thank you and goodnight

I am not sure if I will come back to this blog again in the future.  you would have already noticed that my input onto it has been waininig somewhat over the past few months. I guess I have had less and less need to write here.

I am home now, my amazing five month adventure abroad has come to an end.  and now starts the next wonderful adventure.  only this one is here, at home, discovering what the future has lying ahead of me (any pointers or suggestions welcome).  and although it is daunting, I am really excited by the prospect of it.

the common question of course has been, what was your highlight or your favourite moment.  and as you would expect, it's not an easy one to answer.  but I'll give you something.  the best that I can come up with is the following...

* being completely free to do whatever I wanted
* spending time on my own and getting to know myself again
* learning to dance the tango
* the pantanal
* the iguazu falls

in answer to my favourite question, courtesy of the panteli family...
"what was your favourite empanada?" roquefort and jamon, particularly the homemade ones...

thank you everyone for reading my blog, and for all your comments and compliments.  I had an amazing time away and it was that much more special knowing that you were all following and interested.  and to this day I will wonder who was reading me in finland and korea...

chasing butterflies
I still will be, will you..?

?

it's no good being a good dancer if you haven't got a partner.

fifteen minutes of fame

yesterday I was on Polish television dancing a polonez. perhaps my number one fan will find you it online as I have had no luck.

mmm in barcelona...

dancing a tango in a barcelona milonga

the moment you've all been waiting for... part one

laura klimas sawyer tangos in buenos aires

the moment you've all been waiting for... part two

laura klimas sawyer does tango milonguero

the moment you've all been waiting for... part three

laura klimas sawyer does argentine tango

the final curtain...

my last week in Buenos Aires has been tango focused.  two hours of tango a day has meant that I finally turned a corner with my dancing.  I am now really enjoying the dance, not only am I able to stay on my feet, improvise a little, but I can also smile and enjoy the embrace.

sunday - "que passo ayer 2" (otherwise known as the hangover two)

monday - villa malcolm milonga, where I met my new favourite dance partner

tuesday - dinner at rio with my lovely dutch friend, and on to la catedral for an amazing milonga.  this is by far my favourite milonga in buenos aires.  the onda is electric.  when the orchestra started to play in the middle of the night, everyone squeezed in and danced in a circle around them.  and when the lights went off at four am, some of the orchestra came back out and played for us, whilst we danced in the dark.

wednesday - parilla with my housemate, and on to frank's where you step into a phone box, dial the secret code and the opposite wall of the phone box magically opens and lets you into this exclusive speakeasy.

thursday - I danced an amazing tango where I was doing things with my legs that I did not even know I could do!  I ended up with both my legs on my partners left hip!  I was so excited when I jumped off everyone in the room started clapping.  then I headed home for a well deserved massage and rest.

friday - soiree at my apartment with homemade empanadas and a version of eton mess, and on to frank's again through the phone box.

saturday - tango school party, followed by my last trip to la catedral where I danced some of my best tangos so far.

sunday, today - I am finishing my packing, tidying up, writing and wondering whether there is anyway for me to squeeze in another tango this evening....

less than a week to go

I have less than a week to go before I leave Buenos Aires.

it's been good, but it's time to move on.

I came here to get to know another city.  check.  I can navigate myself around the maze that is the city on buses and subways.  I've walked hundreds of blocks, have been able to give people directions when asked, and offer recommendations too.

I came here to learn some Spanish.  and I can do more than order a glass of wine or an empanada.  I can hold my own in a conversation, I can follow a fast and furious debate, and to an extent I can philosophise about my emotions, my hopes and my dreams.

and of course I came here to learn the tango.  and tango I can.  sure I'm not perfect.  but now when I am asked to dance at a milonga, I don't feel like I have to accept with an apology for being a beginner, I can follow a lot of leads and I haven't fallen over yet.

I still have things to learn.  my guard still goes up when a stranger gets to close in the dance, but I am working on that, and it is much improved.  I have learnt to "seperate" my lower body from my upper body, which is a bizaar concept.  and I can almost always interpret a boleo alto and execute it with some grace.

I am yet to video my efforts.  I have meant to for the last couple of days at class, but I am embarrased to ask.  but today, I promise to try to pluck up the courage.

most importantly of all, I have made some lovely friends, friends that I hope to stay in touch with for a long time.  and I have found some peace within me.  and although I am still not entirely clear on the path that my life will take when I return home in just six weeks, I don't feel so afraid.

I feel like my time away has allowed me to get to know myself again, to find the Laura inside that over the past two years I could not always find.  and you know what?  it's great to get to know her again.  I'd forgotten how much fun she can be!

the colourful streets of almagro

tree

almuerzo mezclado

today a Polish girl from England had Japanese food for lunch in Buenos Aires' Chinatown with an English friend from Australia.

random

there are no words...

untitled

dancing in la catedral

on saturday night I went to a milonga in "la catedral".  I had heard about it, and was told it was amazing.  I was imagining something grand and spectacular, but when I arrived outside the building I couldn't help but be bitterly disappointed.  the place looked like an old gymnasium or something.  all concrete and sadness...

