Hi Bloggers,
Just to let you know I have been really busy the past week. Busy NOT writing 2k words a day on my book - merely researching for it. I guess my book will be based on a drunken 30 year old - Yes, I have done nothing but dine out twice a day and drink shots of Jagermeister and Red Bull 'blasters'. I have been frequenting my old haunts in Half Moon Bay California, The Harbor Bar and the Brewing Company and I have also had a few nights of debauchery in San Fran itself - There were masked as shopping days but visiting a bar for a cocktail at 2pm does not make much time for frequenting the many wonderful shops the city has to offer.
I have been spending time with my mum, who is going through a tough time of it after being called back after a routine mammogram. She has just been told today about her next trip to the hospital which will be for a biopsy on a couple of lumps they found in one of her breasts.
I will be changing the tone of my blog for a while as I will be documenting the days ahead and if it comes to it how things pan out when you discover such a shock as potential cancer in the family. There is no humour to be had in the 'c' word. But since a couple of people close to me are going through the same thing with their parents I think the diagnoses should be documented as it is not something that does not happen to you. This blog is about me and contrary to popular belief my holiday had to end somewhere.
I should be back in the UK in a few days, just trying to swing a stand by business class ticket, then it is back to the house in Kent, and back to office work for a month to pay my bills and get ready for Leanne's wedding.
I have been aware of my mates in the past few weeks, and thank the boffins of Sillicolne Valley for the invention of email. I just wanna thank you all for being somewhere in the world for me. I love you all.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Gosh has it been a week?
Hi blogsterthonathonerers,
I have been a busy girlie I bet you are all wondering as I have not had time to get on my blog - Well, the realisation my long trip since October is coming to an end and reality is biting hard at one's heels.
I am back in San Francisco after a 28 hour journey. It is raining - What can I say? Someone been doing the old rain dance again.
I am not really in the mood to blog as I am psyching myself up for the journey back to the UK in 2 weeks and also I am getting in the right frame of mind for the book. I am aiming for 2k words a day so if you are a regular log-on to my site you will be best to check back in another week.
Sorry for being so dull and limp - Must be the Brazilian Blues.
Jxx
I have been a busy girlie I bet you are all wondering as I have not had time to get on my blog - Well, the realisation my long trip since October is coming to an end and reality is biting hard at one's heels.
I am back in San Francisco after a 28 hour journey. It is raining - What can I say? Someone been doing the old rain dance again.
I am not really in the mood to blog as I am psyching myself up for the journey back to the UK in 2 weeks and also I am getting in the right frame of mind for the book. I am aiming for 2k words a day so if you are a regular log-on to my site you will be best to check back in another week.
Sorry for being so dull and limp - Must be the Brazilian Blues.
Jxx
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Prostitute
That title got all the boys looking I bet!
Last night was the final night of madness in this torrential rain hit city. Sarah and I have been restricted on the amount of fun we could have simply due to the fact drinking has to be involved to get into the party spirit in this town and we have not had a chance to do so as we are like a living wonder of the world to the locals. Basically we stand out like a sore thumb and the blacks here can not help but stroke and harass us - thus we have remained sober to keep our wits about us. Very sensible I feel, especially since I am usually the party animal.
The rain has dampened our spirits - I am sure I have gone on enough about this, but honestly there is nothing to do here in the rain, except sleep. Sarah thinks with all the beauty sleep we have had we now look like teenagers again!
We were enjoying an afternoon nap yesterday when the buzzer to the apartment went - I answered it and it was Jose Manuel a 28 year old guy from Chile who we met on the flight to Salvador. His friends had gone out already as he had thought his flight to his next destination was in the am, but having got to the airport in a post samba stress the front desk informed him his flight was 24 hours later! So Jose was up for a night out with his English buddies.
We slapped on a bit of waterproof mascara and put on our hooded tops (1st time out of the rucksack in 5 weeks) and off we swam to the historic centre of town for the last night of carnival.
We had a few Capprihannas and got a wee bit tipsy, we did feel safer with a guy and did not get any of the usual strokes from the locals due to our chaperone being such a star.
In the pub I got chatting to a lad called Marlon (32) from Twickenham, but was distinctively Cockney to me. He was smoking a huge cigar and seemed like a laugh. His Spanish was from tapes he had back at his apartment - I asked him if the narrator was Michael Caine - his attempt at the lingo was hilarious (Marlon i]f u r reading this - nice try mate) He ended up at our table with another Chilean called Joel. He was a lawyer - we have encountered many on this trip. Either it is some sort of lie to catch out attention or Sarah just attracts them, since she is one herself. Anyway the party was on.
Joel asked if his ´friend´ could sit with us and we said sure - the more the merrier and all that. What he forgot to inform us was that she was a 15 year old (well, she looked it) local prostitute, and was his bit on the side for $40 for 2 nights! This shocked me and I was not prepared to entertain the idea, we were getting a few stares form the rest of the bar by this time. What was eve more shocking was when the pervert asked if I wanted to join them later! Yeah right. He got the wrath of Jo and tried to make a joke but I was having none of it and he soon left with his girl in tow.
