Sydney - Your Saturday best - 7 years of sin and sensation (part 2)

Sydney (Australia)
26 April 2013

In the last few weeks I've taken to scheming once again, scheming and hatching plans. And why is that you ask? Because I'm restless, because 'wanderlust' for me is more than a word and is about as integral to my daily living requirements as caffeine, fibre and vitamin D. Sometimes I don't even understand how some of these plans present themselves in my mostly occupied mind, take the 'Osaka whimsy' for example. I was sitting at home reading the paper one Sunday morning, beams of sunlight from a beautiful April morning cutting strips across the pages of print in my hands and then BAM-O! In a flash of either genius, insanity or perhaps both I just thought 'Osaka!..yeah, I think there's good food there, maybe I should go!' ...and that was it! Sometimes the want of my own discovery is as simple as a flash of inspiration and a heavy dose of perserverence in order to be able to get me there. So Osaka? A place that is probably everything that I never knew that I wanted! And also a story that is waiting to be written another day because it's on standby, moments waiting to be lived out a few months away from where we are now, and this entry on the contrary is part of a series dedicated to the last 7 years.

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Today I'm starting off my trip down travel lane with  a nod of the the head to those lengthy journeys where it was 'better to travel hopefully than to arrive'. An idiom that I've kindly borrowed which suggests that sometimes the process of travel should be enjoyed in equal equivalence to, or perhaps even with more anticipation than that which exists for the arrival at your chosen destination.

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The top 5 '...ummm, how did you get there?'

This top 5 is dedicated to those journeys where brain cells were forever lost, sanity was checked at the counter never to be seen again and patience was erased from the turbid sea of resilience by the subtle brush strokes of time.

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1. La Paz (Bolivia) to Buenos Aires (Argentina) - 2010 - Overland bus (60hrs) - You read that duration correctly by the way! It was 2.5 days locked into the one seat on the same bus. Intermittent stops made only for 20min refreshment breaks and an achingly long lunch stop somewhere in Northern Argentina in the final 12hr stretch. But how you ask? But why even? All pertinent questions, so let me answer them below.

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Back in 2010 I'd taken an extended break from everything and was living out an age old dream of mine which was to travel South America with no planned agenda, just to take it as it presented itself, but then came the WildRover Hostel 'incident' which can be read here - You've got what you're worth and also here - Shaken not stirred - La Paz to Buenos Aires, it was a 'happening' where my wallet was ever so elegantly lifted from my bag whilst I was out of the room and without going into those specifics let me fill you in on what happened next.
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I had decided to take the cheapest  travel option back to Buenos Aires as I the wallet lifting escapade meant that I was preparing to head back home. The cheapest option out of La Paz to BA was a $100USD bus ride through the wilds of the altiplano, into Northern Argentina and then south east to Buenos Aires on the Rio de la Plata.

Somewhere between La Paz and the border - high on the altiplano - Bolivia
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Now bus rides don't harm me, I can switch off my internal systems and dose away those bland and boring hours on the road quite easily. In instances where mere mortals tend to 'lose the plot' I'm happily off in my slumber world, oblivious to anything but the creation of images and dreams that meld with the relentless hum of tyres on bitumen and the relentless rocking of the transporation chariot. On this trip however I broke down, I became 'one of those' people that get overwhelmed by cabin fever and there was nothing that I could do to reign in the internal carnage.
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What broke me however was not the 3hrs in took to cross the border at Villazon, the same one that I had walked across a month earlier in under 10mins, nor was it the 14yr old kid that kept leaning on my shoulder right through the second night trying to find a comfortable position for his head, nor was it the constant police stops in Argentina and requests for me to produce my passport every few hours, BUT, what flipped me out was the fact that our scheduled time of arrival was meant to be 10hrs earlier than when we actually arrived AND the fact that it felt as if the speed that we were doing from the border all the way down to Buenos Aires was never more than 40kph! I absolutely lost my shit!!! I started hitting windows, hitting seats, swearing out loud every now and then, there was just nothing to control that internal fury of being locked up in this tin can without knowing when the end would appear.