I climbed the rickety old stairs up to the dance hall and as I turned the corner, past the cloakroom, I stopped dead in my tracks and literally lost my breath for a second.  from the outside I couldn't have imagined this place being so spectacular!

the ceiling was just like a catedral, with wooden exposed beams and slats.  the space was huge, the lights were low and there were few people on the dancefloor when we arrived.  that soon changed, as I had arrived with my tango school after a party at the studio.  the great thing about that was that I got a dance or two.

but this is where I realised that my shoes were just too high.  I have never seen a floor like this one.  the hall that I dance in in Balham has a bad floor, but this was ten times worse.  that being said, it looked so charming and inviting in the dim candle light with all the holes and gaps in it.  but I was worried throughout all of my tangos that I was going to fall down and take my partner with me.

but surrounded by the eclectic and somewhat surreal art in this strange cathedral, I stayed on my feet.

http://www.lacatedralclub.com/

hug skills improving

you will all be pleased to hear that following my decision to work on my intimacy issues... I was complimented on my hug in today's tango class!  ok, it was actually my "abrazo", which also translates as "hold", but still!  it's the same thing, I am learning not to be afraid of getting up close to a stranger.

the other thing I learnt, was that my beautiful new tango shoes are in fact too high for dancing in...  oops.  so I went out and bought another pair!  oops!  also beautiful!  so today's class was that much more successful because it was my first class in heels.

all in all a great day.  nicely rounded off with a light hearted argentinian folklore dance class.

guess work with the camera...

do you recognise her?

my very own Jose Oreguy portrait

this picture has nothing to do with the story, I just like it

I had such a fun night last night.  after my four hour tango marathon, where I started to implement strategy "liberate emotions", I went to meet some friends at the circus!

yes my friends, the high top was in town.  all red and yellow and blue stripes and as big as I could ever imagine.  (you can hear the music in your heads now can't you?)  we felt like little kids again as the anticipation built up and the atmosphere grew tense.

there was not an animal in sight, and all the better for it.  this was a young circus from french canada, made up of beautiful athletes.  Polo Circo would make us laugh and gasp, sad and amazed.  they had everything, juggling (whilst cartwheeling of course), trapeze (with obligatory beautiful brunette, again you can hear a song in your head right?), knife throwing (in a kind of pin the tail on the donkey kind of way) and of course springboarding humans across the stage and the cirque du soleil style spinning down a rope.

it was such fun to watch, they choreographed it beautifully and told a really interesting story.

so of course, after meeting the circus performers (as you do) we decided to go for a drink and a dance.  and man alive did we dance!  they were playing such funky beats, songs that I haven't heard in years, and therefore I haven't danced like that in years.  I had my flats on and there was no stopping me.  we danced until two am before deciding to try to find a milonga...

at the milonga there were just four couples on the huge dancefloor.  it felt like a scene in a movie...  the couples dancing, whilst the barman clears away tables around them and starts to turn on the lights.  but the music keeps playing, so the dancers just keep dancing, entranced in their private moments.

it was such a cool night, thank you.

learning faith again... tonight's most important lesson

at tonight's milonga I learnt a few important lessons.

they were that in order to become a better tango dancer I had to, firstly learn how to embrace a perfect stranger... and mean it.  something I have never been very good at, something that my sister could teach me a lot about.

but more importantly, and what would help with that is that I had to learn to have faith in someone again.  trust that they will take care of me in a difficult situation, not let me fall, and that together we can make something beautiful.  I have to learn to let go and to not be in complete control.

this is in order, of course to become a better tango dancer.

after tonight's milonga, I felt ready to throw in the hat and leave Buenos Aires a mediocre tango dancer.  that was until I realised, that perhaps I could get more from this than just a fancy gancho.  after all, there's no doubt I can do the moves, but what I realised late in the evening, is that there is something holding me back.  something key, something that if only I could unlock it, I could swing a boleo with the best of them, all the while smiling inside, while trusting in myself and my partners.

and so my homework for my last few weeks in Buenos Aires, is to learn to let go a little.  put my dancing in somebody else's charge.  and to channel my inner portena.  and perhaps to not give myself such a hard time and to just let go, stop thinking so god damn much.

from this point onwards...

just a reminder that from this point onwards, all photos that I have taken of Buenos Aires are with an excellent touch screen camera.  however, the excellent touch screen is completely broken and therefore I can neither see what I am taking a picture of (no view finder), see the result of my photography until I get home and upload it, nor change the setting from the rather romantic setting that it must have been set to at the time that it was broken.

an old school approach which I am quite enjoying.  the anticipation of seeing the photographs that I have taken that day is uplifting.

it has become a bit of a project to see how good my guess work is.  and to be honest, I am really enjoying it.  some of the shots have come out quite well to boot.

the outside wall of the zoo

at the eye hospital

this afternoon I was telling my friend that the same thing had happened to me ten years ago.

then this evening, I started laughing out loud to myself on the bus, like a mad woman.  I realised that it was in fact twenty two years ago when I woke up in my sleeping bag in a tent in Poland and screamed... "I'm blind!" (a simple mosquito bite on the eyelid can be quite a shock when it means you can't open your eye).

it's amazing when you realise how much time flies, how could I mistake ten years for twenty two?  clearly I have been having a lot of fun...

quite unexpectedly...

