Hug a Redwood

I’ve always been a tree hugger. As a kid, I loved to roam the New England woods behind my house and visit my tall, silent friends: maples with their hand-shaped leaves and the ability to deliver sweet sap in the spring, oaks that turned a fiery red in autumn like the quintessential Burning Bush, black birches whose twigs tasted like toothpaste and made my mouth feel fresh and clean. There were pines with soft needles and balsam firs that made nicely scented Christmas trees when snow blanketed the ground. But none of these excursions into the eastern forests of my youth prepared me for my first sight of a California redwood.

These majestic giants grow all over the coastal mountains near my home (there’s even one here in the city, towering over my neighbor’s backyard). Redwoods stand in groves with tall, straight trunks and dense canopies clustered at the top. Wandering among them is a truly mystical experience, and there is nothing quite as mesmerizing as sunlight filtering through the high branches, misty rays slanting to the ground.

Two hundred years ago, old-growth redwoods covered two million acres of California terrain. But logging and development decimated ninety percent of these trees. We have the park service to thank for preserving the remaining stands of redwoods in national, state, and regional parks; it’s now illegal to cut down a redwood on California’s public lands.

Although we talk about redwoods as though they were all one species, there are actually two kinds. Giant sequoias (Sequoia gigantea) are the most massive living things on earth. They grow mainly in the Sierra Nevada mountains on the eastern border of the state, and the really old ones can measure as much as 30 feet in diameter.

The coastal redwoods (Sequoia sempirvirens) are the variety that thrives in the cool, foggy climate that dominates my corner of the state. These trees grow all along the Pacific coast from Oregon down to central California. Although coastal redwoods can’t match their giant cousins in girth, they boast a different world record by being the tallest living things on earth (close to 400 feet, compared to 300 feet for the giant sequoia). All redwoods have a potential life span of 3,000 years. Boggles the mind, doesn’t it?

Here are some of the best places to view California redwoods:

Yosemite National Park: One of the oldest wilderness parks in the United States, Yosemite is best known for its waterfalls, glaciers, and unique cliff formations (El Capitan and Half Dome). But Mariposa Grove at the southern end of the park has 500 mature giant sequoias.

General Sherman redwood

Sequoia National Park: Located south of Yosemite, this is the best place to see giant sequoias. Check out the Giant Forest, where you will find the world’s largest specimen, which goes by the name General Sherman. This part of the park also has easy hiking trails that wind through the redwoods for a better view.

To see some of the world’s tallest trees, you’ll have to head northwest to the Redwood National Park (which is also a World Heritage Site) in Humboldt County, near the Oregon border. The current record holder is a coastal redwood named Hyperion (379 feet tall), which unfortunately stands in an undisclosed location and is therefore not available for public viewing. During your visit to this park, you can also tour the Avenue of the Giants along Highway 101 and drive your car through a tunnel in a single redwood tree.

Muir Woods: This is my least favorite place to see redwoods, mainly because it is right across the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco, and its proximity to the city means that the paths are often crowded. But if you're planning a trip to San Francisco and don’t have time for explorations farther afield, Muir Woods will satisfy your redwood fix very nicely.

Henry Cowell State Park

So where do I go when I get a yen for a relaxing stroll under the peaceful giants? Henry Cowell State Park, located in the Santa Cruz Mountains (near Felton). This park has hiking trails, a campground, and a picnic area, but I head straight for the 1-mile loop that passes beneath some of the prettiest redwoods anywhere in California. I like to set out early in the morning when the air is still crisp and the light muted. I’ll sit on a bench under the trees, close my eyes and empty my mind until my senses fill with the piney scent of the redwood needles, the light touch of a breeze on my cheek, and the soft sounds of small animals going about their daily routines.

Stop by some day and I’ll take you there.

Off The Beaten Track: An Arctic Adventure

My nephew Steven, my then-teenagers, Eric and Minetta,
and I in our bug-protective gear preparing to load our canoes.

Dr. Lanice Jones is a Canadian family physician, world traveler, and adventurer in every sense of the word. This week, she shares another one of her many adventures with us.

