05 July

Got up – sent a package home.  Some very very small souvenirs home.  A lucky few will get tiny souvenirs from my trips.  As small as they were, it was still a relief to get them out of the backpack.  Anyway – spent ages getting the postage thing sorted.  Cost me twice as much in postage as the value of the contents.  Had one last (I thought) brasilian churrascaria for lunch.  Then – convinced a very drunk man that I didn´t want him to give me a ride across the border, and that the bus was fine.  Took a long time.  Then – caught the bus.  Bus went to the border, and kept going.  We got on the bridge between Brasil & Paraguay, and I realised that this was another border where migration formalities aren´t so formal.  Got off the bus in Paraguay, walked back past Paraguay migration, across the bridge – and ´checked out´of Brasil.  Back across bridge to Paraguay migration.  Remembered, well – was reminded, that I need a visa.  Walked back, and re-entered Brasil.  According to my passport – for the fifth time.

So – back to Foz Do Iguacu.  Back to the hostel – where there was a pair of scandinavian girls giving each other back-rubs.  Ignored this.  Chose a different bed, and then walked up and down the street which was supposed to contain the Paraguayan consulate.  Didn´t see anything.  Was evening by now, so bought some dodgy DVDs off the street, and some beer, and returned to hostel.

06 July - asked hostel owner where the consulate was, and actually took notice of the number of the address in the guide book.  Her thoughts and the guide book matched.  Reality did not.  Asked dairy owner (who didn´t even flinch at my portuguese/spanish – sweet) – and he reckoned two blocks up, then two blocks to the right.  Not too sure how much to trust a brasilian with numbers – but he turned out to be nearly spot-on.  Girl at consulate gave me list of requirements.  Involving photocopies of tickets into and out of Paraguay.  Tried to convince her that seeing as I could, and would, walk across a bridge there – I didn´t have or need tickets.  Wasn´t convinced.  So – found photocopy place, copied my credit card, and two copies of the ´ticket´stub given to me by bus driver yesterday.  Quite pleased with my cheek, I was.  But – girl was not.  Tried to convince me to go buy a prepaid taxi chit from down the road, and when I hesitated for a while (just trying to confirm exactly what I needed), called somebody with a bit more initiative.  Who must have told her to chill out, and it was all good.  Then – waited for an hour or so, chatting to another consulate worker about the All Blacks.  And was then asked for US$50.  Had to be US$.  The seppos have got a lot to answer for.  So – left, went back to hostel, and got my backup funds which are US$.  Back to consulate.  Person who can stamp the visa to make it official is at lunch.  For two hours.  So I go to lunch.  Expensive seafood restaurant.  Order white wine and alligator stew.  Out of alligator, they reckon.  Dumb – I was looking forward to that.  Have boring crab stew instead.  Eventually, back to consulate, and get my passport with visa.  After a long day, I buy more dodgy DVDs, a bottle of wine, and some beers.  Spend evening utilising them, and chatting to the scandinavian girls (turn out to be danish), and a norwegian couple.

07 July - walk to bus station, and have a beer at street side stall.  Catch a bus, and this time get off before Brasil migration.  Get stamped out, and walk across bridge.  This time, Paraguay lets me in.  But, my visa – for which I had asked two weeks – seems to be ten days.  Oh well – it doesn´t sound like there´s much to do here anyway.  Except for enjoying the lack of tourists – due to lack of stuff to do.  To the point where, apparently, when I head north to Bolivia – my ´mere presence will arouse suspicion´from the military.  Sweet.

But – back from the future.  Ciudad Del Este… walked up from the border bridge, past continuous dodgy electronic stalls.  ´The Supermarket Of South America´, they reckon it´s called.  And seeing the huge lines of people on the Brasilian side waiting to go through customs with larg bags full of electronics, blankets, and everything else – yeah.  But, I´ve left my consumerism behind – so strolled past, stopping briefly to change my Reais into Guaranis off an old man sitting on the sidewalk.  Then – kept walking, until I found a small cafe/bar.  Stopped for a beer, and to check the guidebook, and figure out what I was actually going to do.  Discovered I´d been walking away from accommodation, and towards the bus station.  Using my normal method of decision making – I figured I might as well continue on this path.  So – kept walking, past a park with a statue of some Chinese president, as well as a chinese junk make of concrete in a dry pond.  Probably just as well the pond was dry, I guess.  Also, next to this park, a sports ground.  With a scrum machine.  And rugby posts.  I´m sure the young kids loitering there weren´t too sure as to why I would take a photo of an empty sportsfield.  Continued on, and found bus station, and took first hawkers offer of a bus to Asuncion.  I got a seat number (not the seat next to remarkably attractive girl which I originally took, (by the way – I took the seat before she was there) but another).  Then, after bus was full, people kept getting on board.  About a dozen people standing in the aisle for most of the 5 hour trip.  I think Paraguay is going to be a nice gentle introduction to such things before getting to Ecuador & Peru.  Got to Asuncion in the middle of a thunderstorm.  Paid the money for a taxi to a pousada, and then went out for food and beer.  Bad food, adequate beer.