Rainy day in Buenos Aires - Argentina

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2. Gibbon Experience - Bokeo Province - near Huay Xai (Laos) - 2009 - Huay Xai is a two street town that lies on the Lao bank of the Mekong  which itself acts as the Lao/Thai border in the north-west part of the country. Getting there by road or water is a long proposition, so we elected to fly in from Vientiane, a 2.5hr flight with 'Air Maybe' from the capital - Air Maybe - The Gibbon Experience. From Huay Xai it was then a 2-3hr right on the back of a truck to a small village outpost that was overun with chickens, stray cows and all other things related to this particular version of the 'Lao farming Disneyland', and then to get to the 'huts in the sky' it was a 6hr walk across the smoke and haze riddled jungles of the remote Bokeo province.

'Air Maybe' - safely on the ground Huay Xai - Lao PDR

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This place is fairly remote. I mean if you sustained a serious injury whilst out in the jungle then you would be in a fair amount of trouble. Getting back to the small town of Huay Xai was difficult enough but needing to be evacuated anywhere else? Well, thankfully it didn't occur, we all survived our food poisoning with Lao parasites that we'll carry for life and we'll remember a journey into the back of nowhere.

The two street town of Huay Xai - Lao PDR

Our ride - bounced from pillar to post - Bokeo Province - Lao PDR
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3. Sydney (Australia) to  Rio de Janeiro (Brasil) - 2011 - (48hrs) - I know that there's a direct way to get to South America from Sydney, I know that flying across the Pacific from Sydney is the DIRECT route and is probably something like 20hrs faster than the route we actually took, but, by the time JJ, Jet and myself had all gotten on the same page to attacking Rio for NYE the prices of direct flights were hovering in the $5K range and flights from Sydney to Dubai to Sao Paulo were in the $2700 vicinity. Do the maths on that! That's $115 per hour saved, or $115 per hour for the pain transference of not paying the additional $2300. Honestly I was ok with not having to pay the additional sum. So we busted out of Sydney on Christmas Eve, had Christmas drinks in Dubai 14hrs later, had an odd Christmas Dinner in Sao Paulo 14hrs after that and then  jumped a 4hr bus ride from Sao Paulo to Rio the following day. It was 'the long way' and then some but it did the job when it came to value - Hitting up Sampa

Dubai to Sao Paulo - only 14hrs to go! Dubai International Airport - United Arab Emirates

'Merry Freakin' Christmas Jet!!' - Frichot crashed out in the lobby of our hotel after suffering 28hrs of air travel trauma - we still had the Sao Paulo to Rio bus ride the next day! - Sao Paulo - Brasil
 

4. Stockholm (Sweden)  to Belgrade (Serbia) - 2010 - (28hrs) -  This ride was one of the most epic pieces of driving 'endurance' that I have ever been part of and had the good fortune to witness first hand. I'm not entirely sure whether it was the intention from the start or whether the competitive spirit of my cousin (Big V) just overtook all his good sense about what a 'comfortable' amount of time driving through Europe would account to but we commenced our journey from Stockholm after an afternoon/night out drinking with a friend  of the family- Gumball Rally (Part 2) - We woke up the next morning at somewhere touching 4am with dry mouths and the stench of whiskey still oozing from our pores but still harnessed the will and requisite insanity to point our vehicle south with the full intention of cutting the great continent of Europe in two.

We exited Stockholm at 5am on day one. In those next 28hrs we cut through the countries of Sweden, Denmark, Germany, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary and then finally Serbia. At a little after 9am the next day, with my cousin only having taken a 90min power nap on the backstreets of Slovakia we cruised into Belgrade triumphant, with trumpets blowing, marching bands out on parade and our car parked proudly at its destination in Topcider.

Sunset on the road - 'somewhere in Denmark'

Great Belt bridge near Odense - Denmark

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5. San Carlos de Bariloche (Argentina) to Sucre (Bolivia) - (30hrs) - For some reason this ride even now feels like a haze of early morning stops, blurry faces and the metaphorical transience of movement. I recall making port in places such as JuJuy, Villazon (and a ram shackled hostel that had a view into a mechanics workshop) and then a 5am arrival in the quaint town of Sucre which had us arriving to our hostel several hours prior to the time that out hostel could actually accommodate us and thus we find ourselves sprawled out on the couches in the common room until suitable beds were found.