“What about the Thelon, Mom?” my fifteen year-old daughter and sixteen year-old son questioned. It was mid-May 2006, and we’d been studying maps and reading books about Canada’s Arctic for months. We’d signed up for canoe lessons, bought life jackets and paddles, dry bags, and a new tent in anticipation of a family canoe trip, when suddenly my husband of thirty years ran off with another woman.

“We’re going, kids. I don’t know how, but we’re going to do it together,” I encouraged. “Dad isn’t the only one who can have adventures!”

Caribou crossing the Thelon River. 

I’d fallen in love with the Arctic at seventeen, when I’d worked my first job at a fishing camp in Canada’s North-West Territories. Ever since, I’d dreamed of exploring the Thelon River, Nunavut’s longest river, home to muskox and caribou, barren-ground grizzly and wolves, and I wasn’t going to give up that dream. We’d find a way!

I called my nephew Steve, begging him to be our fourth paddler. Meanwhile, I spent two months drying food, packing dry bags, and a food barrel. The work was therapeutic as I triple-checked meals and gear, too focused to dwell on the great rift in my heart. There would be time for grieving during the weeks on the water, where we’d be entirely alone for weeks at a time.

Our float plane taking off after leaving us
alone in the Arctic wilderness....

We were dropped off by float plane, just east of Warden’s Grove. Black flies and mosquitoes swarmed against our bug shirts, protecting us from being eaten alive as we pushed our way through thick bush to pay homage to the place where John Hornby and his young nephew died of starvation “overwintering” on the Thelon in 1927.

Our time on the water was idyllic as we paddled with the current, searching for a glimpse of muskox or caribou, or trailing a fishing line to supplement our dried food. But land was another matter. I’d spent five summers of my youth in the Arctic, and while I didn’t like the bugs, I viewed them as a necessary evil.

My vegetarian daughter caught
the biggest jackfish!

However, Steve and my kids hated the constant swarm. We’d prepare to land by tugging on our gloves, tightening down our pant legs, and zipping up our bug shirts. We’d have races to see who could get their tents up quickest, then two would prepare the dinner while two would make a cook fire. When dinner was ready, three would enter the dining tent and undertake “the kill,” swiping as many bugs as possible with a handkerchief while the last person would pass through the food and dash inside.

By early August, the wind was kicking up, blowing away the swarm but making paddling difficult. As we approached our pick-up spot, where the Thelon entered Beverly Lake, thunder clouds piled up from the North, and a howling wind tore at the canoes. My son, Eric, and I hugged the lee shore, digging in our paddles, to pull forward a few feet while the wind clawed us backward. We could see where we needed to be, but it took us an hour to paddle a few hundred feet. Meanwhile, Steven and my daughter, Minetta, had taken a different tack and ended up on the windward side of the river, fighting against breaking whitecaps as they strove to close the gap between us. I prayed silently for Steven’s strength to hold as he dug his paddle deeply against the savage water that threatened to drive him and Minetta back to the far shore. It seemed to take forever for them to cross the river, and Eric and I waded into the water to help beach their canoe against the wind.

Eric and I use a tent fly to set a sail on a downwind day.

We were holed up by the wind for four days. We explored empty wolf dens dug into the eskers, long low hills of sand left behind by the retreating glaciers. We scrambled up a pingo, a hill of frost pushed up out of the muskeg and covered with vegetation, gaining a view of the endless tundra stretching in all directions. We even built a hot rock sauna in a sheltered cove using willow branches and our tent flies, warming ourselves after a brisk dip in the river.

Finally, the wind dropped, and in the evening, two motor boats churned up the river, their wakes glistening like silver. Our canoes were tied down safe for pickup at a later date, while we tossed our gear in the fishing boats, eager to get a few miles in before the full dark. A day later, we pulled up to the shores of Baker Lake, our new Inuit friends welcoming us to their community for our last night in the Arctic.

Eric compares his hand to a huge grizzly bear print left on the shore
where we had a swim, made dinner, and quickly left again!

As we shared a simple meal, we talked about the life on the land. Our hosts listened and nodded as my kids described how they’d cooked a meal on a beach covered with grizzly paw prints larger than the prints of our own feet then left the area spotlessly clean as we packed up and canoed downstream for five kilometers to avoid any nocturnal visitors. They described how they’d learned to cook a fish using spruce bows as nature’s grill, and how Steve had taught them to use a map and compass first, before being allowed to check their position with a GPS.