... I find myself at the foothills of the Andes.

here I am in prime wine country in Mendoza, Argentina and I have decided to forego the wines for a once in a lifetime drive down route 7 through the spectacular mountain range.

whilst the Andes were breathtaking, and the Inca Bridge spectacular, the highlight of the day was the lunch we had at about nine thousand feet above sea level.  I was invited to sit at a table with a lovely couple from Patagonia and a couple from Rosario.  the lovely gentleman offered me wine, and we sat and talked, surrounded by the Andes, about our favourite tipples and our origins.  our thoughts about our surroundings and of course the food and wine.

sharing food and wine with complete strangers, who offer so much generosity is one of my favourite things about being away and sightseeing.

it was a lovely way to warm up, in what felt like sub zero temperatures.  the wind had been whistling around us and the blazer I was wearing, was just not doing what it needed to.  but the conversation and laughter certainly did.

photo, courtesy of my lovely friend Aude...

a day in sunny Buenos Aires...

yesterday I woke up not feeling myself.  perhaps the full moon, perhaps the not knowing of what I'm going to do next after Buenos Aires.

but I decided to take the proactive approach and have myself a nice day.  the sun had just started shining and I decided to have myself a little stroll around Buenos Aires.

first stop was a little stroll down the road to the Floralis General.  what has now become the symbol of Buenos Aires.  a giant water lily made from metal.  standing delicately in a pool of still water in the middle of a park next to an imposing university building.

next stop was a short walk to the cemetery of Recoletta.  this rich, ostentatious cemetery houses the elite of Buenos Aires, and much to their disgust, Eva Peron.  presidents, scientists and families of the rich.  their place in society as important in death as in life.

eva peron's grave was much more understated than I had imagined it would be.  half way down a small "street" and easy to miss.  but what I didn't miss, was the tomb of the Polish soldiers.  a "humble" tomb in comparison, all black, with just the white eagle and a commemorative plaque to distinguish it.  but her they were, in amongst the elite of the portenos.




from here I walked down avenida alvear, the bond street of Buenos Aires, but more like park lane in its grandeur.  ralph lauren's store is just a small example of the wealth that this city once had, and now that the elite enjoy.

of course I popped in and had a look around... and didn't buy anything.  it's ralph lauren after all...




from here I kept walking to comme il faut, the manolo blahnik of the tango shoe world.  when you ring the bell to the boutique and wait expectantly, a small hatch opens in the door to see who they are letting in.  I passed the test.  inside the sales assistants show you to a seat and unusually you realise that there are no shoes out on display.  they protect their designs furiously.

so you are asked what you are looking for and they start to bring you boxes and boxes of shoes to choose from.  a lovely concept, although this works better if you are the kind of person who knows what you want, and not what you don't want...  I like to be inspired.  but inspired I was.  and I bought myself a beautiful pair of peep toe, t-bar, double ankle strap black leather shoes.  stunning, although I will later be told by my tango teacher, that "Lauri" they are too high for dancing!!!  so, to keep or not to keep, that is the question...

onwards, to avenida nueve de julio, the widest street in the world (I believe), fourteen lanes of traffic with a giant obelisco in the centre, big, white and pointy...  symbolising???

here I find teatro colon, a monster of a theatre, built in the 1800s and still to this day, with no modern technology apparently has the fifth best acoustics in the world.  they even have a chandelier that weighs one tonne in the theatre itself that can house musicians and singers inside...!!!

   


and last stop on my fun filled day, was a double tango lesson.  where despite my frustration from my performances at friday night's milonga and saturday afternoon's practice, I did rather well.  it's coming along nicely.

an angel's life was at stake...

in my tango class yesterday, when I kept apologising for getting things wrong, my teacher told me that every time I made a mistake... an angel dies.

harsh.

needless to say, I danced a lot better after that...

rent boy...

he was tall, dark and no doubt handsome in his day.

on my second night in Buenos Aires, I had hired myself the services of Eduardo for the night.  if I though too much about the fact that I was to pay for our taxi, for his drinks and entrance into the milonga, it would, quite frankly, have creeped me out.  so I chose not to think about it.

the private lesson I had booked that night, reminded me so much of a classic movie scene... "boom boom, boom boom..." (girls, you know what I mean).

the skill that will make me the tango dancer that I so crave is the ability to relax.  this keeps coming up in the lesson.  so of course, I try to relax.  but trying to relax, it turns out, is quite stressful and counterproductive.  and what surprises me is that I am really not very good at it.  which makes me all the more tense because I know that it will hold me back.

he talks to me about the importance of calm, we sit and we listen to the music and discuss how it makes us feel.  we then try to interpret that feeling into our dance.  all the while trying to relax of course.

when we stop and he places a hand on my shoulders with the gentlest of touches, it sends tears rushing to my eyes and a lump in my throat from nowhere.  all of a sudden I am now also suppressing emotions that I didn't know I had had locked up inside me.  but also trying to relax.

reflecting now, I realise that had I felt comfortable enough to cry on his shoulders it may well have been the best tango ever danced, so raw with emotion it would have been.

but then, I'm not sure that that was what this rent boy had bargained for, however much I had paid him.

tango taxi dancers: milongas are complicated, you can't ask a man to dance, you have to wait to be asked.  and if you are not very good, well they just won't ask you.  so tango taxi dancers will dance with you all night so you can enjoy the milonga and improve your dancing.  
www.tangotaxidancers.com/

behind the scenes

at the convent in Vitoria

vitoria convent

map of brazil by laura sawyer 2011

I was asked by a friend to put a map together of where I had been on my trip.  so here is Brazil.

you'll see that it wasn't the best planned trip, a little bit of a mess, but it was fun anyway.

i) flight from London to Belo Horizonte, via Rio

ii) flight from Belo Horizonte north to Salvador

iii) local bus from Salvador north to Itacimirim

iv) flight from Salvador south to Rio

v) bus from Rio north to Belo Horizonte

vi) bus from Belo Horizonte east to Vitoria

vii) bus from Vitoria north to Porto Seguro, via Guriri

viii) boat from Porto Seguro to Arrail d'Ajuda

ix) boat back to Porto Seguro

x) flight from Porto Seguro to Campo Grande via Belo Horizonte and Sao Paolo

xi) minibus from Campo Grande into the Pantanal (boat, horse, foot etc)

xii) minibus back out to Campo Grande 

xiii) bus south to Igazu

xix) bus over the border to Argentina

brazil, the final frontier

I met a guy who was describing the Iguazu falls to somebody as breath taking, I had to disagree with him.  it's just not the right phrase.  it's mind blowing, it's awe inspiring, it's humbling.  perhaps it also takes your breath away, but this is not enough.  it suggests to me a kind of romantic experience.  but this was truly a force much greater than that.

