Author: Kruse

Am in small village called Barra da Lagoa, which is considered part of Florianopolis, I believe.  Island called Ilha de Santa Catarina.  Affectionately known as Floripo.  Beaches, etc.  Got off the bus after about 24 hours of travelling, and took advice/suggestion of first hawker/tout.  Helped that he offered a car ride to Barra, when otherwise I would have had to walk to a different bus station in Floripo proper, caught a bus to one town, then caught another to Barra.  But – he offered me R$35 per night for 3 nights.  Was planning on only staying 2, but too tired to argue.  We get there – and my room is actually a fully self-contained apartment.  Sweet.  Fridge, stove/oven, everything.  $R10 for the petrol (pretty happy when he asked me for that.  I was thinking for a while that he’d assumed I’d paid for it at the station, while I assumed he had – and that there would be a situation with the policia.  In which I’m pretty sure the tourist would come off the worst.)

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 pedestal… they should be put on a rotating pedestal accompanied by sweet music.  Maybe in one’s closet, so that when one opens the door, they spring into action.  Jewellery-box like, you see?

10 June

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.

Another update, soon after the last.  Not much to say, but am stuck in Sao Paulo bus station.  Trying to figure out what bus I want to catch – as in when, and where to.

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.

Still in Rio.  Very similar situation to Ben & me in Khao San Road.  Just can’t leave.  Planned to leave yesterday, and today.  But – big night, big sleep, wake up late – don’t leave.  Repeat.

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.