Morning stop near JuJuy Argentina - It's 4am, you just 'gotta drink' after 16hrs in the saddle

The Bolivian border town of Villazon

The top 5 - 'Best sunsets'

I love an aesthetically pleasing view and additionally I adore the glorious wash of colours that comes with a sunset that decides to paint itself over the canvas that is the view that I'm appreciating. The shots below are the best sunsets I've witnessed during my travels thus far. Hopefully the shots do these places a little bit of justice.
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1. Porto Bay Hotel - Copacabana - Rio de Janeiro (Brasil) - 2012

Porto Bay hotel - Copacabana - Rio de Janeiro - Brasil

Porto Bay hotel - Copacabana - Rio de Janeiro - Brasil
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2. View from Tanjia restaurant - (Marrakech) - Morocco - 2010



Marrakech - Morocco

Marrakech - Morocco

3. The dunes of Dubai - (United Arab Emirates) - 2012

Dubai - United Arab Emirates

Dubai - United Arab Emirates

4.On the beach in Mazatlan - (Mexico) - 2011

Mazatlan - Mexico

Mazatlan - Mexico
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5. View from the Eiffel tower - Paris - (France) - 2010

Paris - France

Paris - France

Top 5 - 'You're a little bit of an idiot aren't you?'

These stories are dedicated to some of those moments where hindsight would have been the advantageous card to have been pulled from the deck prior to the moment of impact, but they are also moments where the value of the story in the present far outweighs any of the consequences suffered at the time.

1. Dicing with Yuma - 'That's the jaw of a puma around my knee right now isn't it!?' - Parque Ambue Ari - (Bolivia) - 2010 - This one takes out the title purely for the fact that there were moments of blinding flashes in my head when I thought that my being was going to be terminated on the jungle floors of the Bolivian Amazon! I always laugh when I read this entry - 3:10 Express from Yuma - because I remember the speed at which my brain was processing information regarding 'the situation' and the conversation that it was engaged in with itself in those few moments when puma jaw enveloped human leg. Reflecting on it now its quite hilarious but I recall that at the time I was doing an express sanity check that followed some logical pattern akin to the below conversation, i.e.,

Brain: Question to Henry - 'This is real, is it not?'

Henry: Answer to Brain - 'F**k, the flipped out b*tch has her mouth around my knee and is ripping into my leg with her claws! I think it's freakin' real!!!'

Brain: Follow up question - 'Huh...interesting'. Additional question. You do realise that wild animals like this can kill people, right?'

Henry: Answer to Brain - 'Yeah bro, I'm onto that caper as of right now!'

Brain: Response to Henry - 'OK, best of luck with that, I'm checking out now!'

Henry: Response to Brain - 'Ah brain, hello!? Hello!!!??!?'

When my brain checked out during that experience then I realised that there was the potential for there to be much carnage. I can only thank Ms Puma that on this day her 'moody b*tch dial' was on low otherwise you may not be reading any of this!

Big jaw, sharp teeth...around my LEG!!!!! Parque Ambue Ari - Bolivia

That's right, you eat that chicken and leave me the hell alone!

2. Smuggling goods out of a jail - San Pedro prison - La Paz - (Bolivia) - 2010 - You'll start to see a pattern with my stay in Bolivia, am just calling that out up front. Initially made globally famous by a little write up in the Lonely Planet guide for Bolivia some years back and by the name of the book from which the title of my blog entry was borrowed - Marching Powder - San Pedro prison is somewhat of an oddity. Prisoners of San Pedro pay for the privilege of staying within their walls and paying rentals on their pieces of real estate depending upon where in the prison they are located. The place operates like a small closed economy, shops, restaurants, gyms, hair dresses etc, all being operated by prisoners for prisons, within the prison. It's an interesting set up, which additionally allows for visits by tourists such as myself to help sustain and grow their little enterprises. Their main form of income by the way is not from the payment that 'we tourists' make as our 'safety assurance' on entry but rather the sell ingof cocaine base which is made in the prison.

