B slept. Feeling better. We watched TV in Portuguese. Went to bed.
20th
Checked out of Che Lagarto – had already been down to the bus station to get our tickets for Sao Paulo, leaving on Sunday – we'd been clever and booked a really nice place for the weekend, at an unbelievably good price as well – almost too good to be true. We strolled along to Pousada Tucano – right next to the beach and the square where everyone was setting up for the festival. When we knocked on the door the woman told us that we didn't have a booking. We tried to explain to this Portuguese speaking woman the situation, as we were used to this by now, but she still insisted. Not having any of this, we went inside anyway and tried to make our point further. She phoned up her boyfriend/owner (guest house owner, not her owner) who spoke English. He explained that he had emailed the hostel booker website back saying that he had been booked up for months and couldn't accept the booking. They just hadn't bothered telling us this. Luckily, he was an extremely helpful bloke and phoned round loads of places to find a room – this was the busiest weekend of the year for this small town due to the booze festival so this was not easy – eventually he found a friend who had a small flat/annexe thing that we could use. After we had lunch on the beach, he drove us up the road to this place and we settled in. There was a very friendly dog there. Bindya loved the owner as she was “warm, kind, friendly, spoke English and had lovely kids”. I think she could have done without the Very Friendly Dog though...
We headed up to the festival in the evening, had some Italian food and then hit the Cachaca stands. After a bit of nervous ambling, trying to work out what was going on, we approached a man in a silly hat and asked if he spoke English. He did and very kindly explained the different types of Cachaca and gave us samples of them. All 45% distilled cane spirit. We got a tiny cup and tried them – the first one had a pale blue colour, like petrol, flavoured with some sort of flower. It smelt lovely. It tasted like petrol too. The second one was a local speciality, flavoured with honey. It was like a sweet sherry (B says). The last one smelt like mulled wine, cinnamon and cloves and stuff. It took us about 30 minutes to finish this tiny cup – B says it was like red aftershock.
We then enjoyed the entertainments a bit – they did traditional dancing just like Morris Dancing – they had a maypole and everything, even though they got it wrong and just walked off. Then some kids did a cute little dance, both of us commenting on how sweet it was, unlike what we're used to at Gladys Aylward (yes T...), then some dance with a giant papier mache sort of man/woman/bogeyman/matador chasing all these little girls, and a bull and a man riding a horse or something. I'm sure there was some cultural significance that passed us by. Then we sat for a bit and I thought the petrol stuff had made me feel queasy. We laughed for hours at some special child who couldn't get some toy to work – you had to be there – then we went home and I threw up violently into the toilet for hours.
This is where I take over, Neil was ill most of the night and I could tell by the sounds from the bathroom he had what I had previosuly and so he was in for a rought night.
21st August 2010
The next day Neil was still ill, as now it was coming out of both ends. He slept most of the day and I went out to get him supplies i.e. water, coke, and biscuits (yes his request not mine). So with money, a bag and a list of things I set out into Paraty on my own. I think I did ok communicating with folk and trying to get all the things I needed. I headed back and Neil was still out of it so I decided to read. Yes Alison I have already read Twilight and New Moon in about 3 days!!
Neil felt better and in the evening we headed out to get some food as both of us hadn't eaten for a day. We went around the festival and the crowds were bigger then yesterday, they were chanting, dancing and drinking. The drunkenness was evident as we saw little children carrying home their parents from the festival.
Neil still felt unwell so we grabbed something to eat and headed home to play cards for the night.
22nd August 2010
Today we had to get up early as we had an early bus to Sao Paulo that morning, We paid up (actually they were not in and so left a note, keys and money under their door) and headed to the bus station. We got on a bus which the driver had to check our passport and check if we had done up our belts ( how school trip did that feel). The journey was great, they have so much space on the bus and the abilty to recline back, this time no person in front taking the space. The views were great as we travelled to the "monsterous town" (quote from lonely planet) of Sao Paulo.
We arrived at the bus station (which is the biggest bus staion in south America) but it didnt seem it to us and we managed to get off the bus, through the terminal and onto the subway, to our next Hostel. The place is ok, good location but not great as the room isn't what we expected, by hey we should know better by now!!!!
We decided that since we had both been ill and not eaten well for days, that we would find a nice place to eat and treat ourselves. The guide said that Sao Paulo was a “godsend, boasting quality unrivaled in South America” excellent we thought as we were sick of cheese, chicken, bread and little vegtables. So we headed onto the subway to Vila Madalena a place that the guidebook says has places to drink, eat and a good nightlife aswell as being the arstic quarter of the city.
We got there and realised that we had forgotten the map. B wanted to go back but I wasn't giving up. Total ignorance had never stopped us in the past. We walked up and down some roads. I followed a sign that led us all the way to the bottom of a big hill. There was nothing there so we had to walk all the way up to the top of same hill. By this point we were pretty much dropping with hunger and triedness so I admitted defeat and we got the Metro all the way back. We found a bar and had a quick beer (not the ones we asked for but...) and some Empadas (really small pies) and decided what to do. The long and short of it is that we couldn't find anywhere decent to eat in this place, partly due to everything being closed on a Sunday (flipping Christians...) and partly due to us just not knowing hwere anything is, so we went to a place-that-I-won't-name and had Mc Chicken meals.
We are now just so excited about going to Bolivia. There is a place in La Paz called “Star of India”, owned by a Brit. We have already planned to stay in the hostel opposite for about a week and eat there three times a day. Bolivia, despite being the poorest country in South America, sounds like El Dorado to us right now. As well as having decent sounding food, everything is so cheap as well – a room for the night for 5 quid, kebabs for a couple of quid, beer for 60p.. it's all we talk about right now..