08 July – Woken by more thunder.  Went for a walk… Asuncion supposed to be fairly nice just because of the parks and trees and such.  First park I find is filled with makeshift tents.  Protest or homeless, I´m not sure.  Walk on to Plaza Indepencia.  Home of the Pantheon de Los Heroes.  A monument towards heroes.  Outside – sure, nice.  Inside – pretty cool.  Big churchy bit, bit of a shame, but a pit in the middle with the coffins and urns of several Paraguayan historical figures – as well as two ´Unknown Soldiers´ – one a child I believe.  Also, heaps of plaques.  Either for or from heaps of people/groups.  Including the Lions Club of Leblon, Rio de Janeiro.  And the President of Taiwan.  Odd.  I happened to see the changing of the guard, which was rather simple and to the point.  Also – being a Sunday – they then held a church service inside.  I didn´t stick around.  However, being a Sunday, there was absolutely nothing else to do.  Everything closed.  These south americans still cling to that quaint old thing ´family values´- especially on Sundays.  Still raining rather heavily, so I found an open bar with red wine.  Then, checked out the Governers Mansion.  Apparently, at some point, the law was that anybody caught looking at it would be ´shot in the act´.  So I was a little worried when a soldier started yelling at me – but he just wanted me to get off the big bit of grass out the front.

Oh – and did I mention that the flag of Paraguay is slightly different on each side?  The only such national flag IN THE WORLD!  Also, by some reports, Paraguay is supposed to be the cheapest country IN THE WORLD!  And now, back across the road to one of the few bars open in town, to see if I´m too late to watch the end of Paraguay getting thrashed by Mexico.  If I ever lower myself enough to buy a soccer shirt – it´s going to be Paraguay.  I had actually decided on the bus to get one, then figured that rugby seems to be more popular here than I thought, and maybe I´ll spend tomorrow trying to get a Paraguayan national rugby team shirt.

But first – Puerto Iguazu.  Got there, as I said previously.  First day – walked around town, and checked out the Tres Fronteiras.  Pretty much the border of three countries – Argentina, Brasil & Paraguay – river borders though, so no jumping over lines singing the name of each country.  Each has got an obelisk in appropriate colours.  Fair enough.  HOWEVER – the perfect oppurtunity/excuse for a giant flag – gone begging.  I can’t describe how much I love giant flags.  And this place would be perfect for a “Flags Race” (ie: along lines of an arms race.  But with flags.  Need it spelt out any more?)

But – just boring normal size flags.  I actually fumed about it for the rest of the day.  After this though – did go to visit something they’ve done in giant.  A trap.  They took a traditional animal trap, and made a giant one.  Not sure why.  But it’s big.  Nowhere near as cool as a giant flag though.

Next day, I think (sense of time well and truly gone by now), went to visit Iguazu Falls.  Caught a bus there, with my pack (intending to head on to Brasil that evening).  Stowed my pack at their luggage storage.  Went into the national park.  First couple of lookout points – “ho hum, nice waterfall, but….”.   Then – I don’t really know how to describe it without calling upon profanity or referring to religious characters.  Best waterfalls IN THE WORLD!  Spectacular, beautiful, utterly amazing.  And this was the first trail, chosen by myself to do first as it builds tension – before the other two trails which get better and better.  Cool.  Pretty much a canyon full of waterfalls.  I believe there are 275 waterfalls in total comprising Iguazu Falls, and it is just beautiful seeing this one part of it which must have 200 of them lined up next to each other.

Then – the lower trail, pretty much seeing the same thing, but from below.  Including getting up rather close to one of the more powerful ones.  And, a boat trip – which takes you very very close to two of the more powerful ones – which involves getting drenched (waterproof bags provided to put your cameras in – literally drenched).  Anyway, plenty more awesome views.  Probably lots which are rather similar, but each time I came to a lookout, completely awestruck all over again.  So – apologies for the number of photos, especially as I doubt they really convey the actual impression (definitely not, seeing as it was impossible to ever get an entire view into a single shot – hence several movie clips).