So, the additional part of the story now logically follows. You reach the end of your tour and you're taken to a small-ish room away from all other inmates. The guide  then poses the following question, 'Would you like anything else'? It doesn't take a Nobel prize laureate to work out what this tienda  is wanting to offload. My cohorts and I quickly look at each other and just nod, 'sure' we say collectively. OK, so how many times in your life will you rack up lines inside the joint? For me I sincerely hope it's just the one time! There is more to the story however...

...Preparing to make our departure the question is then posed on whether we would enjoy taking any goods out of the prison, you know, for our own entertainment purposes. Several members of my group do so. My mind still active at this point declines the invitation but realises that it's now part of a group of people that are smuggling drugs out of a jail!.....'Ahhh F*cksicle!'...Now I don't know how many tourists get busted doing this, obviously this method is well accepted at the prison and tolerated within reason, but what happens if the guards decide to do a search? What's the bribe to be paid? What's the penalty? Can you actually get busted for taking drugs out of San Pedro? Who's backdoor bitch will I become if I stay inside? These were all questions that thankfully did not require any answering other than evening scrutiny and discussion of the event upon our successful exit.

3. Mountain biking the 'Death Road'- La Paz - (Bolivia) - 2010 -  Do you have that annoying and nagging sensation that perhaps the altitude in La Paz played a little with my ability to make rational life choices? Another unique Bolivian experience involved mountain biking down the notorious 'Death Road'. It should be known that this is the 'little boulevard' where at one point during the 80's they were clocking something close to 600 deaths per year and averaging 2 bus loses a month into the Coroico valley. These days traffic is mostly from those oddballs such as myself that feel the need to freewheel the 32kms of the Death Road and live to tell the tale,although, with that said, there was as of November 2010 (33) biking fatalities on the road. I've also included a link to the blog entry here if you want to have a read - El camino de la muerte

My little dice with the Death Road came from the relative weight of speed that I assigned to the portion of the road that I was on and the fact that rain in the previous days had turned section of the camino into mud pits. I realised how treacherous the road was 'if you weren't paying attention' when I crossed up my mountain bike prior to a turn in the road and stared into a 50mtr drop that would have had me headbutting forest floor at 100kph! Not so bad considering drop in some places are known to be 600mtrs!

The cruise before the storm - outside of La Paz - Bolivia

'The Balcony' on the Death Road - Yungas Rd - Bolivia

4. Here, have a phone, and let me pay you to take it from me! - Marrakech - (Morocco) - 2008 - Oh brother, if  this wasn't the screenplay to a C-grade horror movie then it should have been. Actually it was the exact script lifted from 'what not to do' when encountered in the exact same situation.

So I'd just taken a 6hr  ride down from Fes to Marrakech on a relatively comfortable train. The only problem being that it was 50 degrees outside and the air conditioning on the train was losing its will to live, so it was warm and the stench of Moroccan man sweat was starting to pervade all cornices of the carriage. Encountering direct sunlight and the furnace of Marrakech was a completely different proposition after the travails of the train adventure. Thankfully Marrakech presented a dry heat but it was pushing the 50 mark on the day that I arrived. I jumped a taxi from the station and took a ride to where my riad was located. Somewhere 'near' my riad the driver stopped, grunted and pointed me to 'somewhere' down the street. The entries that relate to this exercise in stupidity can be accessed here Marrakech and here Marrakech C.S.I. The short of it is that I asked a 'random' passer by for assistance to my accommodation, this opportunist then assisted himself to my mobile phone, 100 dirhams and walked away from me without me so much as blinking. I still recall this guy walking to the end of the alley where he'd directed me, turning left and then me thinking at that moment 'Ahh f*ck! He's got my mobile hasn't he? He's not coming back either, is he? And I still don't know where my accommodation is!? I'm just a rip roaring mong right about now!'

