I’m still floating on the perfect wave that kept me riding high for the entire weekend.

My Monday, today, seems far away. All of me is still there, on that floor, in that hotel, at the pool’s edge, on the lawn, in the embraces tied round me…

I have experienced my first perfect marathon. The wave that you expect for months, the one you feel in the air but never reach.

The fantastic 4 Mascalzoni Latini have really exaggerated this time. Not even Enzino, the savviest Italian wedding planner, could not have done better.

As much as I try I cannot find a flaw, a blemish, an imperfection.

I have seen 300 people crazy with joy, full of energy, sweaty and smiling, dance together, swim, laugh, throw themselves in the pool,  do a yoga session, scoff tons of bananas, drink litres of coffee, make friends.

In a space created for the wellbeing of each single one of us where, besides dancing the tango, if  you wanted to, you could find the precious solitude of the garden or go for the noisy playfulness of the pool.

I danced for hours, without realizing it, because I slid from tanda to tanda, held by hand by fabulous tj sets, with the energy of the afternoon and the long wave of the night.

I saw the sun rise within an embrace, realising that the music had led everybody into the making of the new day as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I think that the intense meaning of a tango marathon is exactly this: the fusion of the body, of the mind, of the senses, of the skin, in the fourth dimension, where you can enter only if somebody who knows takes you there.

Only someone who has lived hundreds of these events knows the secret ingredient that makes the atmosphere of the marathon unique, his or her marathon,  an unforgettable moment.

And I am sure that a Latina like this one will be difficult to equal!

Pimpra