Anyway, before I start gushing (like I do whenever the Great Wall is brought up – yeah Ben – it is about that good), moved onto what is supposed to be the highlight.  A catwalk which takes you right to the brink of the Gargantun de Diablo / Devil’s Throat.  The biggest/most-powerful of the lot, I believe.  Yeah – pretty cool.  But solely from the raw power of the thing.  I think I actually prefer the beauty of seeing a couple hundred waterfalls lined up side by side, with a couple of them powerful enough to throw up spray and what-not.  This one – just a huge beast, with so much spray being thrown up you couldn’t see more than ten metres down from the top.  Still – would have loved to stay there and just sit and watch for a while, but couldn’t remember what time the luggage storage place at the front desk closed.  So – stayed for a decent amount of time, then hurried back.  Got my pack, discovered there weren’t any buses onwards to Brasil – so had to return to Puerto Iguazu.

Got a bus from there to Foz do Iguacu, Brasil.  Bus stops at Argy migration.  Everybody gets off, goes through.  Sweet.  Driver asks me if I want to go through Brasilian immigration.  I figure I probably should.  Bus stops, I get off.  Driver hands me a ticket, and tells me to take my luggage.  Then – drives off.  Hmmmm.  Find the migration office, get stamped in, etc.  Then figure out the ticket the driver gave me is a “re-embarque” ticket.  Ah – sweet, must be able to use it to get on next bus.  Two hours later, very hungry, cold, & tired – I finally ask a customs guy if he knows when next bus will be.  Apparently, no more buses.  I was on the last one.  Sweet.  Ask him how far away the city is.  He reckons 5 km.  He’s Brasilian – so 5 could mean anywhere from 2 through 25.  I start walking anyway.  Find an expensive looking hotel – with taxi stand outside.  Sweet – catch taxi to hostel.  Rather happy to drop off stuff, and go to a churrascaria for R$10.  (All you can eat brasilian meats for about NZ$7)

Then – Sunday, town dead.  I’d planned on doing laundry and relaxing.  Can’t do laundry – because no laundry place open.  Nothing open.  Nada.  So – watch bad movies, download the NZ/Aus rugby game, and upload photos.  Then – watch rugby, and go to bed angry.

Monday – do laundry.  Sweet.  Walk around town, and that’s about it.  Buy some dodgy DVDs off a guy on the street, and watch more bad movies while having a few cervejas.

Tuesday – get up and do stuff.  Caught bus to the brasilian version of Iguassu Falls.  Walked along a trail, which had some pretty sweet views of all the waterfalls side by side.  From a distance, you could kind of see the whole effect a little more, but not so much as I’d been led to expect.  Then, what they seem to think is the main attraction – another catwalk to Gargantun do Diablo.  This time – kind of in front of the side of the waterfall.  argy catwalk went right to edge of the very top of the fall, this one was kind of set on a ledge a short distance from the top.  And around the corner from the main “Throat”.  Got soaked walking on it from all the spray.  Kinda cool, but I’m not sure why they don’t promote the trail I walked on first a lot more.  It was portrayed as an optional walk for those who like that sort of thing – but to my mind was the highlight of the brasilian side.

Oh well.  By this stage was hungry.  Choice of two joints that looked incredibly like mcdonalds, just without the piss-yellow arches.  Instead, paid for an overpriced buffet.  Pretty good buffet though.  Avacado salad.  With strawberries, and when they replaced it – kiwifruit.  Also – I got myself a caipirinha made with kiwifruit instead of limes.  And figured out the place of wasps in the ecosystem.  They are here to punish those who drink cocacola.  I took great pleasure in sitting at my table, with one or two wasps to keep me company (one I made friends with by fishing him out of my caipirinha.  I actually thought he was dead, but after he sobered up, the little fella spent the next half an hour cleaning himself up, and eventually flew away) – while at every single table with a can of cocacola on it, the people spent their entire time shooing away hordes of wasps.  Sweet.

Got back to hostel, and chatted with english couple I’d met at breakfast.  I think they skipped the trail, but I didn’t rub their noses in what they’d missed.  They were going to the argy side the following day – so that will more than make up for it.  Their expectations may have been lowered as well – so they’re in for a treat.  Also – they’d been given a voucher for 20% off at a churrascaria.  Advertising itself as a gathering point for foreigners.  Which raised my suspicions immediately.  But – they were all set for it, and I was lonely, so I joined them.  Got there – rather nice looking place.  But, we still didn’t ask how much it was.  20% off – can’t go wrong, right?  Salad bar was rather good.  Broccoli!  Hadn’t seen broccoli since NZ.  Not a big fan of the stuff usually, but actually had spent the last week thinking about it.  Mostly because my intake of vegetables has solely consisted of as much lettuce as I can stomach alongside my all-you-can-eat delivered-constantly-to-the-table delicious meat.  Anyway – as you have probably guessed, bill came, and it was rather large.  R$42 each for the food.  None of us too happy, and again I held my tongue about my usual haunt being rather similar for only R$10, and the beer also being about a quarter of the price.  ‘Cause I’m a nice guy.  We coughed up, and went back to the hostel to stew.  I bought some cervejas, and we watched a brasilian game show (trying to answer the questions, despite not understanding the host – surprisingly successfully at times), and played some cards.  Then – off to bed.  I broke mine getting into it.  Lifted up mattress to see what I’d done, and laughed.  Really rather surprising it hadn’t broken beforehand – and after I fixed it, I wasn’t too happy about getting onto it again.  But – after a few cervejas, and rather tired – I dared it.  I should get a photo of the ‘mechanism’ which is holding the mattress up – it is beautiful.