Back alleys of Marrakech - Morocco

5. Entering Mexico without acquiring a visa - Tijuana - (Mexico) - 2011 - Now this isn't exactly as dumb as it sounds. The Mexico/US border is fairly liquid in terms of allow foreigners to pass through without a visa, well, from the Mexican perspective anyway. The deal is that if you want to stay in TJ then ok, there's no visa required but for escapades further into Mexico you'll need one. At the time Jet and I entered Mexico we thought we would only be staying in TJ and then making our way back into the US and then across it, funds put pay to that. Thr residual affect of not acquiring the needed visa at the border gave rise to a spectacular sequence of event at the airport in Mexico City which had us waving goodbye to our flight to Los Angeles as we picked up our offloaded luggage from the flight on the tarmac. Again, it's one of those days/nights when on reflection you just have to laugh but at the time, man did it suck balls!!! This entry for it is amusing I think, check it out - The Project



No skateboarding across the border! Remember that! - Tijuana - Mexico

That's the border exit! Turn right and walk 5mtrs and you have yourself good 'ole Mexican tacos! Of course that's exactly what you're looking for after you've crossed - Tijuana - Mexico









Paraty - the pace of life project

Paraty (Brasil)
06 - 08 January 2012

A few years ago I recall reading an experiment that was undertaken by the British Council in which researchers travelled to major cities of the world and measured the average time that it took for people to walk a distance of 60ft (approximately 19 mtrs). The data set applied in each city involved 35 randomly chosen men, and 35 randomly chosen women, with the parameters being that the area chosen to assist in the statistical measurement of the 'pace of life' would need to be a busy street in a major city, free from obstacles and also be sufficiently uncrowded so as to allow individuals to be able to hit their maximum walking speed over the distance set. The hypothesis from the data retrieved was that a pedestrians' measured speed could somehow be a reliable indicator of the pace of life in a city. Additionally the data would also somehow show that in fast moving cities people are far less likely to help others and in one more intruiging quirk, fast paced cities also had higher rates of coronary heart disease.

I often wonder how organisations such as the British Council conjure up experiments that often seem to be quite whimsical and capricious. I sometimes imagine good 'ole chaps such as Winston and his buddies from Carrington Hall, sitting back in their Chesterfields, puffing on their Cohiba Behike's, working their way through a Remy Martin Louis, and coming up with fantastic ideas by which they would be 'officially' allowed to indulge themselves in the realm of exotic world travel for the sake of science and the further understanding of the strange beings which we happen to be. I have the odd suspicsion that a conversation amongst Winston and his dear old chums as to the viability of an experiment might go something like this....

'Rodrick, listen to this idea, we'll put to the council that we travel to say 50 cities around the world,we'll sit in cafes having macchiatos for the afternoon and just time how long it takes say, 70 people to walk past us' ...

'Why Winston, what a wonderfully scrumptuous and mischievious idea. I'll get the heads of the Council for Arbitrary Nonsense together at once, tally ho!'

Still, if you want to know the outcome of that experiment, it goes a little something like this

Top 5 for SPEED

1. Singapore (Singapore)  10.55 secs

2. Copenhagen (Denmark)   10.82 secs

3. Madrid (Spain)                   10.89 secs

4. Guangzhouu (China)         10.94 secs

5. Dublin (Ireland)                   11.03 secs

Bottom 5

5. Damascus (Syria)           14.94 secs

4. Amman (Jordan)             15.95 secs

3. Bern (Switzerland)          17.37 secs

2. Manama (Bahrain)          17.69 secs

1. Blantyre (Malawi)          31.60 secs

Seriously Blantyre, what's going on in your world? When did your entire population 'check out' of life? I recommend that you find something to do, collectively, and spice up your society. I'll write to Winston and Rodrick, I'm sure they have a project that they're just waiting to unleash on you....aside from all of this garble however, what the hell does it have to do with Paraty you're asking yourself? Well to me at least it was quite noticeable that Paraty operated on Island Time, or should I perhaps restate it to, time in accordance to the Blantyre factor. The pace of life on the Costa Verde was S-L-O-W, but the type of slow that embraced you and drew you into its pervasive and all conquering ways. This quaint colonial town located on the Bay of Ilha Grande, had that charming and casual sensibility that somehow infiltrated your own cells and forced you to slow down through the enforced changing of your own internal fabric.