I looked at my sun-burnished crew, glowing with health and the joy of living so close to the earth, and while my heart would feel bruised for years to come, I was also filled with the love and pride of my family and what we’d accomplished on our Arctic Adventure. 

Milk, Honey, Liver, and Bone Marrow

Ask any Russian grandma, hot milk and honey cures everything from a sore throat to a stomach flu to pneumonia. Some people firmly believe that milk also saves one from food poisoning or any other kind of toxic exposure. While the Western world has deemed lactose intolerance as a well-known digestive issue, the Russkis certainly didn’t get the memo.

I never liked milk because I never felt good after drinking it, but a couple of tablespoons of honey made the cup a torture. To me the two didn’t work together at all – the mixture tasted terrible, unpalatably sweet, thick, and overwhelming. But I got sick a lot during those long and cold Russian winters so I was forced to consume liters and liters of the concoction, working hard not to throw up in the process. I don’t think it bestowed any effect on me aside from gastronomical misery, but my family firmly believed in its syrupy magic. It still tasted better than another horrible folk remedy fusion – milk with a whipped raw egg. That witch’s brew was supposed to chase away your cold. And perhaps replace it with Salmonella.

I was fifteen when I had terrible laryngitis and completely lost my voice – a day before a school play in which I had a major part. In utter devastation, I tried every remedy I knew – from hot mustard patches to vodka shots. Nothing worked.

“Have you tried milk and garlic?” my friend asked on the phone. “Huh?” I wheezed back at her. “Never heard of that crap. How does it work?”

Five minutes later, I was peeling cloves and grinding them to mush. When I scored half a cup, I heat up milk, mixed the two together, and stared into the mug in sheer horror. The potion was mind-boggling and smelled disgusting. Yet my future stardom was on the line. It was worth the experiment.

I don’t know how I forced down my fantasy drink because it tasted like poison. It must’ve been one for it certainly killed a bunch of germs in my throat, and very fast too. I regained my voice in less than five minutes. It was kind of hoarse and gruff, but it was still a voice!

There were some weird health-inducing substances I liked though. My grandmother used to split chicken bones after they cooked in her soup, scoop out the bone marrow, and feed it to me. She said it produced red blood cells, so I, a skinny pale kid who looked like an anemic loser, could benefit from some. She had a similar belief about boiled liver – it raised hemoglobin, and mine was low. I didn’t mind either one, there was something appealing in both; perhaps they indeed possessed some nutrients my body needed.

My American family makes fun of my childhood-acquired tastes. To this day, I like cracking poultry bones for the dark-brown substance. And I always fork out the little juicy bit when I order Osso Buco. Foie gras and terrines remain my guilty pleasures, for which I get a fair share of nagging from my animal-loving friends. Russians still believe that chicken and goose livers clean out and “beef up” your own. Perhaps this is my excuse. Oh yeah, and the low hemoglobin too.

Warding Off The Winter Gloomies

This week’s post is rather apropos for me. For the past two weeks I’ve been feeling like death warmed up (yeah, cue the violins). I have one of those horrible winter bugs that can only be kicked with rest and healthy food. For those of you in the middle of summer, I’m sure it’s hard to imagine gray skies and rainy days, but believe me, it’s very real for those of us in the southern hemisphere right now. Rather than wallow in misery, I choose to be proactive. The Mayans, Aztecs, and Incas seemed to have it all worked out in the healthy food stakes, so here’s what I’m having for dinner tonight:

Purple Corn: It’s still grown in Peru and was once a staple of the Incas. Purple corn is now popular in other countries, including Australia (yep, I’ve spied it at the markets). Since Inca times, the Andean people have made chicha morada, a tasty drink that is known to be extremely high in anthocyanin, a molecule found in flowers, leaves, stems, fruits, and veggies. There have been many studies about how fruits and vegetables containing anthocyanin affect the human body, including the potential health effects in fighting cancer, neurological disease, inflammation, diabetes, and bacterial infections. 

Purple corn is high in antioxidants, thus making it a healthy, and very cool colored addition to any meal. Just imagine the smile on a kid’s face if you dished up some purple corn bread!

Adding purple to the plate is a nice way to start a meal, but what about some gold?

