I was super lucky to make contact with some samba friends before heading to Japan. They introduced me to the inimitable Take-chan. A gentleman and a scholar. He went out of his way to recruit a small group of sambistas - dragging them away from their weekend schedule to have a random practice with me before I headed further east.
The local team is called Despertador and a few people came in from Kyoto and Kobe. We rocked an hour or so of samba and then I tried to teach these very patient people one part of afoxe. I don't think I inspired much confidence but I reckon a break from the old samba routine is good for the soul.
One of the local crew - the sharp eyed beer lover will notice - was wearing a Speight's t-shirt. Obviously a southern man at heart with damn good taste in good old fashioned, no nonsense, call a spade a spade, beer. SPADE! It turned out he met a Kiwi lass from Bluff and, unsurprisingly, they decided on Osaka as a place to settle.
The dastardly global infiltration of Wellington Batucada into the world of samba continues with the insidious conversion of Take-chan into the inner circle.
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