Thursday the sun finally made an appearance and I rewarded its efforts with a trip to the beach. On the way a lovely old lady tried to help me on the train, although I was pretty sure I was on the right track, telling me I was going the wrong way, then realised it was her that took the wrong train! Bless...
Originally planning to meet some CSers there, I then ran out of phone credit trying to find them at Ipanema and settled for sitting alone in the hot hot sun. It was all good though, I just plugged in the ol' iPod and settled down for a nice rest. Beer in hand, I soon plucked up the courage to beckon over one of the (many) people selling stuf on the sand, and looked at some Brazilian bikinis. After some haggling, I got the man down to a good price and BOOM, I was a Brazilian. Well, not quite, but I was getting there...
Man, those things are TINY! My ass ate it as soon as it was on... I really think there is an art to wearing them and I think I need practice. But anyway, I felt better not wearing the ǵranny pants' as they call them here haha... if only they went to Australia!!
After I felt I had been sufficiently kissed by the sun (oh, that is an understatement!), I ventured out to find the bus stop to get to a mountain with a great view of Rio. Still camera-less (damn my trashy self), I ensured I got the email addresses of some of the CSers I had met to do the climb up the mountain, so I could get them to send photos to me. The walk up was ok, me in my flip flops as per usual (I can do anything in those things!!) but at the peak, after some lush views, the skies opened and we ran under cover out of the pelting rain. I was worried about going back down the steep dirt path to the bottom but thankfully at that time, they just shepherded everyone back down on the cable car for free. Nice.
It was around dinner time then, so a few of us went to a local restaurant to have MEAT and other stuf. Good conversation, I made friends with a nice guy D (he comes into the story later) and had a few welcome beers. Afterwards, I tried my friend who had just landed in Rio but after another non-response I jumped on the bus to my apartment with a couple of the guys from dinner.
DEAR GOD.
These bus drivers are mental. Actually mental. Even if they didnt laugh like maniacs as they sped passed people waving to stop at bus stations, randomly opening the doors as they swerved around traffic and turned to talk to the ticket collectors. Yep, I say a little prayer every time I board one of those journeys straight to the bowels of hell.
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