I had a wonderful photograph that I took of myself.  I was standing under one of the falls on the brazilian side, white plastic poncho pulled tight around me, even with the hood up.  my hair was soaking wet and the camera lens inevitably had water droplets all over it.  but as I stood there getting drenched, I had the widest grin slapped on my face that I have ever seen.  eyes all tightly squinted up to stop the water getting in.

the photograph really depicted the feelings of elation that I have felt on this trip.  when I have been alone and happy to be experiencing these things for myself.  it truly was an amazing feeling.  I can remember it so clearly, and I wish I could have shown it to you.  but perhaps, as one friend said, this moment wasn't for sharing.  perhaps this one just stays clearly in my head, and perhaps you can imagine the feeling I had, and recognise it in my eyes next time you see me...

photo shy?

the brazilians?  I think not...

humbled

on the tube in Buenos Aires you will often be left a slip of paper on your lap or bag by a passing person in need, asking for money.

today a lady tried to leave such a slip explaining her disability on my lap, I declined.

but then I watched as two young boys, who couldn't have been more than ten or eleven, read the slip and reach into their pockets for their ben ten style wallets.  they then both took out a coin each and handed their pocket money to the lady.  unprompted, with no parents telling them to do so.

well, I felt rather heartless after that.  but what a wonderful sight.

the beach of Guriri

photo shoot - vitoria

quote of the day

"...if you have a nightmare, doesn't mean you stop dreaming."  Jill Scott

can't explain from the album beautifully human

this one's for you little one...

I thought of you all day anticipating the courageous activity that I was about to undertake.  the boat carried us through the still water that now flooded the Pantanal.  I caught my first glimpse of them through the foliage on the bank.  they seemed calm, resting in the shade, but their strong muscles were pronounced in the dappled light.  their lack of movement that much more intimidating, just the occasional swish of their tails.  as the boat drew closer I realised that there was no turning back.  it was finally time to face my fear.  if the little one can do it, they why can't I?

she was lovely, possibly the nicest acquaintance I have made on my journey so far.  chilled out, slightly lazy, but in a good way.  we never went faster than a trott and even then she didn't manage it for longer than about ten or twenty seconds.  but she made me feel welcome and at ease.  at best I thought I would realise that it wasn't as scary as all that.  but it turned out that I actually enjoyed it and I want to do it all over again.  a lifelong fear finally overcome.

perhaps the little one will take me horse riding when I get back and we can see about getting up to a gentle canter, with maybe a lasso in one hand, gaucho style...

david attenborough eat your heart out

I saw the most amazing wildlife in the Pantanal.  whist I do not have my photos left, consider it your homework to look up these animals, some of the many I saw...

birds (to name but a few)
jabiru stork
great rhea (ostrich)
macaw parrots, red ones, blue ones, yellow ones
toucans
ibis
vultures and eagles

animals
howler monkeys, hiding up in the trees
capibara, the worlds largest rat
peccary pig
tapir! one of the five least spotted animals in the pantanal
giant anteater, with its big bushy tail, right up close
armadillo
water buffalo, a whole herd of them cooling off up to their necks in water
ginger racoon

reptiles
false anaconda
caiman alligators, two kinds
lizard

I actually waded out across a flooded river, waist high in water, camera safely held above my head in one hand, guide's hand held in a vice like grip in the other, all to see the howler monkeys.  I had heard them howling every morning and wanted to see what creatures could make such a racket.

I borrowed the above photos from these websites, thank you.
http://www.birdseyeviewbelize.com/home.htm - jabiru stork
http://www.houstonzooblogs.org/zoo/tag/giant/ - giant anteater
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news - howler monkey
http://www.proprofs.com/flashcards/cardshowall.php?title=los-animales-animals - caiman
http://animal.discovery.com/mammals/armadillo/ - armadillo

PS I'll tell you something cool, I was just trying to find the proper name for the ginger racoon on google and when I googled Pantanal, my blog came up twice!  how cool is that???

superlative sunset

as we made the approach to the pousada the sun was setting slowly over the floodwater.  the still water was mirror like reflecting the ever changing colours of the sky.  as the motor boat carried us through the long grasses and past the submerged trees, I couldn't help but feel so small in such a vast space.

where roads would normally be, with jeeps carrying tens upon tens of tourists into the wilderness, there was only water.  the boat sent soft ripples into the glass carpet, as our speed accelerated the splashes from the bow were like tiny shards shattering into the sunset.  the occasional dorado or alligator were our only company on the half hour journey.

comfort zone apology

I'd like to put the alligators into more context.

anyone who I've told to put themselves out of their comfort zone, you know who you are, I'm sorry.

my first night in the wilderness I was way out of mine.  we were told after dinner to be ready in five minutes for a night walk.  no clear instructions were given, but what the hell.  so on went the shorts, the insect repellent and away we went under the blanket of stars that I was privilege to in this part of the world.  so many starts in the sky that it was hard to pick out the constellations.  although, as ever, Orion was there watching over me, and did you know, or even consider that the lough would be upside down here?

the small boat with the outboard engine took us to one of the only pieces of dry land left after the floods in the Pantanal.  we stepped out onto the bank and almost immediately bare foot into the water that we needed to cross that was once a road.

