Mar 2008

Hello,

I haven't updated for ages and am dead behind. So much has happened that I'm worried I will not remember all the details of the last part of the trip...plus it's not the same because I don't have my trusty travel companion. Things just arnt as funny on your own. I MISS MMMMMMMM.

So left off with me taking the bus, and M flying to BA from Iguazu falls in Argentina. It's a practice separation for us, and it goes fine. I set off a day before M because of the time the bus will take, over night. It's my first go on an Argie bus and I like it. Big comfy seats which recline nearly to horizontal, a fluffy pillow and a fleecy blanket which has a foot hood (a little hood your feet slip neatly into). Then there's the hot dinner delivered to you "in flight" fashion and a glass of bubbly to wash it all down. Most civilised and surprisingly tasty too. Almost enough to take the worry out of the dangerous and crazy driving. I'd opted to take the upstairs front seat, so had head on vision of the road and the crazy driving. Very scary. This bus driver was taking no prisoners.
I arrive in BA on Friday the morning. I have met a lovely girl on the bus who helps me get myself sorted at the bus station. I'm feeling good after the white knuckle ride, Im quite alert and decide to walk to the hostel. 20 mins later Ive checked in and am all alone in BA awaiting Ms arrival later in the afternoon. The hostel is downtown and doesn't seem to resemble its pictures on the web?! But it's clean and seems efficient. I get on the Internet and try to get in touch with Brendan, Ben's American friend whom I met at Dans wedding in Pamplona watching the bulls run, last July. I potter about and have a wander round BA. It's a grand city and reminds me very much of Barcelona or Paris. It's much more European that any Brazilian city was. It's really smelly though with dirty cars and fumes. Apparently you don't need an MOT on your car, this is obvious by the rust heaps driving around the city. Proper flat tyres and bumpers scraping the ground and lots of large American gas guzzlers. The buses are really cool though, all fifties style with lots of polished chrome. I have a great day just wandering around, drinking some good coffee and people watching. I find myself a pedicurist on a busy street and make an appointment for half an hour later. I then wander off window shopping and completely loose my bearings, I can't find the place where I made the appointment, shit. I find BA very difficult to navigate round? odd. I run round desperately trying to find where Id made the appointment, just as I'm about to give up I spot the shopping centre. Best pedicure evah! I wont go into details! Back at the hostel M has arrived, and I check the net again. Yay Brendan has got in touch and would love to take us out for dinner, for half a cow. M and I glam it up. Well as far as you can with limited supplies. I'm already bored of my wardrobe. We jump into a cab over to Palermo Chico! = dead posh area. Brendan has a top floor penthouse apartment in one of the tallest buildings in BA. The views are stunning. Brendan is a perfect host and we sip vodka tonics (sorry M has a gin and tonic) and watch a BA sunset. Brendan lives with another male, Mick the cat. Mick is our new best friend and M and I lurve him. We are spoilt rotten and taken to Las Cantitas for dinner, to a restaurant called Campo Brava. Yum Yum Yum. Big fat juicy steaks and homemade chips with garlic, parsley and sea salt. Plus lots of red wine, Argentine Malbec. A really great meal. In fact the best yet. I end up staying out rather later than expected.

Its Saturday eve and we decide PACHA is a must! We drag Brendan there too, who hasn't even ever been. We're causing trouble already. By the way typing in South America is quite hard. None of the keys have the correct symbols on them, so forgive me if there are various punctuation mistakes. Anyway back to Pacha, which is pronounced PA - CHA, ie the ch as a tscha...M is wearing the new play suite from Sao Paolo and I'm in my long skirt. Were looking hot and in the mood to party! We don't let ourselves down! We finally leave the club at around 6ish and head back to the penthouse, bliss. Mick is there waiting to entertain us and loves hiding under my skirt. Although Ive had an accident, someone has trodden on the back of it and it has two holes in it! Most distressing. We watch a magnificent sunrise through the clouds and then decide that we really are beyond our best and should head to bed.

