Dancing Tango in Hobart

  Apparently I was staying in a remote part of Hobart. The driver of the airport shuttle reluctantly agreed to drop me off, but said I’d have to get my return pick up from one of the hotels in the centre. We don’t normally come out this way. The tour guide who picked me up two days later said it was the first time in his career that he’d picked...

Tango come rain, hail or shine

  That blue sky is deceptive… One of the first things I did when I arrived in Sydney was to go shopping. For warm clothes. The changeable early Spring weather reminds me a bit of home and not in a good way. After a week in the Northern Territory I have to say that day time temperatures of 12 °C come as a bit of a shock. So it took...

Tango at the Top End

  “This is number 13,” the taxi driver insisted as I stared dubiously at the building from which no light was emerging. He very kindly agreed to wait while I went to investigate. The first door I came to was locked. I went around the corner to the next door and looked inside. No dance floor, no tango music, but what seemed to be an office. Luckily there was still...