I was so buy concerning myself with the amount of insects buzzing around me and in the beam of light from the guide's torch that I almost didn't notice that in the water just a foot from where I was standing bare foot and bare legged there was an alligator!  there it was, all one and half metres of him starting back at us.

the guide then shone his flashlight in the direction that we were headed and I could see at least four airs of eyes shining back at us.  what the hell am I doing here?  I thought to myself.  I would mutter this many times over the course of the night.  for example when he pointed out the baby piranhas at his feet, the false anaconda and when he picked up a baby alligator and I actually stroked it!

and apparently tomorrow we will be going tubing!  what the hell am I doing here???

journey into the wilderness

ok, I'm going to use an alien subject here for my analogy for the boys amongst you.

for my journey into the Pantanal I had an amazing front row seat in a mini bus all to myself.  the first wildlife I saw was only half an hour into my nine hour journey.  so let's just say that it was like a goal in the first minute of a football match.  only it was the most amazing goal ever and it was your team that scored.  only your team was like oxford united or something.  and you were playing a super team made up of all the best players in the world (I won't try to name any).  a minute later your team scores again, and it was even better than the first and so on for the rest of the match.  only it didn't get boring as you got to ten nil in the first half, because you knew that this match would go down in history, forever.

the first thing that I saw was on my way from campo grande into the Pantanal.  they were in a field with cattle.  two ostriches (I later discover they are rea)!  this blew me away... at the time.  as eight hours and three modes of transport later, our four by four approached another ostrich and we ended up having a race with it!  it ran right along beside my open window at about fifty miles an hour!

the second thing I saw was an eagle, and I don't just mean that it was hovering above the road, no it flew right down to my eye level and landed in a tree, I was in awe, but it would happen another two times on my journey.

the third thing that I saw (I won't mention the many storks and herons along the way), was a two metre tall stork!  seriously!!!  it was the Jabiru stork and is the symbol of the Pantanal.  and it can fly!  I later see the beast overhead.  apparently they need a big run up...

later that day...  a lizard about a foot long, some deer, a ginger racoon with a stripy tail, a herd of water buffalo cooling off in the swamp and of course alligators...

forty one hours later...

I am sipping a capirinha, feeding the mosquitos in the depths of the Pantanal.

my luggage looked laughable, hilarious in fact, sitting elegantly on the dirt track leading into the Pantanal.  in all its black and clean samsonite beauty, the backpacked leaving, looked on at it in bemusement as their jeep drove past.

what is it...

what is it about deer crossing signs that get us manically looking out of the window for deer.  do we do the same with cows or ducks?

solitude in Guriri

calm.

a beach, infinite.

sand course underfoot.

an odd set of footprints that lead nowhere.

a solitary long line fisherman.

an abandoned canoe.

crabs darting in and out of their sand holes.

the coast is mine, and mine alone.

a deep breath.

tranquility.

calm.

solitude.

waiter waiter perculator

an inspirational choice by my father...

what my iTunes was missing for my trip was some classical music.  so I asked him to put me together a play list for me to upload.  as ever, we went over and above.

I am enjoying discovering the pieces he selected for me as my iPhone shuffles its way past all the jills, stevies and als.  this was truly inspired, have a listen, I think you'll like it...

java jive - the manhattan transfer

during the day

the town of Guriri has the slightly sad feeling of a seaside town out of season.

the tourists are gone now that the autumn weather has dropped to a chilly twenty eight degrees centigrade and carnival has been and gone.

the souvenir shops seem to open and close as I approach and pass by.

the yellow plastic chairs are almost all empty in the evening, reminiscent of the holocaust memorial in Krakow.  many more chairs remain stacked high, suggestive of a popular holiday destination in the summer months.

the locals however remain friendly and inviting.  curious of their out of season tourist (who is neither american nor german).

I hate yellow plastic chairs

from where I sit right now, I can count seven establishments with yellow plastic chairs outside, mine not included.

I remember in Salvador, on our last night, my only request for where to eat was somewhere without yellow plastic chairs!!!

what a snob...

in search of turtles

from Vitoria I went up the coast in search of turtles...

the coach took me up the coast by night.  the sky was unpolluted by light and the scorpion constellation watched over me the whole way.  we drove through a small town as a funeral procession was walking through the streets.  they carried candles and seemed to be singing.  the road ahead of them was dotted with people, seemingly waiting to join the procession.

I arrived in Guriri late and settled into a hotel with sea views and a pool.

