The Riolly long way home...

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Eventually arrived back in Rio and got a cab back to the Wave hostel. Only for two nights so didn’t really mind where. Got a shower and got changed before meeting the girls for a late dinner in a restaurant where amusingly there was a mental woman being arrested for nicking someones handbag. Very entertaining.

Had a lovely long lie-in the next morning, and headed to the beach for some last minute rays. Weather wasn’t that great though, so ended up coming back to do some shopping, buying a few pairs of havaiianas for my lucky relatives, as well as a natty pair of green nike airs for myself. Only available in Brazil. This made me quite cool.

That night was a Sunday night, and the only places available for going out were the favella party (couldn’t be bothered) and one club in town - bunker- where we (myself and the Swedish girls) duly went. Turns out it was a very flamboyantly gay night. Super. Anyway combated this by staying with the girls all night, and staunchly not looking at anyone.

Next morning involved another lie in, although only until about 10, as my taxi was picking me up at 12 to get to Rio airport for my final country-hop for a while. Quite an odd feeling, and slightly upsetting… Anyway, packed up my stuff and rammed it into my (now quite broken and very definitely scruffy) bags before heading out of Rio, as I found it, in the rain. At the airport had one final passport related panic before getting my bags taped up so the bits of scarf and shoe and sock that were currently poking out the sides actually made it back to England with me, and then got on the plane.

Flight home took a really long time- got a bit of sleep but suffice to say when I arrived in London at about half seven in the morning (I think I’d gained a few hours, maybe even a day) I felt a bit rubbishy. What didn’t help was the fact that I had an hour to get from one terminal to the other, and kept getting stopped for having my contact lens solution. This got binned. Made it onto the Manchester flight (just), where people were reading the times and on the flight for business- a very strange feeling, but was so tired I didn’t care.

Had a bit of a doze on the way up north, and then it was back to Manchester departures lounge and some bizarrely quite happy parents. One of whom’s first reactions was “You haven’t lost your glasses”. Fair point, I was surprised about this as well. The other’s reaction was to ask when I’d be getting a job. Back to the real world then… Bollocks.

Good trip though.

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