View out onto the Bay of Ilha Grande - Costa Verde - from the Resort Croce del Sud

JJ & Jetson - pace of life at a stand still - Paraty - Brasil

Historic town centre - Paraty - Brasil

Historic town centre - Paraty - Brasil

Paraty - Brasil

Walking around the well worn cobble-stone streets in the historic centre, appreciating the colonial architecture and getting moderately beaten by the humidty and heat, our pace of life was frequently truncated by our need for alcoholic refreshment and inspiration. Not that any of us minded the challenging framework of Brasilian style being that we set ourselves. With increasingly slower movement we managed the purcgase of seafood and wine for an evening fiesta and made our way back to the Southern Cross where we watced the sun fall away over the rainforest covered hills. I think that if someone had taken a measure of my rate of movement in Paraty during those days they would have quickly followed up with a check of my pulse!

07 January

Sunrise from the Croce del Sud

If our previous day didn't quite live up to the all pervasive chilled vibe that we expected from Paraty, well, the next day almost put us into a euphoric coma (is that a contradiction? Probably, but I'm sticking with it). On this day we jumped onto one of the many local boats/yachts that depart on daily adventures of Ilha Grande Bay from Paraty and spent something close to 6hrs gliding across the emerald green waters of the surrounding bays.

Yeah, I'm on a boat! - Paraty - Brasil

'Oh sh*t! Get your towels ready because it's about to go down!'

The colonial town of Paraty - Brasil

Being out on the water of Ilha Grande just made you appreciate the Costa Verde for all that it was worth. I don't recall a place that I have ever been to previously where I've seen rainforest simply cascade from the surrounding hills into the majestically coloured water. Not only was it completely tranquil and peaceful, and not only were we now graciously being served by the weather which had decided to support us in our cause, but the water of the bay was a perfect temperature that allowed you to get your swim on. Additionally, I don't think that I ever recall seeing water equivalent to the brilliant emerald green of the bay of Ilha Grande. It was breathtaking.

Ilha Grande Bay - Brasil

Emerald Green water of Ilha Grande (magnificent) -Brasil

When you're travelling, they're the types of days that are the exception to the rule. Not so much for the fact that other days don't match up, because they do, but more due to the fact that creating a day without expectation and being surprised by what it ends up delivering is always a golden reward. To quote myself, from a line that I wrote in relation to Madrid, 'Sometimes planning things can be the death of enjoyment because what you end up deducting is the very aspect of surprise and chance that you searched for to begin with' -  I think our day out on the water absolutely caught me by surprise in what it offered, and also for the fact that I saw Frichot get out into the water also! What the? Unexpected much!!?

Ilha Grande Bay - Brasil

Splish-splash - Rockin' the emerald waves of the Costa Verde!

Ilha Grande Bay - Costa Verde - Brasil

08 January

Each morning at the Resort Croce del Sud we were delivered an amazing breakfast which consisted of fruit juices, various types of breads, and combinations of sweet and savoury offerings from the Lucas's wife, offerings which the three of us could never get through. On our final full day in Paraty I think it was either the enormity of the breakfast, or perhaps the sleep deprivation that finally got the better of Jetson, but he decided to inhabit the inside of the unit for the day whilst JJ and I cruised on into Paraty for a little souveneir hunting.

Now I always find souvenir hunting a chore. Unless something really jumps out at me I hate having to walk around without a real aim and be driven solely by my moral compass. Somehow you feel that it has to be 'shown' that you were thinking of someone whilst you were away and then proof comes in the degree of gift that you manage to conjure up for your peeps hours after your homeward flight has touched down. I think in future I'm going to make my friends and family sign a contract that mutually binds us to strict terms of not having to purchase gifts unless the gift bought is absolutely 'legendary'. That is the only fair way of getting off the program,saving pain, time and unnecessary funds whilst on holidays for items that really won't ever be utilised again. There's only so many 'I love Uruguay' t-shirts that I can buy! REALLY!!