Quinoa is rich in protein, is fluffy, creamy and has a slight crunch even when cooked. Some say it has a nutty flavour. Once considered the ‘gold of the Incas’, Quinoa is related to leafy green vegetables such as spinach and Swiss chard, although most people think of Quinoa as a grain.

The tiny Quinoa grains supply a complete protein, meaning it has all the nine essential amino acids. It’s the perfect choice for vegans concerned about adequate protein intake. Quinoa also contains the amino acid lysine, which helps in tissue growth and repair. Magnesium, iron, copper, and phosphorus are included in Quinoa, and many people swear eating this grain on a regular basis helps with migraine headaches, diabetes, menopause, and hardening of the arteries.

Photo by Shizhao

Just to add one more ingredient to my healthy dinner, I’m going for the Chia seed. Originally from Mexico, this seed is high in Omega-3 acids and contains fibre, calcium, iron, and magnesium. They’re easy to store, you can snack on them without having to go to great lengths to prepare them, and they’re easy to digest. The best thing about the Chia seed is once it’s ground, it can be mixed in with flour to make bread, cakes, and biscuits. Mmmm... blueberry muffins, anyone? The versatility of the Chia seed goes on. Once soaked, the seeds can be used in puddings and porridge, and to make the Mexican drink, chia fresca.

Originally used by the Mayans, the chilli seed has been found to help with cold and flu symptoms. Guess what’s being sprinkled on my dinner tonight?

So while I’m lolling about on the sofa, trying not to feel too wretched, I’ll look to the Mexicans once again, who know how to use their food to heal. I might just make a nice cinnamon tea to help with the nausea, and if I felt well enough to get drunk and have a hangover, then I’d make a nice, strong spearmint tea with nutmeg, cloves, and cinnamon to help with that headache. 

And for those enjoying sunny days and in need of a refreshing drink, why not try this recipe for Chicha Morada?

1 gallon (3.5 liters) of water

1 15 ounce package of dried purple corn (maiz morado)

2 cinnamon sticks

1 tbsp whole cloves

The juice of 5 large lemons

1 ½ cups of brown sugar

½ cup fresh pineapple, cubed (small)

½ apple cubed (small)

Add the corn, cinnamon sticks, and cloves to the water and bring to boil. Reduce the heat and simmer for 45 minutes. Remove from the stove and strain the contents of the pot to remove the corn and spices. Stir in the lemon juice and sugar, and refrigerate until cold. Just before you’re ready to serve, add the chopped pineapple and apple before pouring into glasses filled with ice. Yummo!

Garlic In My Socks

One winter many years ago, I took a job at a Benedictine monastery atop a windswept mountain in Vermont. Deep into this frozen season, I battled a cold that wouldn’t quit and one afternoon dragged myself into the monastery kitchen in search of a hot drink to soothe my raw throat. There, I encountered one of the monks, who took in the sorry sight of my red nose and bleary eyes. On hearing me croak out a miserable “hello,” he offered this bit of medical advice: “Put garlic in your socks.”

I opted for a hot lemonade with honey, an old family remedy. To this day, I don’t know if the monk was serious or only pulling my leg with his garlic-in-the-socks remedy, but I never waste an opportunity to pass on his advice. It’s usually good for lightening the mood when the other person is feeling like death warmed over.

Although no one in my family ever used garlic to cure a cold, an illness had to be pretty serious before we would resort to drugs. With the exception of aspirin, over-the-counter-medicine was a rare sight in my childhood home. We had hot lemonade with honey for sore throats and mint tea for stomachaches.

We were not the only ones to rely on traditional remedies. The small Vermont town where I grew up was populated with rugged farm folk who swore that the only way to survive the near-tropical summer heat was to swig copious amounts of a vile home-made brew called switsel. This concoction consisted of cider vinegar diluted with water and rendered almost, but not quite, palatable with maple syrup.

Later, when I got married, my new Iranian family had their own medicine chest (or pantry, if you will), full of home remedies. I learned entirely new “prescriptions,” like yogurt and honey for insomnia or nabat (saffron-flavored rock candy) dissolved in hot water (or tea) with a splash of arak-e nana (distilled essence of mint) for nausea.

