed gentle. Just as we were about to leave to head back to the flat, I noticed he had gone up onto the stage. He stood boldly above the remaining few people seated below the cafe’s counter. He calmly took the microphone and said quietly “Hello, my name is..” I forgot his name, completely enthralled by his accent. “I’m from Argentina, Tonight I’m going to sing you, the Salsa!” I was bedazzled I couldn’t move from my seat even though my group were pulling me to leave. I mustered up the energy to get up. We left the smoky cafe’ and began to head home. Me, disappointed as usual and my friends tired as hell.
That was an amazing cafe’ and that was an amazing guy. The only thing I regret is not having another few minutes to listen to that amazing voice.