This country is so poor, I could not believe how cheap it was to rent someone for such a small amount, it really did open my eyes. These people love westerners and many of them try anything to get out of this place.
we had a 9 year old kid begging for milk for his baby sister the other day, it was heart breaking, we helped him though and he was a little cutie. He said he was called Jackson, after somehow that would help his cause, well it did and it was humbling to know he was gonna go back with a weeks worth of powdered milk for the family.
There are loads of young pregnant girls walking the streets and the Favelas are just bits of cardboard with no protection from the elements, it just makes you think how lucky we are. It certainly puts a lot into perspective for me, and for lessons such as this I am truly grateful for the opportunity I have had coming to South America.
Last night was the final night of madness in this torrential rain hit city. Sarah and I have been restricted on the amount of fun we could have simply due to the fact drinking has to be involved to get into the party spirit in this town and we have not had a chance to do so as we are like a living wonder of the world to the locals. Basically we stand out like a sore thumb and the blacks here can not help but stroke and harass us - thus we have remained sober to keep our wits about us. Very sensible I feel, especially since I am usually the party animal.
The rain has dampened our spirits - I am sure I have gone on enough about this, but honestly there is nothing to do here in the rain, except sleep. Sarah thinks with all the beauty sleep we have had we now look like teenagers again!
We were enjoying an afternoon nap yesterday when the buzzer to the apartment went - I answered it and it was Jose Manuel a 28 year old guy from Chile who we met on the flight to Salvador. His friends had gone out already as he had thought his flight to his next destination was in the am, but having got to the airport in a post samba stress the front desk informed him his flight was 24 hours later! So Jose was up for a night out with his English buddies.
We slapped on a bit of waterproof mascara and put on our hooded tops (1st time out of the rucksack in 5 weeks) and off we swam to the historic centre of town for the last night of carnival.
We had a few Capprihannas and got a wee bit tipsy, we did feel safer with a guy and did not get any of the usual strokes from the locals due to our chaperone being such a star.
In the pub I got chatting to a lad called Marlon (32) from Twickenham, but was distinctively Cockney to me. He was smoking a huge cigar and seemed like a laugh. His Spanish was from tapes he had back at his apartment - I asked him if the narrator was Michael Caine - his attempt at the lingo was hilarious (Marlon i]f u r reading this - nice try mate) He ended up at our table with another Chilean called Joel. He was a lawyer - we have encountered many on this trip. Either it is some sort of lie to catch out attention or Sarah just attracts them, since she is one herself. Anyway the party was on.
Joel asked if his ´friend´ could sit with us and we said sure - the more the merrier and all that. What he forgot to inform us was that she was a 15 year old (well, she looked it) local prostitute, and was his bit on the side for $40 for 2 nights! This shocked me and I was not prepared to entertain the idea, we were getting a few stares form the rest of the bar by this time. What was eve more shocking was when the pervert asked if I wanted to join them later! Yeah right. He got the wrath of Jo and tried to make a joke but I was having none of it and he soon left with his girl in tow.
This country is so poor, I could not believe how cheap it was to rent someone for such a small amount, it really did open my eyes. These people love westerners and many of them try anything to get out of this place.
we had a 9 year old kid begging for milk for his baby sister the other day, it was heart breaking, we helped him though and he was a little cutie. He said he was called Jackson, after somehow that would help his cause, well it did and it was humbling to know he was gonna go back with a weeks worth of powdered milk for the family.
There are loads of young pregnant girls walking the streets and the Favelas are just bits of cardboard with no protection from the elements, it just makes you think how lucky we are. It certainly puts a lot into perspective for me, and for lessons such as this I am truly grateful for the opportunity I have had coming to South America.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Sights of Salvador
Hi Blogster buddies,
Just in a Pusada (lodge house), which is full of travelers and consists of a few pc´s and a corridor full of bunk beds for weary traveling types. It is now that I see that my ´70´s syled apartment may actually be ok compared to this. If only it possessed a computer I do not think I would have got out of bed today as it had rained solidly for 24 hours now. However the partying is rampant and there are still endless sights to be seen, especially if you are as avid a people watcher as myself.
We have seen at least 1,000 Gandhis - dressed with towel turbans, full on frocks and sandals all with Gandhi´s head embossed on them. Beads like you could not imagine and silly looking grins. They are part of a Blocca which follow the floats round the circuit. We have not been part of this tradition as it is far too expensive and have resigned ourselves to the cheap seats when we have ventured out into this mad-cap world of wierdos. We are referred to a Pipoca (popcorn) by the ticket paying public, cause we stand on the sides jumping up and down.
We have seen grown men dressed as Mini Mouse, hundreds of them. Their outfits are spot on but there make up leaves a lot to be desired.
Now I think the transvestite population of S America have transcended upon this part of the country, I have a feeling that they have traveled far and wide as their various degrees of girlie attire are so different. Some just wear really tight jeans with nylon colourful skin tight tops with a little eye liner and lipstick, others have mini dresses on of al sorts of patterns and colours and actually look like some surgery has been performed, they have boobs and cheek bones, and finally there are some with full-on beards and a bit of lippy with a wanky wig. So you can see how confusing it all gets - especially after a few - I can see a few men getting them selves into sticky situations.