Anyway – got up this morning, and fixed my bed again.  Had breakfast, and a new guest arrived – to stay in same dorm as me.  Breaking the bed again, which is inevitable, is going to be rather embarrassing this time.  Oh well.  After breakfast, got some more cash out (was cleaned out by restaurant last night) – and caught a bus to Itaipu Dam.  The biggest IN THE WORLD, they reckon.  I was going in order to tell them they were wrong.  “I’ve seen, and trespassed on, the biggest dam IN THE WORLD.” I was planning to say.  But – then my bus stopped, and I was told it was the end of the line.  No dam in sight.  If it’s that big, I should be able to see it pretty easily, was my thought.  But, thought I’d have a little hunt-around for it.  Got off the bus, and found myself in a dirt street.  Luckily the houses looked to be relatively well-to-do (for some reason my paranoia of thieves, which mostly disappeared as soon as entering Uruguay, returned immediately on returning to Brasil).  Anyway – started walking.  Found the main road, and followed it.  Found the dam’s visitor centre.  Still no dam in sight, which increased the amount of scorn I was preparing for it.  Discovered that the only way to see the dam was at certain times.  So – sat around for 50 minutes before the next one.  Finally – bought my ticket.  Entered – ushered into an auditorium.  Watched a movie clip.  A twenty minute long advertisement.  It actually nearly convinced me that a giant construction, with enough concrete to build 210 Maracana stadiums, enough iron&steel to build 350 or so Eiffel towers, moved more earth than the Suger Loaf, and displaced 1 (or 4?) million people – was going to save the world.  Interactive display earlier had reassured me that even when the Three Gorges was finished, Itaipu will still be the biggest dam in the world in the one stat that really matters – power production.  However, it also showed me side by side statistics regarding this, and other stuff.  Three Gorges could squash Itaipu.  So – after the videos of kids playing in fountains and people jet-skiing and what-not (they even tried to make giant power-pylons look beautiful) – I got on a bus to go see this SECOND biggest hydro-dam IN THE WORLD!  Another spiel via voice recording on the bus, mostly same old numbers.  210 Maracanas, blah Eiffel blah, etc etc.  We get to a spot with a pretty sweet view of the spillway.  Pretty big.  Bus keeps driving.  Gets to one lookout spot, and we can get out for photos.  (Voice recording had reassured us we’re allowed to take photos of anything we like.)  Yeah – pretty big dam.  I guess.  But pretty crap view of it.  Would have been better view from the bus earlier – but aisle seat in a crowded bus is not so good for photo oppurtunities.  After not long – summoned back to buses.  Keep driving.  Along bottom of dam.  Would have been some decent photos for the engineering nerds.  Then – along the top of it.  Would have been some decent photos from one end – to show the full extent of it.  But – bus keeps going.  And going – back to the visitor centre.  But, I guess, when you’re the SECOND biggest dam IN THE WORLD, you don’t want people to hang around for too long to notice how little you really are.  Most of it’s made with rocks and dirt anyway.  Not Three Gorges – pure concrete baby.  Interactive display told me.

So – that’s been Puerto Iguazu, Iguazu Falls, Foz Do Iguacu, Iguassu Falls, and little old Itaipu.  Tomorrow, hopefully, Paraguay.  Maybe there’ll be a decent spot there to take a photo of Itaipu.  Shouldn’t be hard to fit it all into one shot – so won’t have to waste too much memory-card on it.

Well, after my last update, I couldn’t delay going to the bar any longer – so I went.  And drank cerveja.  Wind started picking up, until the point where the plastic chairs, rubbish bins and tables started flying.  I suddenly remembered the guy on beach warning me of a storm due tomorrow.  And that he actually used the word ‘typhoon’.  Guys at the bar whooping and cheering when things start flying.  Then, when a girl walks past trying to hold her skirt down.  Then – the power goes out.  More whooping.  Wild weather brings out the feral.  Power stayed off, in entire town.  So – bar closes up, and I walk back to apartment.  Much more people on the street now, in freezing cold wind, than I have ever seen during day.  Drank a beer by ‘candlelight’ (torch really), and listened to very very strong & loud wind.  Power came on after a while – announced by more whooping from the streets.