One of my mother-in-law’s favorite remedies is a tiny yellowish brown seed called khak-e shir. She uses it to cure two birds with one stone, so to speak. Steeped in cold water, khak-e shir will treat a bout of diarrhea. Brew it in hot water and it’s a cure for constipation.

Over time, I discovered that my Iranian family and friends take the whole idea of food as medicine a giant step beyond anything I could have imagined. In Persian tradition, all foods are assigned to one of two categories: sardi (cold) and garmi (hot). This has nothing to do with temperature, but refers to the type of energy contained in the food. The idea is that a proper balance between “heating” and “cooling” foods is necessary for good health.

To complicate matters, according to this Persian philosophy, people also have these same energies, with some of us being more sardi and others more garmi. So if you’re a person with an abundance of warm energy, eating a lot of garmi foods could make you sick, or at least give you serious discomfort, such as a stomachache or heartburn. (Think of that huge chocolate fudge sundae [garmi] that made you just a bit nauseous.) Seasons can aggravate the situation, which means that eating too much garmi food in warm weather or too much sardi food when it’s cold and damp can make you feel unwell.

This philosophy goes back thousands of years to Zoroastrian times in ancient Persia, although some historians say it is based on ancient Greek medical texts. Traditional Chinese medicine, with its yin and yang, and India’s Ayurvedic practices have similar beliefs, so who knows where the idea originated.

Whether garmi/sardi began in Greece, China, India, or Persia, the 10^th-century Persian physician Abu Ali Sina (known in the West as Avicenna) was one of the first to compile a complete list of “cold” and “hot” foods. Avicenna wrote over 100 medical treatises, including his most famous compendium, the Canon of Medicine, and Iranians revere him as the “father of modern medicine.”

While I struggle to remember which foods are heating and which are cooling, my mother-in-law can rattle them off as easily as one of her favorite recipes. What helps is to remember that garmi foods are on the sweet end of the taste spectrum (peaches, cream, chicken, and eggplant), while sardi foods tend toward sour and bitter tastes and are also harder to digest (vinegar, beef, beans, kale, and hard cheeses).

All of which makes me reconsider my take on switsel. Since vinegar is cooling and Vermont summers can be sweltering, maybe there is some truth in the old-timers’ claim that their favorite summer beverage makes the heat more bearable.

As for garlic in my socks, I’m still not sold on that one. Garlic is garmi, but I can’t see how putting anything in my socks will keep me from sneezing.

An Award!

We have an extra post this week, thanks to one of our faithful readers, Orlando Ramos, who has awarded us with the Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award. Orlando writes a fabulous and entertaining blog and is very good at demystifying grammar. 

As part of the award, we get to share 7 random facts about ourselves and nominate 15 blogs that inspire us. What fun!

Here we go!

7 random facts about Alli:
* I am obsessive compulsive when it comes to researching—be it for my novels or buying a pair of shoes
* I once spent time in a Bolivian prison (on an unofficial “tour” before they got nixed by authorities)
* If I’m writing and really into a scene, I often close my eyes and type so I can immerse myself in that moment
* My (now) husband and I were best friends for 17 years before we started dating (think When Harry met Sally meets Melrose Place)
* For the last 20 odd years I have tried to be out of the town I’m living in for my birthday
* The only sport I’m half decent at is field hockey
* I am very accident prone and have no idea how many times I’ve been on crutches. I put this down to my head space being everywhere than where it should be ie watching where I’m walking

Heidi's 7 random facts:
* I used to read a book in a day. Now it takes me closer to a month.
* When I visited the Swiss village where my grandfather was born, I discovered that our family has lived there continuously for over a thousand years. That kind of permanency still blows my mind.
* I used to play fetch in the park with a 3-legged dog. I got tired before she did.
* I once spent an afternoon with female dervishes in a house in Western Iran.
* I drink coffee in the morning and tea in the afternoon. Except when I need an energy boost, in which case only Turkish coffee will do the trick.
* My favorite color is the blue of the tile on an Isfahani mosque.
* Sometimes I dream in Farsi.