The kids are the best, they have fancy dress of all descriptions, but the street kids are amazing. They too and fro like little ants, getting in to nucks and crannys you would not expect, gathering essentials for their mothers who are street sellers. Selling all you could imagine from beads to beer. The little kids are back and fourth getting ice and more lagers in wheel barrows or trying to balance the poly ice boxes on their tiny heads, while dodging thousands of people in the street. Some even carry round make shift BBQ´s with them, they are made from old paint tins (the things they make with these tins is a blog in itself, I do not think I will be able to bring myself to throwing one of them away again). These BBQ contraptions are for roasting cheese-on-a-stick, a lovely treat when you are sick of pizza.
We have been to Pizza Hut two mornings in a row now for all you can eat breakfast - I will not be eating too many of these again upon my return to civilisation, I have had enough. I am ready for home I must say. Missing a sterile environment and dying to get back to the old cleanse, tone moisturise routine. I am dying to dump the can of insect repellent and tea-tree oil. Give me constant hot water, clean towels and sweat free nights any time. I miss my bathroom.
Just in a Pusada (lodge house), which is full of travelers and consists of a few pc´s and a corridor full of bunk beds for weary traveling types. It is now that I see that my ´70´s syled apartment may actually be ok compared to this. If only it possessed a computer I do not think I would have got out of bed today as it had rained solidly for 24 hours now. However the partying is rampant and there are still endless sights to be seen, especially if you are as avid a people watcher as myself.
We have seen at least 1,000 Gandhis - dressed with towel turbans, full on frocks and sandals all with Gandhi´s head embossed on them. Beads like you could not imagine and silly looking grins. They are part of a Blocca which follow the floats round the circuit. We have not been part of this tradition as it is far too expensive and have resigned ourselves to the cheap seats when we have ventured out into this mad-cap world of wierdos. We are referred to a Pipoca (popcorn) by the ticket paying public, cause we stand on the sides jumping up and down.
We have seen grown men dressed as Mini Mouse, hundreds of them. Their outfits are spot on but there make up leaves a lot to be desired.
Now I think the transvestite population of S America have transcended upon this part of the country, I have a feeling that they have traveled far and wide as their various degrees of girlie attire are so different. Some just wear really tight jeans with nylon colourful skin tight tops with a little eye liner and lipstick, others have mini dresses on of al sorts of patterns and colours and actually look like some surgery has been performed, they have boobs and cheek bones, and finally there are some with full-on beards and a bit of lippy with a wanky wig. So you can see how confusing it all gets - especially after a few - I can see a few men getting them selves into sticky situations.
The kids are the best, they have fancy dress of all descriptions, but the street kids are amazing. They too and fro like little ants, getting in to nucks and crannys you would not expect, gathering essentials for their mothers who are street sellers. Selling all you could imagine from beads to beer. The little kids are back and fourth getting ice and more lagers in wheel barrows or trying to balance the poly ice boxes on their tiny heads, while dodging thousands of people in the street. Some even carry round make shift BBQ´s with them, they are made from old paint tins (the things they make with these tins is a blog in itself, I do not think I will be able to bring myself to throwing one of them away again). These BBQ contraptions are for roasting cheese-on-a-stick, a lovely treat when you are sick of pizza.
We have been to Pizza Hut two mornings in a row now for all you can eat breakfast - I will not be eating too many of these again upon my return to civilisation, I have had enough. I am ready for home I must say. Missing a sterile environment and dying to get back to the old cleanse, tone moisturise routine. I am dying to dump the can of insect repellent and tea-tree oil. Give me constant hot water, clean towels and sweat free nights any time. I miss my bathroom.
Monday, February 07, 2005
It Stinks
Ok I am apologising yet again for the spelling mistakes in this post. I cannot seem to fathom the spell check - Well, Salvador does not facilitate such luxuries, so I will be checking and amending as soon as I reach civilisation. Which is not too far away, praise the Lord as it is raining again and it really does stink here. There are rumored to be about 2 million people in the area for carnival and I have only seen 10 portaloos to date so the picturesque roadsides in this historical center seem to be the only place for grown men to relieve themselves. This is not a generalisation, I am not being sexist, all women know we would do anything to avoid such public defecation (is that a word - I am sure spell check would have helped me out here). Yes, we women know that sometimes you even have to buy a sarni just so you can use some little cafe´s toilet. I have been in and out of these cafes for a few days now, and they are dirtier than the streets in some instances, perhaps the men are right. I am not happy about not being able to wear flip flops in this pee strewn city, especially since it is now hammering it down and the streets are home to rivers of unrine please get me back to civilisation.