I could have sat and watched the turtles swimming all afternoon.  as they glide through the water, the clumsiness of their leathery, hard fin like legs, seems to melt away, making them so calming and tranquil to watch.

their home near the beach, is sadly not the open water.  for these turtles, their home is the sanctuary that I came to visit.

thank you

it's time to move on.

we tried not to make a big deal out of our time coming to an end.  but I couldn't help feeling emotional.  the next leg of my adventure had to start sometime and here it was.

it was wonderful to spend such quality time with my best friend and to get to know her two boys so well.  I feel privileged to have been able to help her move and settle into her beautiful new home.  I know that she will be happy there and when I see her parents, her brothers and sisters, her friends, I will be able to tell them how good her life is and will be.

so I will take this opportunity to say that I love her so much and I am thankful for her friendship and love.  she was my excuse to start this adventure and for that I will be eternally grateful.  I don't think she realises how important her role was and how good the time together has been for me.

thank you Adela, for everything.

xxx

favourite photo - Salvador

preparations for Salvador carnival

grave loss...

the first thing that happened to me this weekend, as many of you will already know is that my handbag was stolen.

in a way I wish I could write about an exciting chase scene that ensued, or dangerous situations under which it happened.

but the reality was that I was having a very posh cupcake in Buenos Aires and a pretty decent cup of tea.  which is perhaps why I let my defences down and did not notice it happening.

anyway, in my handbag, along with many other things, were all of my photos from my trip.  I have a few left on here as drafts that I had uploaded, but many have gone.  so the last few posts of brazil will tax my writing abilities to describe some of the beautiful shots that I had taken.

but this is just stuff, and I have my memories.  it's just a shame that the marathon slide show I was planning on my return for you all, will now have a large chunk missing.  and for this I know you will be mortified.

amazingly, laptopgate was carried out without a shred (poetic license, powder and lipliner on my cheeks only) of make up applied to my face because this was in my bag also.  who knew I could survive two days without make up!  from every experience we learn something about ourselves...

good bye Anna...

this is a man's world...

although I still owe a number of blogs from Brazil I just had to jump forward a few weeks and share with you two thiings that happened this weekend.

you sould know that I am now in Buenos aires, only the chicest city in latin America.

the second thing that happened this weekend…

my family very kindly shipped out my laptop to me.  but frustratingly, in more ways than one, it got stuck at customs.  last week I tried twice to retrieve it, but with argentine beaurocracy the way it is, my attempts were in vain.

so this morning I set out to collect it.  here’s how my day went, bare with me, it's a long one but quick…

 ..................................................

I got the subway to the dhl office in centro, which I am now quite familiar with, having been there twice last week.  I presented my passport that this time I had brought with me.  without it I would not be given the paperwork I required to free the incarcerated laptop.

I paid two hundred and sixty pesos and got my first set of forms…  my first.

I was told that I then had to go  to customs at the international airport.  the minibus I had been told I could catch failed to show, so I hailed a taxi.

the taxi dropped me at the customs security where I paid the one hundred and twenty pesos for the ride.

at the security gate I presented my passport again, and got a slip.

this slip I showed to the second security guard at the turnstyle.

I then proceeded to the  office.  here I showed my paperwork and my passport again.  the lady advised me that I needed to take a numbered ticket and wait my turn.  those of you who are familiar with the classic movie beetlejuice will remember the scene that sprung to mind.  my number was number one and the screen showed three hundred and ninety nine…

when my turn eventually came up, I entered office number two where I showed my passport and paperwork.  this was copied and stamped and I was given a new form, which I duly signed.

this I was told I needed to take to office number one.  at office number one I was seen by one young fellow, to whom I showed my passport and documents.  I then was redirected to an older gentleman who asked me to return in fifeteen minutes.  

cigarette.

back in office number one the older fellow asked me to wait a few more minutes.  then he checked my paperwork, signed it, stamped it and gave me some new sheets and asked me to go to office three.

at office three I showed my paperwork and was asked to accompany the gentleman to office four.

at office four my package was retrieved, opened and checked, presumably for contraband items that my parents were likely to include in the package.  the package was closed and retaped shut with a different colour tape.  it had obviously already been opened at some point.

I then returned with the fellow to office three where he asked me about my entrance into argentina and asked me to sign some new forms and take them to office two again.

this time I jumped the queue and went straight to the smoke filled office and to the slightly aged looking lady.  here she checked the paperwork, signed it, I signed it and she copied it and added more pages.

yes you’ve guessed it, she then asked me to return to office one… by this point I am giggling…

at office one I see the young fellow again after waiting in line patiently.  to him I pay one hundred and eighty pesos, all the while praying that after all this, my credit card has not been blocked.  once the payment had been made, he asked me to go to see his older colleague, the same one that had asked me to wait before.

here he gives me some paperwork and…. sends me back to office three!!!  at office three he gives me a piece of red paper which he tells me I must guard with my life and sends me back to office one…

I go back to office one where he stamps and checks all of the papers, keeps them all except the red one I am guarding with my life and sends me to office four to collect my parcel…

but by this point, you can imagine, I can't believe it is this easy.   so I join another queue at office four and wait to see what happens next.  but I am approached and told that I can go straight to the window for my parcel.

package in hand, I look around somewhat confused.  surely this isn't it.  surely there is another stage to all of this.  but I head towards the exit and of course there is one last thing to do.  I meet security and they ask me for the red paperwork.  