16 June

Packed my bags, and went to bar for a goodbye cerveja.  Catch bus to a town/suburb in the middle of the island, then get on another I hope is heading for the central city.  It does, but not to where the Lonely Planet says it will.  Luckily, the long-distance bus station isn’t where the Lonely Planet says it is either, and is only 100m from where I am standing trying to figure out where I am.

Only bus to Montevideo is at 10am.  It is 2pm.  Dumb.  Porto Alegro is on the way, so look for tickets to there.  One at 10pm, or one at 2pm.  Guy talks me into the 2pm one, despite it being bang on 2pm now.  Expensive, but comfortable bus.  Not comfortable enough for the kid sitting opposite me though.  Cried constantly.  Loudly.

At Porto Alegro, I find a bus leaving from there to Montevideo the same night – so book that, drink a couple of cervejas, give my passport to some guy working on the bus, and head off.  Again, expensive, but comfy – with food, drinks, pillow & blanket provided.  And when I wake up – my passport is given to me, all stamped and border crossing finished.

17 June

Montevideo is very cold.  2ºC according to a streetside display.  Good weather for a nice bracing walk.  So – I walk from bus station.  Found a cemetery.  Very cool cemetery.  These guys know how to be buried.  Although I was confused by the tombs with lifesize statues of jeebers or his mummy on them.  Surely, if you’re going to pay for a lifesize statue on your tomb – you’d get yourself?  Then, I discovered that some chaps did in fact agree with me.  I am going to start saving for a lifesize statue of myself for my grave.  Also – discovered a grave that must have belonged to somebody pretty important, or with some powerful friends.  Huge block of stone, in plot facing ocean.  Also saw a creepy grave.  Statue of some creepy looking guy/monster, with eyes that followed me.  And the eye-in-a-pyramid symbol.  Not a grave I’d get drunk and fool around with my cheerleader girlfriend on while sinister music plays in the background.

Old lady in cemetery warned me to watch out for thieves.  Then, when I left cemetery, and kept walking, realised I was in rather dodgy part of town.  So – I stayed the course.  Eventually reached Independence Square.  Big big statue of a general who helped Uruguay gain independence.  On his horse.  Big.  Underneath it – is an urn with his ashes.  From the size of the urn – the statue may be lifesize.  Room with the urn big barren square.  Big text on the walls with the dates of his life, and two armed guards.

Finally found an hotel, after asking around a few.  Food (suddenly remember that my spanish phrasebook is awful.  Spain spanish, not south america spanish), a short walk around, then a mission to find a cheap bar.  Mission accomplished, but almost feel guilty walking into this place.  The only patrons are very old men.  Most of whom look broken.  Bar owner flaunting the ‘no-smoking in public places/establshments’ law.  But I stay, let somebody know as soon as possible that I’m not a seppo, but from Nova Zelandia.  Make friends – all good.  Meet a guy who speaks passable english – who takes me to another bar.  Talk rugby for a while, and he ends up paying for my drinks at new bar, and insisting that he ‘walk me home’.  (Strictly security-wise, okay?)

18 June

And today, I spent eating a huge steak at the meat market, and then shopping.  Bought myself a thermos, and the rest of the equipment to drink some mate.  Not sure where I’m gonna get boiling water from, but it’ll sort itself out.  Also – after my shoelace breaking for the 10th or so time, got some new shoes.  Should have enough time to ruin these ones just in time so that I have to buy brand new shoes for the Inca Trail, and get some beautiful blisters.  Yeah, sweet.  And now – a couple of hours on internet, uploading photos.  More scenery and what-not.  Then, I’ve got a date with the chap I met last night.  The guy who bought me drinks.  And walked me home.  Hmmm… it is sounding quite bad now.  But anyway, hopefully he’ll have some info on whether any cable channels here will have the rugby on the weekend.  Finally, the south african timezone is actually good.

Anyway – Barra da Lagoa.  On a 14km long beach.  Walked nearly halfway down it yesterday, and went for swim.  Was planning on attempting the whole length today – but stopped for fuel beforehand (X-Salada – salad sandwich which included peas & corn, and cerveja of course), and decided it was far too cold/windy to do such a thing.  Instead, returned to my apartment, slung the hammock on my verandah, and listened to music, drank cerveja, and read sarky old Saki.