We are in the historic centre again, we do like to revisit our favorite haunts. Last night´s dinner made us want to come back, even though the service was poor the onion soup made a lasting impression. The net cafe we are in is in a sort of religious centre, Sister Pascal´s picture is hanging above my head and there are notices stating ´´Proibido sites pornografico´´ dotted about. The toilets in here smell as bad as a sewage reprocessing plant and I have just deleted a whole posting in my dash for said loos, so am not in the best of moods.
Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday and being a staunch Catholic girl I am giving up ash - IE smoking,(isn´t that what you are supposed to give up for Lent?) The dreaded weed will be no longer my lips best buddy. As I am not really a practicing Catholic some may know this ( no names mentioned) and I am a smoker why the sudden decision to quit, for 6 weeks?
Well, it has absolutely nowt to do with the tens of youths who seem to preach to me about the habit on a daily basis. I try to explain in broken Spanish that I have no dependents and I quite like the idea of spending my last days in a box, afterall they would be otherwise spent in an old person´s home dead or shouting ``nurse`` for hours just cause I wanted jam instead of marmalade on my cold toast. No it is not this intrusion of my life´s decision to satisfy every waking hour with at least one cancerous stick of pouting pleasure.
It is the harsh colour photos which occupy the entire pack of cigs in this country. Even though they are about 15 pence a pack here which does not stop everyone blagging them off you, they seem to have it sussed with the old shock tactics. This is my main reason for quitting, I am using Lent as a cover up.
I have seen a few pictures such as a little girl in the back of a car with inhaler in her mouth, a gammy leg and a dead rat and cockroach. One of the questions which I must ask myself is why the Mayor of London has not been informed of such a revolution? If smoking is so bad for rats why on earth doesn´t he do something about the fact that when in London you are never less than 3 foot away from a one? Ken Livingstone, get your arse to Brazil, stock up on duty frees and get the rats hooked. Gotta be a lot cheaper than Rentakill.
Talking of rats, I cannot believe that I have not seen one here yet considering it is such a smelly pee-ridden place.
Gotta go for a fag now - one of the last for 6 weeks.
We are in the historic centre again, we do like to revisit our favorite haunts. Last night´s dinner made us want to come back, even though the service was poor the onion soup made a lasting impression. The net cafe we are in is in a sort of religious centre, Sister Pascal´s picture is hanging above my head and there are notices stating ´´Proibido sites pornografico´´ dotted about. The toilets in here smell as bad as a sewage reprocessing plant and I have just deleted a whole posting in my dash for said loos, so am not in the best of moods.
Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday and being a staunch Catholic girl I am giving up ash - IE smoking,(isn´t that what you are supposed to give up for Lent?) The dreaded weed will be no longer my lips best buddy. As I am not really a practicing Catholic some may know this ( no names mentioned) and I am a smoker why the sudden decision to quit, for 6 weeks?
Well, it has absolutely nowt to do with the tens of youths who seem to preach to me about the habit on a daily basis. I try to explain in broken Spanish that I have no dependents and I quite like the idea of spending my last days in a box, afterall they would be otherwise spent in an old person´s home dead or shouting ``nurse`` for hours just cause I wanted jam instead of marmalade on my cold toast. No it is not this intrusion of my life´s decision to satisfy every waking hour with at least one cancerous stick of pouting pleasure.
It is the harsh colour photos which occupy the entire pack of cigs in this country. Even though they are about 15 pence a pack here which does not stop everyone blagging them off you, they seem to have it sussed with the old shock tactics. This is my main reason for quitting, I am using Lent as a cover up.
I have seen a few pictures such as a little girl in the back of a car with inhaler in her mouth, a gammy leg and a dead rat and cockroach. One of the questions which I must ask myself is why the Mayor of London has not been informed of such a revolution? If smoking is so bad for rats why on earth doesn´t he do something about the fact that when in London you are never less than 3 foot away from a one? Ken Livingstone, get your arse to Brazil, stock up on duty frees and get the rats hooked. Gotta be a lot cheaper than Rentakill.
Talking of rats, I cannot believe that I have not seen one here yet considering it is such a smelly pee-ridden place.
Gotta go for a fag now - one of the last for 6 weeks.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Pelaghrini-Salvador´s Historical Wonderland
Hey -What up?
Just blogging-in to let you know I have not been subjected to any robber´s blatent attempts to stick their hand´s down my pants and grab the nearest thing they find. They would only be dissapointed as my entire knicker contents are a bent drivers licence - no I obtained it legally - It is just bent with all the thrusting into my knickers for the past five weeks; a cigarette lighter and a crumpled up 20 reais note. This little ensemble of goodies has been my life line since I arrived. The note will be framed for posterity upon my return and left for my grand children to admire, that is unless a robber does manage to nab it.
We are enjoyig carnival, but I must say Sarah is tyring of the same old, where are you from? How long are you here for? type of questioning, and is being positivly rude to the locals we have encountered. I am dying to get into the spirit of things but my ban on hard liquer is putting a dampner on this.(this is a due to a series of events only my nearest and dearest know about!)