I am now back in a taxi, laptop in hand and typing this, watching the metre run up beyond eighty five pesos…

 ..................................................

number of times I showed my passport - five

number of times I entered an office - fourteen

number of pesos spent - too many

at the zoo

 

the aviary and zoo at santa teresa

santa teresa flora

more favourites from santa teresa

even more kissing flowers...

favourite photos - santa teresa

hummingbirds in the park

email to my mama...

dear mama

on thursday I planned to go out to this pretty little village called santa teresa about 2 hours inland from here in Vitoria, it's an old italian settlement, just up my street.  the guide book promised hummingbirds so I was off!  but I waited almost an hour for my bus to take me to the coach station and by the time I got there the next bus wasn't until 11:40 so it just didn't make sense to go.  the universe telling me it wasn't time.  I was a little disappointed, but I went to the beach instead with Junior and the boys, which was lovely.

yesterday, I tried again, and oh my god, was it worth it!?!  such a beautiful little town.  it has a lovely park with an aviary, where I saw parrots, one of which ACTUALLY SPOKE!  I guess you just don't believe that until you really hear it. I saw snakes and monkeys and toucans (which were much smaller than I imagined).  and just as I was heading to the turtles on my way to the hummingbird observation point, a hummingbird darted out infront of me and started eating from the flowers just by my side.  I got so emotional, and said out loud "oh there you are" and literally had tears in my eyes and throat.  it was so amazing.

when I got up to the viewing point I couldn't believe it.  they had a few bottles hanging up with what must have been some kind of sugar water inside and tens of hummingbirds hovering around and buzzing around my head drinking from the bottles.  I stood there for about half an hour to take it all in.  in portuguese they are called Flower Kissers (i think it might be the same in italian), so cute!

miss you.

buzi laura xxx

innocence - vitoria

the gringo girl with attitude...

I arrive at Vitoria bus station and find the taxi rank.  picture the scene, a small bus station, my coach pulled in briefly and has already left, not another one to be seen, but yet ten taxi drivers, sitting around having a natter...

so I give the group of gossiping men my friend's address and the one they describe as the "fat one", drives me.  her road looks lovely, very safe and homely. but knowing that I have some time to kill before they catch up with me on the road from Belo Horizonte, I ask "the fate one" to take me to a pizzeria, somewhere near the beach would be nice, I tell him.

I am very much enjoying my stilted conversation with my waiter, my guarana and my dictionary and am just tucking into my pizza when, bizaarly I hear my name.  I turn around and see a smiling woman with relief in her eyes, her two young daughters behind her.

I soon realise that this is Adela's sister in law.  she kindly went to the bus station to collect me, when I wasn't there, she panicked and asked the taxi drivers if they had seen a girl with short blonde hair?

the taxi drives, realising they could help said "you mean the gringo girl with attitude?".

I am told that his translates in a positive way in Portuguese, at least I hope so...

train whistle blowing...

I was up at the crack of dawn and headed for the train station.  it sounded like it would be such a romantic journey.  a forteen and a half hour train ride across the Brazilian countryside to the coast, one of the few train lines in Brazil.

the last of the boxes had been packed and I was to meet adela and the family in Vitoria.  the car wasn't quite big enough for the two boys, me and the doblerman.  the dog took priority.

I needed to be there early to buy my ticket and to not miss the only train of the day (of every day) at 7:30 am.

the sun was shining down on the never ending queue of people wanting to buy tickets and I patiently and excitedly joined the back. how very English of me!

the queue seemed to be moving quite fast although only two of the four counters were open.  something I couldn't quite get my head around as the station is only essentially open for 2 hours a day. 

so it came as a bit of a surprise when I witnessed the conflicting messages in front of me.  the ticket office was still issuing tickets, as the guards pulled the wrought iron gates closed and chained and padlocked them shut, whilst the train pulled away into the distance. 

I felt particularly bad for the old couple who immediately after buying their tickets had to rejoin the queue to get a refund.

so much for my romantic Chanel No.5 train journey dream, with me as Audrey Tautou.  but hey, this air conditioned coach could work too...

favourite photo - Belo Horizonte

the market in Belo Horizonte

quite a little adventure...

adela was pleased with my packing efforts so granted me a day off.

I headed out to see some of Oscar Niemayer's architecture.  of the architecture I had seen so far, I really liked what he does.  the guy is one hundred and two years old and still designing!

so I jump on the bus and head out in my best sight seeing gear.  cute white skirt, vest top, black havaianas and bug eye sunglasses of course. 

the bus takes a regional route, snaking its way through the streets of the nearby towns.  as we climb further up the hills of Belo the rain starts to fall, and fall it really does.

I have managed to befriend the bus driver and conductor.  and they suggest that I wait at the end of the line with them as they prepare the bus for their next journey.  by then the rain would have passed, or so they say.  but in actual fact the rain falls heavier than ever, and vaste rivers have formed on either side of the carriageway. 

the bus driver and conductor switch with the next shift, who I also manage to befriend, in my desperate bid to stay dry and not see through!  they tell me that they will drive me to the nearest taxi rank.  so I hitch a lift with a bus driver and four conductors.  all the while answering questions about the rain in england, manchester united and what I am doing in brazil.

we snake the streets some more, and the rain does not let up.  eventually I jump out in my white skirt and hop over the rain rivers in my flip flops to the nearest taxi.

he drops me at the church on the lake, which I think is stunning.  the roof curves beautifully over the church mirroring the water line of the lake.

at this point the skies seem to be clearing and I glimpse blue chinks above me.  so I decide to head on out to the museum of modern art, that Oscar also designed.  my guide book tells me that this is just opposite the church on the other side of the lake.  what it doesn't tell me is quite how big the lake is...

when I eventually manage to hail a taxi, I watch as the metre creeps up and up.  with no museum in sight I start to pànic.  I only have fifty reales in my purse, the metre is at twenty five already and I still have to get back to the bus stop and then back to the centre of town, some forty minutes away, let alone pay to get into the museum...