But, it’s definitely time to leave.  Guy on beach for sunset today told me there’s a five-day storm forecast.  And the bar owner has started giving me free fish.  Also started being invited by locals to go for more drinks at their houses/shops.  One-eyed man wanted me to go with him to his house, or friends house, for beers and cigarettes.  Another chap signalled to me with the ‘watch him’ symbol.  When I got the chance, I went to chat to my guardian instead – and when I told him my favourite brasilian beer (not sold at bar) – he suggested going to his shop in town, as he had a stock.  But, I was already quite drunk, and had a whiskey before calling it a night.

Tomorrow – either catch a bus all the way to Montevideo (Uruguay), which would be 22 hours; or try to find a semi-interesting point midway to break up the journey.  Wouldn’t mind staying in the border town, although it sounds like it’s got nothing going for it – other than the main street being the border.

And regarding Tiny Dancers – they should not only be put on a pedastal… they should be put on a rotating pedastal accompanied by sweet music.  Maybe in one’s closet, so that when one opens the door, they spring into action.  Jewellry-box like, you see?

So – some random observations of my time thus far:

- we are using cellphones all wrong.  You are supposed to hold it in front of your mouth when speaking.  Then, when you’ve finished, hold the speaker to your ear.  This way, it is impossible for the other person to interrupt you.  Although some people here put their phones on permanent speakerphone mode, that way you don’t have to keep moving the phone from mouth to ear.

- the whole thing about “don’t wear ‘bumbags’, you automatically look like a tourist”?  Not true.  Many many locals here love the things.  In some towns I have felt out of place not having a big pouch hanging off my waist.

- cashier system here is great.  Most places have a person employed solely as the cashier.  People behind the counter getting burgers/etc – never touch the money.  A few variations on the theme.  Chicken place in Guyana – buy a ticket/receipt off one woman, who spends most of her time idle.  Then – with your ticket – try to press to the front of heaps of people waving their tickets at the two overworked people behind counter.  Another method – everybody gets a sheet of paper when they walk in.  Everytime you buy something, it is marked on the sheet.  When you leave – hand paper to cashier.  Sometimes an extra person is added outside, to check that your paper has been stamped by the cashier.

- did I mention the little girl who threw up on the bus?  In aisle, right next to my seat.  To be fair – the toilet was occupied.  And somebody was thoughtful enough to place some newspaper over the vomit for the remaining several hours of the trip.

- Tiny dancers.  I have seen two dancers who could be considered ‘tiny’.  The first – my Caracas girlfriend.  She was fairly small, and was definitely a dancer.  However, she had bare feet, not bound.  Not sure if she can be counted.  The second – a small boy appearing on a music DVD, imitating the main star.  Very tiny, very much dancing – but a child, and not in person.  Not sure if he can be counted.  I am also lacking on the spotting of any Rocketmen, or Nikita.

- Each country uses a different technique for dealing with the age-old “beer-getting-warm” problem.  Venezuela – very small beers.  Brasil - ’coolers’ for each 600ml bottle.  Which are pretty cool.  Wish I’d brought a stubby-holder with me actually.  Have seen some can-sized ones here, but are rather primitive and bulky.

And that’s about all.  Still haven’t decided on which bus to take, or where to go.  Maybe cerveja will help.  Oh, did I mention that Sao Paulo is the second largest city IN THE WORLD?  Over 11 million in the ‘city proper’.  29 million in the ‘metropolitan area’.  Big.

Finally escaped Rio.  Knew for sure I’d been there too long when even the guy at the juice store knew my name (and included me in the employee jokes); the grumpy guy working at hostel greeted me warmly with handshake, smile, and pat on the back everytime he saw me (maybe he recognised a kindred spirit?); the guy at the bar on the corner greeted me with a handshake each time (every brasilian has their own special handshake – this was handshake, followed by touching fists); and the hostel owner gave me a hug and kisses as I left (as well as making sure that her son knew I was leaving today, “Because he likes you, and he’d be upset to come here this evening and find you’ve gone”).

So, Elise, I guess I have been making friends.  But it doesn’t mean I like people.

So – left Rio.  Caught the next bus to Paraty, from dodgy old bus station.  Dodgy HUGE bus station.  Big ol’ bus station.  Bus to Paraty – passed a nuclear power plant; a town in a nice bay which would have been awesome, until they built a big container ship port there; some kind of planned community with identical houses on straight tree lined streets, looking exactly like a seppo military base ‘community’ from the moving-picture-shows.

Then – Paraty.  Another World Heritage site, I think.  More cobblestone streets.  Rather expensive in the historic centre though.  Prices for beers double, depending on whether you walked on cobblestones or asphalt to get there.  The ‘Shrimp Festival’ was on when I arrived though – so had to have a meal of shrimp in the expensive part of town.  Immediately followed by finding a small local’s bar in the cheap part of town, and enjoying cheap beers.  About 30% cheaper than in Rio.