I am sat in Pelaghrini - You hardened travellers wil instantly know my misspelling of this town, I must appologise for my incompitence but spelling was never my strongest point,and unfortunately spell check will not get me out of my error this time.*
Yes,I am extatic as I have finally found somewhere caled an internet cafe which sells coffee, food and lets you smoke while typing. They sell amazing cigars too, but I have no friends who smoke those sort of long instruments of death so will not be puchasing - plus I do not think my sweaty 20 reais will stretch to one somehow.
We have been an a bus today. For 1/2 an hour we searched down the coast to find the perfect beach to top up the tan. We read in a guide book that Flamenco beach was a winner, even if it did state the amount of raw sewage running from the Favelas (slums) into the ocean. It was shit - literally. We made ourselves make the best of a bad situation and pretended we were residents of a hotel. To use their pool facilities,which we did - finally I have a tan line! I must say the skimpy bikinis are not the fashion in this part of Brazil and we were subjected to a few funny looks but that did not get in the way of our tanathon session. Objective accomplished.
Carnival is too mad for the old lass Harper. I can not sleep without ear plugs, even if it is a meger repellant for the banging of drums and street vendors constant barks. People are looking very tired by day 4 of this festive extravagansa. I amhowever pleased to report no hangovers of yet,but I seem to have a constant ringing in my ears none the less.
Salvador is not a patch on Rio, I must say. The carnival is its only saving grace. My advice come to carnival with your drinking head firmly screwed on, as in a sober state there are only so many weirdos one can take.
* note. Spellcheck did not save me from anything in this blog as it has declined my frantic efforts to check this text. I just pray my english teacher is not reading this.
Just blogging-in to let you know I have not been subjected to any robber´s blatent attempts to stick their hand´s down my pants and grab the nearest thing they find. They would only be dissapointed as my entire knicker contents are a bent drivers licence - no I obtained it legally - It is just bent with all the thrusting into my knickers for the past five weeks; a cigarette lighter and a crumpled up 20 reais note. This little ensemble of goodies has been my life line since I arrived. The note will be framed for posterity upon my return and left for my grand children to admire, that is unless a robber does manage to nab it.
We are enjoyig carnival, but I must say Sarah is tyring of the same old, where are you from? How long are you here for? type of questioning, and is being positivly rude to the locals we have encountered. I am dying to get into the spirit of things but my ban on hard liquer is putting a dampner on this.(this is a due to a series of events only my nearest and dearest know about!)
I am sat in Pelaghrini - You hardened travellers wil instantly know my misspelling of this town, I must appologise for my incompitence but spelling was never my strongest point,and unfortunately spell check will not get me out of my error this time.*
Yes,I am extatic as I have finally found somewhere caled an internet cafe which sells coffee, food and lets you smoke while typing. They sell amazing cigars too, but I have no friends who smoke those sort of long instruments of death so will not be puchasing - plus I do not think my sweaty 20 reais will stretch to one somehow.
We have been an a bus today. For 1/2 an hour we searched down the coast to find the perfect beach to top up the tan. We read in a guide book that Flamenco beach was a winner, even if it did state the amount of raw sewage running from the Favelas (slums) into the ocean. It was shit - literally. We made ourselves make the best of a bad situation and pretended we were residents of a hotel. To use their pool facilities,which we did - finally I have a tan line! I must say the skimpy bikinis are not the fashion in this part of Brazil and we were subjected to a few funny looks but that did not get in the way of our tanathon session. Objective accomplished.
Carnival is too mad for the old lass Harper. I can not sleep without ear plugs, even if it is a meger repellant for the banging of drums and street vendors constant barks. People are looking very tired by day 4 of this festive extravagansa. I amhowever pleased to report no hangovers of yet,but I seem to have a constant ringing in my ears none the less.
Salvador is not a patch on Rio, I must say. The carnival is its only saving grace. My advice come to carnival with your drinking head firmly screwed on, as in a sober state there are only so many weirdos one can take.
* note. Spellcheck did not save me from anything in this blog as it has declined my frantic efforts to check this text. I just pray my english teacher is not reading this.
Friday, February 04, 2005
FIRST NIGHT IN SALVADOR
I AM IN HEAVEN.....
Hi guys,
Can not stay long as I have to get tan and it is boiling here, got here safe and spent the opening night of carnival in style. Looking out of a private bar on the beach watching the millions of revilers go by. I have so much to say and no time I am afraid, but I will let you know this is the biggest party in the world and it is absolutely brilliant. I wish life could be one big carnival. It is madness.
Saw 2 incidents of thieving - pick pocketing from our window view - and there are so many police they were on them straightaway.
We are not taking any risks and will be back tomorrow to tell the real story of last night's celebrations. All I am saying is the part is 24/7 and we are here for a week!
Hi guys,
Can not stay long as I have to get tan and it is boiling here, got here safe and spent the opening night of carnival in style. Looking out of a private bar on the beach watching the millions of revilers go by. I have so much to say and no time I am afraid, but I will let you know this is the biggest party in the world and it is absolutely brilliant. I wish life could be one big carnival. It is madness.
Saw 2 incidents of thieving - pick pocketing from our window view - and there are so many police they were on them straightaway.