I tell a little white lie and say to the lovely taxi driver that I only have twenty five on me, which quite unsurprisingly by brazilian standards, he tells me that it is no problem at all, that would do.

the museum is mildly disappointing, especially after the drama of my journey here, and knowing that I still have to get back to adela and juniors, preferably before sunset...

oh and did I mention that I had run out of credit on my classy pay as you go mobile?  otherwise I could have just phoned junior for a lift I guess...  but I also didn't want to be beaten.

the museum staff tell me that there are no buses nearby and I would need to walk a little bit down the road.

I should mention that the brazilians have no sense of distance.  I guess because their country is so big, but they will always say, oh it is just down the road...

the bus stop turned out to be about a forty five minute walk.  fortunately the rain had stopped so the skirt wasn't going to become see-through.  all I wanted to do at this point was jump in a cab, but remember that I only have twenty five reales left in my purse at this point and I was about another forty five minutes from home...

eventually I found a bus stop on a very busy highway and tried to make myself understood when I explained where I was going.

I have to say that I love the brazilians, they will go out of their way to help you.  I was told when to get off, then I was walked to the bus stop some four blocks away by a very sweet young man, was left with some more helpful and friendly brazilians who made sure I got on the right bus, then again explaining where I was going, was helped off the bus again, and walked to the right road by a lovely lady.

I eventually made it home just as the sun was setting over Belo Horizonte.  I was very proud of myself for making it home on my own, without having to put junior out and ask for a lift, and without getting stuck in the outskirts of a city I did not know without a penny to my name.

a stroll around Belo Horizonte

mid week through all of the packing of boxes I felt I deserved a short break.  so I went to explore the city of Belo Horizonte.

adela and junior were impressed with how beautiful I was able to make the city look.

in actual fact I think it had a certain amount of urban charm, but don't tell adela I said that...

back to belo

from Rio I head back to Adela's for some quality time together.  

she assures me that the city does not have a lot to offer and that I would be much happier staying in with her helping her pack boxes in preparation for her move to Vitoria.  I am looking forward to discovering it for myself... if she lets me out of course!

my journey from Rio to Belo is the most comfortable I have ever been.  step aside Virgin Upper!  executive brazilian coaches are the way to go!

rules of the road - Brazil

- at night do not stop at a red light, just roll on through

- don't slow down for pedestrians, although they won't get out of the way, somehow you just won't hit them

- use as many lanes as you need

- if you realise you need to turn left or right, just do it, no need to check for traffic or slow down

- you can drive the wrong way up a one way street as long as you reverse the whole way

the Brazilian pedicure

like the wax, the Brazilians like to take off a little more than we do...  the cuticle clippng was, one could say, agressive? 

fortunately the nail varnish colour that I had chosen matched the colour of the damage done around my nails perfectly...



does this make me less of a traveller?

catching a cab to the coach terminal, not a bus.

storing my luggage so that I don't have to wheel my trolley dolly behind me for 3 hours.

getting a pedicure whilst I wait for my coach to leave...

santa teresa favelas

leaving lapa... again

it seems that Christo agrees with me, after ten minutes and one guarana of sitting by the beach, admiring the volleyballs and sand art, it starts to rain.  so I head back up to Santa Teresa.

this time I will take more notice of the advice from the cariocas, especially as Lapa has come alive since I was frog marched out.

as the bus passes through, a scuffle breaks out in front of us.  to the left there is a mini blocco that looks slightly out of control.  so as I disembark, I walk purposefully towards the rattling furnicular railway making its way up the steep hills of Santa Teresa.  I really want to experience the hopping off and hopping on for myself.

but Lapa had other plans.  as I approached the station, the busy dual carriageway became more and more deserted.  I started to question my decision as I could see, what can only be described as loony street men lining the path that I needed to take.

so I turned on my heels and retraced my steps, the friendly street sellers that I had asked for directions moments before, looked at me in bemusement.  I explained, in my basic Portuguese, that I would take a taxi instead.  and she replied, "yes, that´s better".

reassured by my decision not to get attached or mugged or at the very least harrassed, I jumped in a cab along the tram lines.  which if I squinted really hard and opened the window wide, could almost very nearly, but not quite at all, be the same as the tram journey.  almost...

please leave lapa

when I then head down to Lapa to see what it´s like during the day, I see yet more cool grafitti as well as an old aquaduct rising above the mess that is Lapa.

I am merrily snapping away, capturing the grafitti and colourful buildings, although fortunately not the mediocre sounds of hymns coming from a beautifully colourful blue and yellow church, when I am approached by a man. 

he tells me that it is not safe for me here.  I thank him and move on, all the while being sensible and aware of my surroundings.  but not feeling unsafe.  it is not long before I am approached again and told by another man that it is dangerous for me here.

so at this point I decide to make my way out of the area, not knowing entirely of course where I am.  which must have shown despite my best efforts, as I was approached for the third and final time by an off duty policeman who insists on walking me to the bus stop for my own safety.  so I was essentially escorted off the premises of Lapa!

I was disappointed as my bus took me down to the chic but arogant copacobana.  we pass the sugar loaf mountain in all its glory and memories and I get off the bus wondering what I will do next.

rio by day...

the following day I was up with the birds and monkeys and went for a wander up the hill into Santa Teresa.

I realise I have become obsessed with Brazil´s grafitti.  I make slow progress on the walk up the hill as I can´t help but stop and snap the walls and even lamp posts of street art.

the tiny squirrel like monkeys watch on with confusion from their look out points on telegraph poles, and wonder what the hell this blonde woman is doing.