11 June

Went on a ‘Schooner Tour’.  Get on a schooner.  Tour some of the 65 islands, and 300 beaches nearby.  Not many of them though.  4 stops in total.

First – a little snorkelling.  Forgot how bad I am at snorkelling.  I decided to blame it on my mask not being tight enough though, and couldn’t be bothered to test my theory after getting out to tighten it.

Second – a beach.  Not a great beach, but a beach.  Very small waves, but… it was a nice change.

Third – stopped in a small cove.  Had lunch, saw some ginga monkeys, and a very very red bird.  Lunch was extra – and fairly overpriced, of course.  Beers also.

Fourth – another beach.  Pretty bad beach, but set way back in a long narrow bay.  Good place to live for when the Reds come.  (You know what Reds I mean, and they ain’t communist.)  Sit on the beach and pick them off when they come in the mouth of the bay.  There were a few turtles and an old man who had obviously had the same idea.

After that – a freezing cold shower.  My room here has it’s own bathroom, but the very dangerous setup for hot water doesn’t work.  And I’ve heard too many stories for me to try fiddling with it to make it work.  I’ll try to remember to take a photo of one sometime.  Basically – an electric unit attached to the showerhead which heats the cold water as it flows through.  But – the electrical wiring for it is always uncovered – and I don’t think I’ve ever seen one with all three wires attached.  Which, as most of them work, I assume means they haven’t been grounded.  Pretty sweet.

Entire evening was beers and snacks at my local bar.  Just as I’d decided that I should leave, a car of three guys pull up.  End up joining them, chatting.  When they leave, they want to pay for the one beer I’d bought since joining them, despite them buying a couple – and us all sharing all of them.  Then, the very drunk guy says something else to the waiter.  They leave, I finish the beer, and go to pay my bill.  They’ve paid for everything.  Which was not heaps, but a fair bit.  But – they’re rich city boys from Sao Paulo.

Sao Paulo is where I hope to be heading in an hour or two.  Currently have my laundry being done.  I feel really sorry for these people when I pull out my laundry bag.  But… I’ve tried handwashing, and it just doesn’t work.  It just doesn’t work.

6 hours in the bus to Sao Paulo.  Hopefully one or two hours in Sao Paulo bus station, followed by 12 hours to Florianopolis.  Not sure if I’ll stay there, or catch another bus on.  See how I feel by then.  At the moment, I just want to get out of Brasil.  Go somewhere cheaper.  I’m sick of paying over one NZ dollar for a beer.

But a couple of days ago – went up the Sugar Loaf.  Walked the length of Copacabana.  Saw the actual beach – which was far more impressive than the small section I saw the other day.  Finally understood why it is famous.  Met a local with a blind dog, who was very proud of his beach.  Only one Copacabana in the world, he reckoned.

Then – walked on to the Sugar Loaf, and caught the cable car up.  Climbed up out of the hatch, and had a fistfight with an evil henchman named Jaws.  Had been told the view from the top was even better than that from the Cristo statue.  Not too sure if I agree – but the view of Copacabana was pretty good.  Got up there in time to see view during daytime, then waited for the sunset (nothing to do but drink overpriced beers), watched the sunset, then continued waiting for the nighttime view with the city lit up.  Pretty cool.

And since then, nothing but drinks and hangovers.  Vodka the other night.  Reminded why I shouldn’t drink vodka.  But – introduced several people to the B-b-b-bodka.  Last night – met a kiwi girl from Owen Street, Newtown, Wellington.  Very cool girl, made inappropriate (as in dark humour) jokes, had seen and liked the “Oldboy” movie, and was fairly attractive as well.  I believe I said “God, I love kiwi chicks” several times.  But was also careful to mention that I already had one.

Also tried rolling my own cigar with the tobacco & corn husk given to me by old man in Congonhas.  Went surprisingly well, but got lots of strange looks by other people – most of whom probably thought I was smoking drugs.

But – must go now, and try to think of something to do which will not result in me waking up late tomorrow.  Hopefully go to Paraty tomorrow.

Spent entire day downloading two of the rugby games played that morning.  Then trying to burn them onto DVD so we could watch them on the big screen.  Lots of problems, turned out to be impossible.  Not just ‘too hard for me’, but ‘impossible’, okay?  Instead, waited until late, when nobody wanted to use internet – and watched it on computer monitor.  Oh – and did I mention last time that when we hiked through forest to see good views of Rio – it was through the largest urban forest IN THE WORLD?  And that when we went to the statue of Jeebers, it is the second largest statue IN THE WORLD?