We are not taking any risks and will be back tomorrow to tell the real story of last night's celebrations. All I am saying is the part is 24/7 and we are here for a week!
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Best Friend´s Wedding
Hello my blogster budsters,
I have been too up my own arse to realise that I have a very special occasion coming up on 16th April. I have never forgot that I am due to be the Chief Bridesmaid at my best friend from Uni, Miss Leanne Dyas´ very special day. She is marrying Mr Richard (Richy) Lumb, with whom she has been Siamese-twinned to since 26/12/´94. ´Bout bloody time I hear you cry, my sentiments exactly.
Anyway, I have been receiving various emails regarding wedding venue hotel deals, hen nights and dress fittings for several months now. It does not seem 2 minutes ago since we were attending Fresher´s ball and discovering we were the only two people in York who spoke with a Yorkshire accent.
Now, the reason for this blog is to obviously give my sincere best wishes and congratulations and good luck with the plans and all that jazz, however my main concern is the speech!
Yes, speech. As chief bridesmaid and bestist of bestist friends in the whole wide world I have been nominated to make a speech. This is due to the fact that the Father of the Bride, Best Man and Groom are all absolutely petrified of making a complete and utter twat of themselves in public. Since I have been doing so for the past, well, when did I learn to talk? About 29 years, I seem to be the obvious choice to get the guests into a complete fit of fall of their balloon-decorated chairs with laughter and confirm how fantastic the families, couple, maids, caterers and Dave the DJ are, have been and will be.
I need a plan. I have been advised no rugby drinking type games (come on Leanne, a few toasts will be ´´traditional´´ and no photographs.
Now if you knew Leanne you would know that all the social and non-fascinating events since we commenced uni have been documented, in date order, in numbered photograph albums; they even have their own shelves in the office at her house. No photographs, why did she keep such a chronicle of our mad happenings then, if she did not want them blown up to poster size and exhibited around the very swish venue? Only joking babe. It is your special day and I promise not to show the one of you being sick in the ladies at Old John´s reunion - which you did actually post me a copy off - oh if only you could turn back the clock eh?
seriously you lot, I need help. I am not funny on command, I simply make people laugh when I am not pressured in any way. Now I am feeling the burn - Just before carnival as well, did you wanna spoil the last 10 days of my Brazil trip?
Anyone who knows Leanne or Richie for that matter have you any ideas - on a postcard please. No - email me harperjo@gmail.com. Do not post anything on the web, ´cause she is on it like a hawk.
I absolutely poohing my pants at the thought, seriously. It brings me back to my speech when I was contending against the great Alex AKA Bugsy for the hokey team´s Club captaincy post. Which I of course won - but that is not the point.
I have been too up my own arse to realise that I have a very special occasion coming up on 16th April. I have never forgot that I am due to be the Chief Bridesmaid at my best friend from Uni, Miss Leanne Dyas´ very special day. She is marrying Mr Richard (Richy) Lumb, with whom she has been Siamese-twinned to since 26/12/´94. ´Bout bloody time I hear you cry, my sentiments exactly.
Anyway, I have been receiving various emails regarding wedding venue hotel deals, hen nights and dress fittings for several months now. It does not seem 2 minutes ago since we were attending Fresher´s ball and discovering we were the only two people in York who spoke with a Yorkshire accent.
Now, the reason for this blog is to obviously give my sincere best wishes and congratulations and good luck with the plans and all that jazz, however my main concern is the speech!
Yes, speech. As chief bridesmaid and bestist of bestist friends in the whole wide world I have been nominated to make a speech. This is due to the fact that the Father of the Bride, Best Man and Groom are all absolutely petrified of making a complete and utter twat of themselves in public. Since I have been doing so for the past, well, when did I learn to talk? About 29 years, I seem to be the obvious choice to get the guests into a complete fit of fall of their balloon-decorated chairs with laughter and confirm how fantastic the families, couple, maids, caterers and Dave the DJ are, have been and will be.
I need a plan. I have been advised no rugby drinking type games (come on Leanne, a few toasts will be ´´traditional´´ and no photographs.
Now if you knew Leanne you would know that all the social and non-fascinating events since we commenced uni have been documented, in date order, in numbered photograph albums; they even have their own shelves in the office at her house. No photographs, why did she keep such a chronicle of our mad happenings then, if she did not want them blown up to poster size and exhibited around the very swish venue? Only joking babe. It is your special day and I promise not to show the one of you being sick in the ladies at Old John´s reunion - which you did actually post me a copy off - oh if only you could turn back the clock eh?
seriously you lot, I need help. I am not funny on command, I simply make people laugh when I am not pressured in any way. Now I am feeling the burn - Just before carnival as well, did you wanna spoil the last 10 days of my Brazil trip?
Anyone who knows Leanne or Richie for that matter have you any ideas - on a postcard please. No - email me harperjo@gmail.com. Do not post anything on the web, ´cause she is on it like a hawk.
I absolutely poohing my pants at the thought, seriously. It brings me back to my speech when I was contending against the great Alex AKA Bugsy for the hokey team´s Club captaincy post. Which I of course won - but that is not the point.
