On the Rewards of Rigor

So, to reward a couple of us yoga teacher training participants for staying alive through the first two weeks of the program, one of our administrators, Kaz, takes us to Kasbah on Friday night to watch a live performance by local guitar virtuoso Noli Aurelio.

I know the evening is off to a fine start when we discover that the two best couches in the house—located in the vicinity of Mr Aurelio’s toes—have been reserved just for us. Then, while we gently anesthesize our various aches and pains with a round of mojitos and a shisha, Mr Aurelio stuns our tranquilized senses back to urban-adrenaline mode with what I will inadequately describe as a brilliant, frantic and occasionally bizarre display of guitar-playing skill.

Musical prodigy is only part of Mr Aurelio’s charm. A considerable portion of it, I must say, derives from his legs—possibly two of the best-looking on the island: outrageously smooth and regularly displayed in his signature denim cut-offs. (Having said that, I must still concede to feeling grateful for having sat on the more distal side of the couch from the stage. One can end up being far too intimate with a guitarist’s toes and legs.)

At the end of it, we take a final drag on the cooling shisha and a shoot a mournful look at our empty glasses before peeling ourselves off the couches and shuffling our sandy feet home.  We’ve survived two weeks already—but there’s another two to go.


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