With the mind numbing task of souvenir harassment out of the way JJ and I got ourselves into the 'primo' mode of lunch, chased down by a few bottles of wine. It was just the the trigger that we needed, as our wanderings after this lead us to an exquisite wine bar where the service was impeccable, if not disarmingly odd. JJ and I sat at the bar for hours, with JJ blabbering to one of the staff in English, the staff member responding to her in Portuguese, and me understanding only the common bits of Spanish that I knew but the both of them somehow getting totally in depth about life,love and all things female. At one point the Brasilian lady took it upon herself to give me a stern talking to for calling JJ 'loco'.....'C'mon lady, you've been talking to her for the last 3 hrs! You KNOW that she is, give this man a break!!!'

Several hours later we slipped out of the bar into what was already early evening. I recall looking around and simply thinking, 'Hey man, where has that sun gone!' and then automatically feeling sorry for Jetson because he was going to have to put up with two drunken upstarts when we got back home who when affected by alcohol love to argue! It's just in our DNA, what can you do!?

Sunset from the Croce del Sud - Paraty - Brasil

Somehow the night turned into an oddity in  that I manged to rip out what I thought was quite a sensational seafood meal with the goods we had acquired in Paraty, JJ and I held of on any drunken one upsmanship in the argument stakes, and for an additional trick we tried to locate the owner of a mobile phone that we had acquired somewhere along the line. I pity those poor Portuguese speaking bandits that had to try and decipher my guerilla Spanish for the several hours that they continually called the phone in order to resolve its whereabouts. Ah Paraty, you're sensationally chilled, attractive, and have a rebellious dash of good old fashioned pirate in you. I would have loved to have stayed longer but the relaxation coma that you would have put me into may have been something from which I would never have returned!

Paraty - The Southern Cross

Rio de Janeiro - Paraty (Brasil)
05 January 2012

Sometimes I quite like being the isolationist. I can easily allow myself to contemplate and meander through those real, surreal and errant thoughts in my mind for hours on end. I could gaze both longingly and forlornly out onto mountain ranges, desert plains and nautical miles of ocean. I'm totally OK with being in my own space without the need of company, so much so that if I allowed that line of thought to continue for a period of time I could quite easily become the quintessential hermit. I believe that occasionally social butterflies need to be shot out of the sky for the simple fact that their constant need for recognition and attention irritates the living daylights out of me. This outlook, although perhaps slightly warped, is why I can make sense of a man wanting to spend those crucial years of his life building and then sailing his yacht around the globe. Spending endless days on the timeless ocean, allowing oneself to to break lose from economic or social melodramas, I get how someone could fall for the solitude of the ocean. This in fact was the life of an Italian man (Luca), who was the owner of the resort Croce del Sud - (Cross of the South or Southern Cross), that we were to stay in over the next 5 days, about 20kms outside of the old colonial town of Paraty. I'll get back to Luca and his story in a little while.

Our time in Rio had unfortunately come to an end and whilst the rain had damaged its obvious potential there's nothing that could damage its glorious reputation in my mind. It didn't quite pull me into its web of seduction in the same way that a Buenos Aires can and does,nor did it wrap me up in a cloud of mystery in the manner of a Marrakech, but Rio is attractive, laid back and obviously knows how to get its party on when required. I've ticked you on my future 'to do' list Rio, and I'll be back with reinforcements sometime very soon.

Incidentally, do you know how difficult it is to acquire bus tickets in Brasil from outside of the country? It's a task that nearly drove JJ and I to breaking point before arriving in Rio. Trying to arrange the 4hr transit down to Paraty online was more than a mission, it was a lesson in the mechanics of coping with frustration without unnecessarily fatally damaging your own property. Vexing, annoying and futile! Actually, 'counterintuitive' would be the perfect description. Why Brasil, why do you bossanova bandits make it so difficult for us mere mortals? Still, we found out, as I probably should have realised, that just rocking up to a bus station and acquiring tickets is far less painful.This is what we did for our return leg thankfully. For our straight journey south however we were already locked and loaded, aiming at the once Portuguese colonial town of Paraty which carves out its little niche in this world along the Costa Verde (Green Coast). It's a place that had been recommended to me by my once salsa partner in crime Paula, and had originally been earmarked on my now fatal 2010 tour. This time it was getting taken out!