NEWS FLASH (DA DA DA DA DA DA DA)
It has stopped raining- Just to let you know I am once again the sunbathing queen of Rio - Not to be confused with the carnival queens. In fact I cannot stay long as the sand is summoning me.
It is our last day in Ipanema. I am pleased since we have exhausted things to do, been in all our favorite eateries at least 10 times each and we are ready to rock roll and rule (read this with a DLT accent please)in Salvador.
Now I must warn you, if you do not hear from me for a while, I will just be living la viva loca at the street parties - which apparently will be going on for the 8 nights (and days) I will be residing there.
Geeves...Pour me another Caprihana.
It is our last day in Ipanema. I am pleased since we have exhausted things to do, been in all our favorite eateries at least 10 times each and we are ready to rock roll and rule (read this with a DLT accent please)in Salvador.
Now I must warn you, if you do not hear from me for a while, I will just be living la viva loca at the street parties - which apparently will be going on for the 8 nights (and days) I will be residing there.
Geeves...Pour me another Caprihana.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
10 Things to Do In Rio In the Rain
1) Buy a nice pair of turn up 3/4 length jeans that make you feel like a new woman.
2) Buy 2 pairs of the oh so trendy, only available in Selfridges, London Havaianas flipflops in pink and black with Brazilian flag (for 3 quid each).
3) Try and buy cheapo underwear from Brazilian version of New Look, get really hot in the changing room because even though it is raining enough to keep a country the size of France in water for the next ten years, it is still 28 degrees F; then get disappointed as your new bra size is not available in any patterns you like and your best mate gets all the little cute bargain sets for herself.
4) Have a full-on pro pedicure with all the fancy instruments of dead hard skin torture for a mere 7 quid. (Mind you the actual painting could have been done better by Stevie Wonder).
5) Drink one of a plethora of juices - Just guess the names of them, this makes it much more interesting.
6) Write a Blog and thus spend shit loads of time in Dirty Net cafes, contracting a multitude of bugs, viruses (both types) and die of thirst due to the air con.*
7) Visit the Statue of Christ the Redeemer (did this on Sunday). Even though it is foggy and you cannot see the top of his head, you suddenly realise you have not been up there yet and you are off to Salvador for carnival on the 4th Feb.
8) Get lost in a Flavela - Slum place you are so warned about in all the books- This was not on my original list of things to do - however as we decided to hike back for over an hour from Christ the Redeemer, instead of getting the quaint little train we had a ticket for - just ´cause there was a break in the rain and it seemed like a great idea at the time.
9) Eat loads of weigh your own food for cheaper than McDonald's prices.
10) Learn Cee Lo Green and his Perfect Imperfections tracks 1-21 off by heart**, ***.
* Please can anyone elaborate as to why net cafes are called cafes? They do not sell cream teas, coffee or pop for that matter.
** I hope this one does not materialise we are due some sun please GOD! ihave mastered about 10 so far.
***Buy this album - Russell, since you are the only one to ever offer comment and you are the only one who is into tunes more than moi, make a purchase - He is a rapper from the South - a player - Shaggy, but fantastic!
2) Buy 2 pairs of the oh so trendy, only available in Selfridges, London Havaianas flipflops in pink and black with Brazilian flag (for 3 quid each).
3) Try and buy cheapo underwear from Brazilian version of New Look, get really hot in the changing room because even though it is raining enough to keep a country the size of France in water for the next ten years, it is still 28 degrees F; then get disappointed as your new bra size is not available in any patterns you like and your best mate gets all the little cute bargain sets for herself.
4) Have a full-on pro pedicure with all the fancy instruments of dead hard skin torture for a mere 7 quid. (Mind you the actual painting could have been done better by Stevie Wonder).
5) Drink one of a plethora of juices - Just guess the names of them, this makes it much more interesting.
6) Write a Blog and thus spend shit loads of time in Dirty Net cafes, contracting a multitude of bugs, viruses (both types) and die of thirst due to the air con.*
7) Visit the Statue of Christ the Redeemer (did this on Sunday). Even though it is foggy and you cannot see the top of his head, you suddenly realise you have not been up there yet and you are off to Salvador for carnival on the 4th Feb.
8) Get lost in a Flavela - Slum place you are so warned about in all the books- This was not on my original list of things to do - however as we decided to hike back for over an hour from Christ the Redeemer, instead of getting the quaint little train we had a ticket for - just ´cause there was a break in the rain and it seemed like a great idea at the time.
9) Eat loads of weigh your own food for cheaper than McDonald's prices.
10) Learn Cee Lo Green and his Perfect Imperfections tracks 1-21 off by heart**, ***.
* Please can anyone elaborate as to why net cafes are called cafes? They do not sell cream teas, coffee or pop for that matter.
** I hope this one does not materialise we are due some sun please GOD! ihave mastered about 10 so far.
***Buy this album - Russell, since you are the only one to ever offer comment and you are the only one who is into tunes more than moi, make a purchase - He is a rapper from the South - a player - Shaggy, but fantastic!