7 random facts about Lina
* I am a proud workaholic and caffeine addict. 
* I’ve never taken an IQ test because I’m convinced my score will be in the negatives.
* When I was 12, a rare orthopedic disorder left me bedridden for three years so I used to read 2-3 books a day to live in a different reality.
* I am a masochist: I am mortally, incurably, and desperately afraid of flying, but I fly all the time.
* My not-so-distant relative, Yakov Zeldovich, was a world-famous physicist with awards and medals in nuclear physics, astrophysics and black hole thermodynamics. My father was a physicist too and hoped to pass the torch onto me. I am the family’s black sheep who can’t add even with a calculator.
* The most incredible mind-boggling thing I ever discovered was the feeling of bioenergy between my palms.
* My son thinks I’m the coolest mom ever because I curse like a sailor.


7 random facts about Supriya
1. I’m a city girl stuck in the burbs.
2. I can’t cook for beans. I mean, I try each and every day but, inspite of owning every cookbook on the planet, it’s still uphill.
3. My husband thinks my treadmill is, ahem, gaining weight. (See fact 2.)
4. I’m big enough to say it (see fact 3): I miss Oprah.
5. I won Girl Scout Leader of the Year award last month. This feels both random and kind of ironic.
6. I love Indian music but seriously can’t understand a lick of it.
7. I’m addicted to buying books. I’m considering one of those 12 step thingees. (I’ve heard the reading material is free.)

Here is our list of people we would like to receive the Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award:

http://drunkwritertalk.blogspot.com/ This bunch of gals are not only funny, they have wonderful insights into storytelling and writing.

http://thebookshelfmuse.blogspot.com/ This blog is not only informative, it has saved many a writer’s life with its fabulous thesauruses on emotion, setting, and character traits.

http://blog.garycorby.com/ Not only is Gary Corby smart, he is a brilliant writer. His knowledge of ancient Greece is astounding.

http://www.gargoylegirl.com/ Photos of an unusual subject. Gigi Pandian finds gargoyles in the most unexpected places.

http://turmericsaffron.blogspot.com/ Once a week, Azita combines mouth-watering recipes and photos with stories from her childhood growing up in Iran.

http://goatmilkblog.com/ One of the best places for news and ideas about the Middle East.

http://detectivesbeyondborders.blogspot.com/ An excellent blog for discussions of international crime fiction.

http://thrillskillsnchills.blogspot.com/ This blog publishes awesome mystery, noir, and general mayhem stories. 

http://murderiseverywhere.blogspot.com/ These seven excellent mystery novelists set their books in all corners of the globe – from Africa to Iceland to Brazil and beyond. And their blog is beyond fabulous. Smart and entertaining.

http://radvazblog.com/ This hilarious NY comedian/actress is the person we'd most likely to go drinking with (but beg her not to blog about afterwards). She's going to hate being called "sweet" -- "tart" might be a better description. Still, we ♥ her.

http://awanderingtale.com/ Our friend at A Wandering Tale is phenomenal. A world traveler first and foremost, she's also a Peace Corps volunteer, an environmental activist, and just a darn good writer. Read about her travels through some of the world's most fascinating places.

http://italianintrigues.blogspot.com/ Patricia Winton, an expat living in Rome, writes Italian food mysteries. Her blog covers all things Italian, including recipes and food history.

http://internationalnoir.blogspot.com/ If you like to travel but don't have the time or money, check out this book review site. Glenn Harper reviews interesting and unusual mystery books set in every corner of the globe. These aren't necessarily bestsellers (though there are some of those too), but some really interesting books that will open your mind up to new worlds.

http://zoeferraris.blogspot.com/ The author of Finding Nouf writes about politics, the news, culture, and really, so much fun stuff, you'll have trouble pulling yourself away.


http://blog.liviablackburne.com/ She had us at the title. A Brain Scientist’s Take on Writing is just fascinating. Period.


Enjoy!

If you’re one of the ones on our list, here’s how to pay it forward with the award:
1) Thank and link to the person that nominated you.
2) Share 7 random facts about yourself.
3) Pass the award to 15 of your blogging buddies.
4) Notify the recipients.

Off the Beaten Track: Sean McGee

This week, we welcome Sean McGee a professional musician and composer. He now specialises in tango music, a stark contrast to his early days as a long-haired, heavy metal band member. Sean’s music can be found at http://www.seanmcgeemusic.com.