It's Sunday and after exactly 4 hours crap sleep we emerge from the hostel to meet Ms second cousin Angie who lives in BA. M remembers meeting her when they were kids but hasn't seen her since, M remembers that the was lots of jumping around and lights being turned on and off, and being told off a lot. Were sure that nothing much will have changed. We're right, Angie meets us at the hostel and immediately were giggling and chatting. We admit our hideous hangovers and Angie is sympathetic. We go and hang out in San Thelmo. A very bohemian quarter of BA with old colonial buildings, street markets, musicians and tango all taking place on the streets. We get lost and find our way to a square with a great antiques market and a perfect spot for lunch. After a couple of beers M and I feel slightly more human and we spend a nice afternoon chatting with Angie and her boyfriend Jesse. On route home we stop off for some helado from Freddo, oh my god delicious.
Brendan has kindly offered that we can stay with him for our remaining days in BA. We jump at the offer. M and I living in a penthouse in BA, we love it. Our own room, our own bathroom, gigantic fluffy towels, lovely kitchen and apple powerbook with Internet...plus Mick the pussy cat, heaven. We go out for some super other meals and M even decides to cook a culinary masterpiece in Brendan's honour. Were very spoilt. M and I are really rather lazy in BA and apart from going to see Recoletta the beautiful cemetery, we do little sight seeing (oh yeah an art gallery too)... Ill just have to go back.

We leave BA slightly later than expected, which means that the following weekend were still there. Asia de Cuba is visited and I hate it. It's full of men and trashy girls. The ratio is about 5 to 1. I love male attention but not sure about Argentine men. We go and stay with Angie and Jesse in her sweet flat in Cabalito for the weekend, and are very kindly invited out to San Isidro (family home) for a barbeque lunch. We head there and meet Angie's brother Mati, who does a mean bbq and we stuff our faces. It so nice hanging at a big house in the burbs!

Because Marianne's birthday in the following week and we wont be together, we decide we will just have to go back to pacha again to celebrate. Brendan has his girlfriend Chris over from the States. We all meet at Bs and have some delicious sushi and drinks. We then head out, M is on fire and has decided shes blagging the guest list queue. We rock straight up to the front and in her poshest English voice she tells the door girl that we are on Jose's list from Ibiza. There is a dead pan silence, "Jose who?" - "Jose Padilla in Ibiza..." - another stoney silence, but all the while shes looking straight at us...I can feel M breaking, but she holds it together. Then we're just about to fall on our arses and give in, when the the girls smile turns into a "yeah whatever!" grin, and she lets us, well all the girls in! Ha ha! After a great night we return back to Angie's flat.

We're in a state of shock. M's flight leaves at 2pm and I have bus to get. We're splitting up! I'm in denial. I'm in a mess, but we cant stop giggling about the evening! Too funny and M is happy her birthday eve went so well, we look like we've been dug up though and this is the vision I have of M finally leaving me. I say bye and we have a last giggle both SOOOO hungover. I'm glad I don't have to navigate passport control, I do however have a 22 hour bus to get my head round. Not till 5pm though so straight to bed for me. I have strange dreams about love bites on boobs...

Last funnies:
The Argentine guitarists, who can sing all Oasis song fluently, but speak no English?
The wrong bus to the wrong place.
Our mission at Pacha... it found us.
The taxi home listening to Guns and Roses, M's a rock chick.
Brendan's morning bar.
The man at the hostel who had a mirror obsession.
The Americans at Pacha, oh my god did we really speak with them?
Sebastian showing me the sights of seedy BA.
The man who doesn't eat or drink ever, and is still alive.
"Basically you're a cock" - Esther to Angie talking about Chinese horoscopes (I meant not a chicken).
Our plastic surgery - see photos!
Media Lunas again.
M's feet being nibbled by Mick at night.

I miss my wife! M where are you??! Oh yeah in my bed!

xxxxx

Sorry a bit late in coming....

We leave Rio rather confused as to where to head to next. We opt for Paraty an old colonial town about 5 hours south of Rio. We make our way to the 'hodoviaria'. This time the sun is blazing and its about 39 degrees. The beetle backs are heavy and hot, but we're getting more and more used to them. I'm luving my pack now, its getting a travel patina on it. I'm pleased that it doesn't smell anymore but it does have some travel marks on it, which I'M NOT CARING about. We get to the bus station and make our way over to the correct platform. It's lunch time so we get some food and wait for the bus. We then spot the most interesting hair style we've seen so far on our travels a friar tuck mullet! Hideously perfectly BAD. I must upload the photo...