Photo - DIRTY NET
Ok there is finally a pic of Cocopabana Bach Rio - Do not ask me who took it - I found it on the PC in our not so favorite `Dirty Net´ cafe (flea ridden,however it is open ´till midnight so we love it).
Basically I have to use ´Hello Picasso´ to download pics. But you have to have your pics on the PC to make this simple (in theory) transaction and I have not got a Danny (Danny La Rue - Clue. Cockney slang again, sorry) how to it - without taking permanent residency in Dirty Net.
Although it is pissing it down for the 10th consecutive day - yeah - Laugh all you ant at least I am not working and it does not get dark until at least 8pm, I now cannot, even if I wanted to stay in Dirty Net for too Long due to a certain Rodriguez.
Last night I was typing like a fiend, pounding the keys with such intensity it sounded like I was stuck in a bomb blasted building trying to Morse code-it the hell out a there, and I noticed a stranger peering over his station. You know the typical ugly Brazilian? - Now that is hard to find, but I managed. As he moved to pay the cashier he approached me and asked if I was German. No comment! He then said he had emailed me on my hotmail account after peeping a look over my shoulder as I typed a PERSONAL email. "Sorry I am with a friend, please leave me alone", was my polite reply. I would have sworn but the only swearing they understand is Mother F*#@er and that is not in my usual repertoire! If you do know me - You will make a few stab in the dark guesses of a few choice ones, however will instantly know I never use that phrase. So off he went.
I immediately checked my hotmail account and sure enough he had mailed me saying he wanted to chat Is this what these cafes are coming to, a cheap and cheerful way to pull without the offer of even a beverage? Not that I am cheap, ´cause a kebab would have to be on offer if I was even gonna look at ya!
So picture the scene, Sarah is laughing as this guy had made a bit of a stir in the cafe,well,it was me gabbing it across the room telling her the tale that drew people´s attention to me, then the phone rang.
"Oi, you!" (cashier lady´s finger now pointing in my direction, then pointing at receiver).
"Me?"(along with the finger everyone in the cafe´s eyes were now pointing in my direction).
Immediately I thought I was getting a "Someone´s died you have to pack your ruck sack and get your ass back home" type of call.
"Oi, Jo, It´s Rodriguez, will you come drink now?"
"Do you know the translation for stalker?"
"Stoorka?"
"No, STALKER,LOOK IT UP IN THE DICTIONARY", and with that I slammed the phone down - well, you know, I have the full attention of the cafe by this point and with an audience, well, fair play!
So that was that little incident - I was shocked to say the least - Now if only it had been a Speedo wearing-even at midnight in the rain-horny-footvolley playing type of guy, it may have been a different story!
Basically I have to use ´Hello Picasso´ to download pics. But you have to have your pics on the PC to make this simple (in theory) transaction and I have not got a Danny (Danny La Rue - Clue. Cockney slang again, sorry) how to it - without taking permanent residency in Dirty Net.
Although it is pissing it down for the 10th consecutive day - yeah - Laugh all you ant at least I am not working and it does not get dark until at least 8pm, I now cannot, even if I wanted to stay in Dirty Net for too Long due to a certain Rodriguez.
Last night I was typing like a fiend, pounding the keys with such intensity it sounded like I was stuck in a bomb blasted building trying to Morse code-it the hell out a there, and I noticed a stranger peering over his station. You know the typical ugly Brazilian? - Now that is hard to find, but I managed. As he moved to pay the cashier he approached me and asked if I was German. No comment! He then said he had emailed me on my hotmail account after peeping a look over my shoulder as I typed a PERSONAL email. "Sorry I am with a friend, please leave me alone", was my polite reply. I would have sworn but the only swearing they understand is Mother F*#@er and that is not in my usual repertoire! If you do know me - You will make a few stab in the dark guesses of a few choice ones, however will instantly know I never use that phrase. So off he went.
I immediately checked my hotmail account and sure enough he had mailed me saying he wanted to chat Is this what these cafes are coming to, a cheap and cheerful way to pull without the offer of even a beverage? Not that I am cheap, ´cause a kebab would have to be on offer if I was even gonna look at ya!
So picture the scene, Sarah is laughing as this guy had made a bit of a stir in the cafe,well,it was me gabbing it across the room telling her the tale that drew people´s attention to me, then the phone rang.
"Oi, you!" (cashier lady´s finger now pointing in my direction, then pointing at receiver).
"Me?"(along with the finger everyone in the cafe´s eyes were now pointing in my direction).
Immediately I thought I was getting a "Someone´s died you have to pack your ruck sack and get your ass back home" type of call.
"Oi, Jo, It´s Rodriguez, will you come drink now?"
"Do you know the translation for stalker?"
"Stoorka?"
"No, STALKER,LOOK IT UP IN THE DICTIONARY", and with that I slammed the phone down - well, you know, I have the full attention of the cafe by this point and with an audience, well, fair play!
So that was that little incident - I was shocked to say the least - Now if only it had been a Speedo wearing-even at midnight in the rain-horny-footvolley playing type of guy, it may have been a different story!
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