I am a musician. As a composer, I have worked for independent film and TV projects and until a short time ago, I was also the long-haired 'Extreme Metal' lead guitarist with a successful British band, Thirteenth Sign.

A few years ago, I decided to switch on the BBC's TV show Strictly Come Dancing. It just so happened that the show that night featured an Argentine Tango demonstration by Vincent Simone & Flavia Cacace.

Wow! I was mesmerised. The dancers... The music...

I was so excited by the sheer connection of soul and heart that tango could bring, I questioned my whole involvement and reasons for working within the heavy-metal scene. There was a real honesty and beauty in the music and dance that I didn't get when I played heavy metal every week.

And as I'd already worked with film I understood how a connection with music and emotion worked.
Dance was a new and exciting world to me, and I wanted in.

So I quit the band!

I managed to track down a local Argentine Tango class, and myself and my fiancée, Linzi, tripped along as soon as we could. From the very first bar of music and basic steps, we were hooked.

I was drawn to this exciting music, especially the Electro Tango. I’ve since become a big fan of bands such as Gotan Project, Baja Fondo, and Tanghetto. That was nearly two years ago, and we’re still continuing regular classes and milongas (tango dances) and are now taking International Dance Teachers Association medals.

But this is only the beginning of my story...

In February last year, I booked tickets to see my dance idols, Vincent and Flavia, in a local show at St Ives, Cambridgeshire. I was fortunate enough to have a brief word with them after the show. I was feeling cheeky, so I asked them if anyone had ever written music specifically for them. I’d been toying with the idea of writing original music alongside new choreography, and I was keen to gauge their interest.

They were very interested, but because they were so tied up with Strictly Come Dancing, they suggested I contact them in the not-so-distant future. When Flavia asked me, “Where were you three years ago?” I was floored and a little disappointed. They’d been looking for someone to write music for them but couldn’t find anyone that suited. Yet here I was, desperate to work with them. Flavia’s question inspired me to write my first Electro Tango track, “Three Years Too Late”.

Flavia, Sean and Vincent

I took the tune to my dance class, and we all danced through it together. I was surprised with the sheer excitement from the whole class and my dance instructors. People kept coming up to me and saying, "You must do an album!" I knew they were right, but I needed to raise funds. So I sold some of my heavy metal band equipment, and I invested in some new equipment that would allow me to produce the best Electro Tango album I could. I wrote solidly for four months, and by the summer of 2010, I’d completed the album. Nebulosa was born!

I contacted Vincent and Flavia when I started on the artwork for the album. After all, they’d been my inspiration, and I was hoping they might give me a brief testimonial for the cover. Several weeks passed without word, then the Thursday before I was due to send the album off for pressing, I got the email that changed my life—Vincent and Flavia absolutely loved my music!

Heavy metal days

In fact, they loved it so much, they wanted to join forces with me and appear on my album cover. They wanted to sell it through their website and market the CD in the media with their blessing. I couldn’t believe that my idols believed in me and loved my work!

The CD, Nebulosa, was released in September last year, and by Christmas sales had covered all the production costs. We’ve sold many copies in the U.K., as well as to the USA and Australia. Word got around, and I received an invitation to perform with a band at the London River Tango Festival. The local BBC stations, as well as independent radio stations and national press, have all run features on Nebulosa, and the interest continues to grow.

I’m in the process of writing the “difficult” second album, but I have to say, the tango is still flowing through my veins. Flavia named the first completed track Pensiero (Italian for thought), and I’m currently looking for a record company to work with. I plan to complete the new album and put together a line up of top musicians to take the “UK Electro Tango” on the road.

Sean and Flavia

My time as a heavy-metal musician feels like a lifetime ago, and my journey as a tango dancer and musician is only just beginning. I can’t wait to see what’s around the corner.

My facebook is: http://www.facebook.com/seanamcgee

My Twitter is: @SeanAMcGee

Vincent & Flavia website: http://www.vincentandflavia.co.uk

Strictly Come Dancing website: http://www.bbc.co.uk/strictlycomedancing/

Thirteenth Sign website: http://www.thirteenthsign.co.uk

The BBC website also ran this story on me: http://news.bbc.co.uk/local/norfolk/hi/tv_and_radio/newsid_9020000/9020652.stm