We couldn't resist the funniest Flamenco EVER!

On one of our morning trips to the Mercado, we saw this intriguing sign and theatre.  We couldn't resist.  

When we arrived the market was closed but as we walked by the closed stalls, we saw a large box like structure being wheeled out by a plump, jocular guy.  He set it down unfolded it and unbelievably somehow slid himself inside.  The evening had begun!

We showed him our phone booking and he beamed. Then very carefully wrote seat numbers onto our tickets before rolling them carefully into a cone.  (Everything here is packaged beautifully in paper and yes, usually in a cone).  We sat on a bench watching audience members arrive but confident smiles were quickly replaced with looks of bewilderment. The wall behind us vibrated with the thunder of flamenco shoes punctuated by the sound of someone wailing. 'What had we let ourselves in for?' 

Time ticked by.  Every now and then the ticket seller would open the door behind us and peer inside releasing a wave of sound.  Finally, he smiled and carefully ushered us into one of the smallest theatres I've ever seen. 

There were about twenty people in all.  When we were seated, a hand reached out from behind the curtain and pulled a string to reveal two chairs.  We waited until we saw and heard the stage door open onto the tiny stage.  An embarrassed looking guitarist bowed his way to a chair and started to play.  He was terrific!

When he had finished he bowed again, looked around him and waited. Nothing happened.  He leaned over to the stage door and knocked loudly before turning back to us and shrugging!  He looked as amused and bewildered as the rest of us!

A small, tubby man in black suit, gold necklaces, flashing rings strode the centre of the stage, nodded to the guitarist and then began to sing.  No wait, that should be WAILED!  Tears poured from his eyes and sweat from his brow.  Eventually, it ended.  The guitarist was a relieved as we were!

We were jolted awake as castanets exploded like fireworks and the rhythmic thunder of feet announced the Flamenco dancer.  She burst onto the stage,  froze and fixed the singer with sultry eyes. The guitarist watched with an amused look as the singer wailed once more.  The cycle of sultry looks, staccato of castanets, feet and the wailing singer continued a metre away from our front row seats.

It was an unforgettable evening.  We loved it!