Overlooking Pararty Bay from the Resort Croce del Sud - Paraty - Brasil

Overlooking Pararty Bay from the Resort Croce del Sud - Paraty - Brasil

As most people who travel with me are aware, put me on anything that moves and I'll inevitably find a way to fall asleep. The four hour run down to Paraty was nothing more than a nap, so much so that when I saw the bus pull up right in front of the driveway to the Resort Croce del Sud I thought I was having quite a vivid daydream. For some reason the bus stopped for a few minutes longer than anticipated and I made what I thought to be the 'obvious' decision, that we should bust out of the bus and forgo the additional 20km run into Paraty because it would only mean having to find our way back. What I was also aware of was that the walk from the start of the driveway (in fact it was a road shared by other estates), to the actual resort was 500mtrs. I knew that. What I didn't know was that the 500mtrs was almost vertical!! It was 2mins into our walk that 'perfect male reasoning' was decimated by the reality of humidity and gravity. We turned up to the actual driveway of the resort in clothes that would not have been fit for Aquaman to wear. When Luca greeted us it was with a glassful of dismay at the fact that these ignorant Australians had decided on attacking the slopes 'freestyle' - 'Oh yeah Luca, we're hard nuts that aren't partial to reading, why would you want to have all the information available when you can find out first hand how much of an idiot you are'. Usually when I make mistakes of this calibre I come out with the line, 'Well, this is how you earn it'. Of course a taxi ride would have sufficed and I would have been happy for the driver to have earned the 40 Riel's which we saved in our 'enterprising' fashion.

The view from the back of the unit - Resort Croce del Sud - Paraty - Brasil

Resort Croce del Sud - Paraty - Brasil

The units/flats, or whatever you would like to call them were amazing however. Not so much for their facilities but for the fact that they had such a commanding view out over the bay of Paraty. The idea of chilling was not a decision that had to be made, it was something that was virtually going to be forced on us. It's a place where the rolling hills and mountains of rain forest effortlessly cascaded into the bay, and where you could hear the receding echo of fishing boats making their way out for another working day. This place was going to be very easy to get use to.

On our first afternoon we managed to walk back down the hill and into the small fishing village of Prainha and then onto the small secluded beach of Praia Grande. Now this beach to me was absolutely perfect. Emerald green waters, completely surrounded by rain forest, pristine sand and a bar not 20mtrs from the waters edge! How we didn't spend more than one afternoon just lazing around or drinking ourselves into a rain forest inspired drunken coma is beyond my comprehension. It's definitely one of my regrets for the time that we spent there but it also leaves the opportunity of having to make it up to myself at some distant point in the future.

Prainha - Costa Verde - Brasil

Jetson and JJ on the beach in Prainha - Costa Verde - Brasil

Now explain to me how we only spent the ONE afternoon on this beach

That initial evening on our balcony, glasses of wine in hand, gazing out over the bay was just E-A-S-Y. The taste of victory from walking back up the hill from the fishing village was captured perfectly in several glasses of white and also in the food that we managed to retrieve whilst down in Prainha. It's kind of obvious but when you're in a fishing village you go with their local produce right! ....and that decision was NOT a mistake. The fish and prawns that we picked up that afternoon was some of the sweetest and most 'delightful' (yes, I used that word), that I've ever had. Thankfully our flat gave us the opportunity to cook up a storm whenever we felt inspired by our environment and the way that it turned out we ended up dancing to a sweet seafood symphony every night.

Afternoon session over the bay - I think that's JJ hitting her head and expressing her overwhelming disappointment as to the situation she was now in!

Evening on its way - Resort Croce del Sud - Costa Verde - Brasil

A score with the local produce!

So, back to the story of Luca, the owner of the resort. Now apparently his life story took a turn when he entered the bay of Paraty. Somehow the Costa Verde had her way with him and decided on his behalf that his being was going to occupy this space for a while. Now this is the part that amazes me, whilst in Paraty he made his decision to stay, found himself a wife, had a couple of kids and set himself up with a ridiculous resort in a 'ridiculous' location. Of course he sold his yacht, the original Croce del Sud, which the resort was named after but what a freakin' sea change! Luca, you're kind of an oddball but much respect for following your instincts!