The countryside outside Rio toward Paraty is very lush and green, the bus weaves its way through dense fields of uber bright green, and along the coastal road. The coast is made up of hundreds of islands including Isla Grande, which we've decided not to visit this time (regret, will just have to come back!)... The weather is not great and is over cast, but this does mean there are some very dramatic moody views of the ocean and the sky (cant take photos because the bus window is dirty and splashed). We get to Paraty and jump into a cab to the hostel. The hostel is just out of town on quite a desolate road. We are shown to our room, and immediately I don't really like it. It's very dark and log cabiny. It smells and its between the toilet and the other part of dorm room. This means that the girls, who are Swedish, in the main dorm have to trapes through our room to get to the loo. I see problems ahead. We unpack and go out for dinner. Unpacking my bag means taking out my wash bag. Which seems to just get bigger and bigger. Taking out my walking shoes which take up much more space than I'd like, and then taking out whatever I need to wear. I never actually totally unpack. All my warm wear is stuffed in the bottom of the bag and has only been out of the bag a few times.

M fancies Thai food and we've read about a Thai in town. Its about a 20 min walk into town along a now very dark road. In the dark and surrounded by palm trees and other lush vegetation and cicadas humming it really feels like we're in the jungle. It's very quiet in town and seems to be deserted. We have dinner and then find a delicious sorveteria. We have some ice-cream scoops (bolas) and get pestered by a drunken sailor. This town is weird. It's all cobbles, so walking anywhere is quite difficult, it feels like we've had too many caiperinas. We head home for the night and take some lovely shots on route home of the moon over the sea.

I don't sleep very well that night, it's very hot and I can hear the mossies flying around me. I still don't like this place. Then the following evening it all become clear. I get into bed with my head torch on to do some reading, the light obviously illuminates parts of the bed that have not seem light for a while, if ever. I find an open durex packet down the side of the bed. I pick it up by the corner and mutter to Marianne that I knew I felt uncomfortable in the bed! Then I look more closely down the side of the bed. Oh no! the condom, used (urrrrgh) is also there! That's it, I cant stay here another night. The Swedish girls then keep us up all night being very very drunk. There are also some 18 year old British lads above us and because of the log cabin style hostel, i.e loads of wood. It's very noisy and they sound like a herd of elephants. We decide to leave the next day.

We head for Sao Paulo and Paraty becomes our least favourite part of our trip. It has a really strange vibe and is full of rather odd people. It really makes a difference though to what hostel you stay at and we didn't like that one.

We walk into town to get the bus and stop off for a delish Acai on route to make us feel better.

We get into Sao Paulo around 10pm. A sweet couple on the bus help us with the metro system and get us going to the right place. It all seems very efficient and clean. It reminds us of NYC, and me of Brussels. Sao Paulo is massive, a massive sprawling metropolis. We stay in possibly the weirdest hostel of the trip, in an area called Jardins. Pronounced as you would in English i.e. not with the French twist on it. Its right round the corner from the plushest shopping area in SP. It on a very big main road (try M40 approach into London) and the room is like the worst hotel room you've ever been in. BUT its clean, has simple beds with nothing hiding down the side of them. Plus it has the biggest wardrobes you've ever seen. I properly unpack and realise that all my clothes smell of yukky fruit or whatever the spillage on the backpack was. They need to be washed. We hunt down a laundry and M spots a new playsuit in a beautiful shop. We have a good old nose round SP and establish that we quite like it. Great shopping and very cool customers. Its very different from Rio in that M and I can't not wear the Havainas, but no one else is seen dead in them. We go for Sunday brunch at a lovely cafe down the road from the hostel. Everyone is out. All dressed up to the nines in casual Sunday brunch outfits. We are in our 'havs' and decide we've have 'hav faux pas'd'...it takes us ages to get a table and the looks we get because we're in flip flops is astonishing. We learn we've crossed the Carioca / Paulita line and it's serious! During brunch we get speaking to a SP couple who are surprised we've bothered to visit SP. They're wrong. It's a big city and not the most beautiful. But there is a certain charm in it. Some of the architecture is very striking and the juxtaposition of the buildings is great. M finds her Bartlett architectural heart-strings being plucked. On a particularly adventurous day we head off to watch the traders do their business working on the stock market. It about 11 in the morning and we visit the main trading centre in SP, we are directed to the viewing platform in the building. It's a high level viewing platform and we can see the trading floor through a glass screen. We're immediately spied by the traders as two blonds on the deck and notice that all of a sudden all eyes are directed at us. We're sure we've caused a BLACK Monday in SP because of our innocent distraction! We're both glad we're not traders, it looks crazy. We then visit the tallest building you can get to the top of in SP, the view is staggering. Sao Paulo is three times the size of Paris, it's vast and spreads without end into the horizon.