03 June

Find some New Zealand wine in store.  Oyster Bay – about R$100.  Something a little cheaper, R$60.  Too expensive for me.  I buy a bottle of Brasilian wine for around R$20.  Go to the ‘Hippy Market’, and don’t buy anything.  Then, I justify to myself going back to hostel and drinking wine while watching DVDs with the fact that it’s a Sunday afternoon and raining.  Several people have similar idea, and go buy some more wine & chocolate.  I end up being unable to finish my third bottle.

04 June

Shaved.  Blunt razor, two weeks of growth – takes me about an hour.  Maybe more.  Nearly convinced myself I’d done enough for the day – but not quite.  Walked to Copocabana beach, and sat at beachside stall for some food.  Guy didn’t have change for a 50, so had to stay and drink some more caipirinhas until my bill was high enough.  Oh well.  I think I prefer Ipanema beach, and Ipanema beach caipirinhas.

On way back to hostel, discover another oirish pub.  Called “The Irish Pub”.  Drinks are same price as first spud pub I found – but have a special of buy 2 pints of Guinness, get one free.  Sweet – I’m actually making money.  I go in, drink some Guinness, talk rugby, etc.  Much nicer pub than other spud pub.  More genuine/nice appearance, more genuine/nice barman, more genuine/nice patrons.  I end up going through 6 Guinnesses, before (of course) corner bar for a couple of beers and food.  Trying for early night – but again fail.

Instead, decided for one last beer at little ‘bar’ on corner.  Lots of gringos, which annoyed me – as I’d discovered this place a couple of days back, and thought it was a local’s joint.  One last beer turned into several, with much chat about sport.  And with me, englishmen, arsetralians, brasilians, and oirish – and discussions of rugby & soccer – was of course interesting.  At one point, an english guy had a rather large knife held to his throat by a Brasilian for saying that in futbol Brasil was number 1, and England was number 2.  Jokingly.  I think.

Also discovered after a little while that one local I was chatting to was the local ‘favela’ ‘king’.  The favelas here are the slums.  Police don’t enter.  Gangs run the show, and there are tourist tours to them.  Odd.  Apparently, some of the kings earn a couple of million US$ from running them.  Drugs, and that sort of thing.  But – if people commit ‘crimes’ (according to the king’s standard of morals) within the favela – pretty severely dealt with.  Guide today told us that one guy was recently caught burgling (wouldn’t be difficult, nor very profitable, in a slum, I guess) – and had his hands cut off, then doused in petrol – and didn’t live much longer.

But, happier subjects.  Went on my tour today.  Hiked to top of a hill for views of city.  Then, went to the Cristo statue.  The big statue of Jeebers on top of the hill.  Pretty cool.  Good statue, except for the subject matter – and amazing views.  Rio de Janeiro is a bloody beautiful city.  Lots of tourists – so I think my attempt at a videoclip of the panorama is crap.  But – awesome awesome view.  A few stereotypical photos of imitating the statue.  Lunch in Santa Tereza – old suburb.  Back to hostel, and rather tired.  Should have had siesta, but instead opted for a few cervejas and watching some bad action movies in Portuguese.  Probably going to have to go out tonight, as the street party in Lapa is famous – and it’s either tonight, or tomorrow night.  And tomorrow night, I’m hopefully watching the rugby.

And as far as tiny dancers are concerned, I’m a little worried now.  I have often confused Al Pacino with Robert De Niro - so I can’t be trusted to judge whether or not the loud angry man is here designing jandalthongflipflops or not.

Caipirinhas consist solely of cachaca (very strong spirit made from sugar cane), crushed limes and sugar.  So – rather strong.  So – lost my group before I even entered the stadium.  And from what I could gather, my ticket wasn’t for any particular seat.  Watched the game, and left the stadium with no way of getting home.  Aimlessly ate and drank at street stalls until all crowds had left.  Started to get a little worried, but still haggled much with taxi driver for my fare home.  He finally gave in and believed that I only had R$17.  I actually had about 600 in a hidden pocket – but had decided that being stranded in a dodgy suburb of Rio would be the time to start some serious bargaining.  He got his revenge though – I got out at what I thought was a corner near my hostel.  Turned out not to be – so was still rather lost.  Eventually found my way home though.  Safe and sound, at about 3am.  And woke up this morning to discover two very scandinavian girls have moved into my dorm.  Another delicious recipe.

Haven’t seen any tiny dancers – but there are some very small thongs/flip-flops/jandals.  Also very large ones.  Lots of thongsflipflopsjandals – except in my size.  Stupidly big ones, and stupidly small ones, and heaps one size bigger or smaller than Kruse-size.  Which reminds me – anybody want some?  Apparently Havaianas are very expensive and sought after everywhere else in the world – but between 6 & 10 US$ here.