We've been on the road for over a month now and the tempo has changed. We're both more chilled and also more independent, i.e. we need some personal space. We've both been quite homesick and give each other a bit more space. M's departure and our splitting up is on the cards and this also plays a massive part in our relationship. I for one am quite stressed about it. She been my partner in crime and we've had such a fab time together. So many hilarious situations where we've not even had to speak to one another to understand how we feel. Isn't it great in life when you meet people who's sense of humour is just completely in tune to your own, and just a glance from one another means fits of giggles. I suppose that's what I call true friendship. Laughing is without a doubt the best medicine and I really couldn't live without it. It's my favourite thing in the world. We've had a lot a laughs this holiday and I wish I could recount every one in my blog. Obviously A, I can't remember them all and B, they're to naughty to tell!

We cant bear to spilt up yet so M decides she to will venture with me to Iguazu falls and Buenos Aires. Yay another few weeks together! We get a bus on the Monday to Iguazu falls Foz Do Iguazu (the Brazilian side).

We stay at Pousada Evalina which is a spotless hostel/b&b. It all seems wonderful on the face of it spotlessly clean, air con and more like a hotel. Until breakfast. Now breakfast was included in the cost of our room, all you can eat. So before our trip to the falls in the morning we headed off to the buffet breakfast. Our stomachs have shrunk somewhat on the trip so we each had two small ish rolls with some cheese and ham and some fruit. I then suggested that we take a roll for later on in the day. We wrapped the rolls in paper to take back to the room. Little did we know that we been spotted on CCTV!!! and were then told in no uncertain terms that unless we put the food back we would be charged for it! What?! Ok so I have to say we felt jolly guilty at the time, but now writing this I think what bollocks. One roll - I wish we'd just sat there and stuffed them into our mouths. This of course would have been acceptable. Anyway we check out and although we'd left the naughty rolls on the table, they had been neatly packed into a plastic bag ready for us to take on our day out, AND we'd been charged. We felt guilty all the way to the falls, in fact until we ate them. The falls soon made us forget our woes! Stupendous!!

Later on we made our way to ARGENTINA!!!! A quick trip through customs (luckily no contraband rolls to declare) and we leave Brazil. Undoubtedly one of my most favorite countries ever. I love it (Brazil) I will be back.

We've booked into a place called Hostel Inn which is in Puerto Iguazu on the Argentine side of the falls. Its like a Butlins! We get to our hut where we're sharing with two American girls. Twins from California. M has to move their trekking shoes out into the corridor because the smell so bad. We then meet the boys next door who are Israeli twins. There are beautiful (both sets) and we head over to the main campus for an all you can eat Argentine BBQ. Our first stab at Argentine meat in Argentina.

The next day we head to see the falls again but from a different county. You look at the falls from the top of them and see the cascading over the rock. Much more dramatic, but not good for photos, too wet! I do manage to get a photo of one of the Argentine guides on the train. Mr Rene Fucks! Um not sure if he was joking. I hope he was.

Next Stop BA Baracus...Est on Bus, M on plane!

Notes:

Weird man on beach in Paraty who make me a ring.
Hummingbird at Iguazu.
Una Dos tres SEXO! (counting before you take a photo!)
Learning about Israeli military service (heart wrenching)
Freaky perv taxi driver.
Red earth.
No molesting the animals as we're told in the Iguazu guide.

xxxx