Familiar Faces, Different Places

12-14.11.08 Chasing waterfalls
We end our fleeting love affair with Argentina at another of the world´s natural wonders, Igazu Falls. The spectacular scenery features over two-hundred waterfalls pouring forcefully into the earth. We take trails that wind above and below them - and an adrenaline-fuelled power boat that ventures right to the base, soaking us in water and laughter.

The largest, El Garganto do Diablo, is saved for last. The energy created by the cascading torrents is awe inspiring. I stand on the edge above a misted abyss interlaced with rainbows watching swifts dart between the water - thinking it´s better to fly than fall.

15-17.11.08 Beauty and the beach
After raising hell across Argentina we seek tranquility in a Brazilian heaven. It takes 30hrs, including a brief stop at Sao Paulo, before we are sat sipping capirinhas on a beautiful beach in Parity with the ocean ahead and misted jungle hills behind. Paradise found!

Breaking the language barrier
Although Flo does most of the talking, my grasp of Spanish has improved. We even occasionally share linguistic responsibilities - Flo will ask for a double room while I can order a double rum:)

However, crossing the border into Portuguese-speaking Brazil sets us back to square one. While I am fluent in three languages (English, Australian, American) and can even understand the odd word of sober Irish, I cannot comprehend a word of Dutch-influenced Portuguese. Obregado and I´m out!

Bunch of arse!
While not all Brazilians are as beautiful as imagined - for every Giselle there are ten Ronaldinhos - the women do have some sweet cheeks. The beaches are beset with budonkadonk butts spilling from floss thin bikinis.

Imagine the perfect apple sliced down the middle and turned upside down. Ba-doing-doing-doing. ´I ain´t ever seen an. Ass. Like. That!´

The alcoholemist
Since drinking in bars is more expensive than our budget will accommodate, we experiment creating our own capirinhas. After dedicating an entire evening to intense trial and error research we happen upon the perfect formula - crush half a lime cut into segments, add three measures of cachaca and two measures of diluted sugar water. Serve with ice and feel the samba beats dance down your throat.

18.11.08 Familiar faeces
Our eagerly anticipated date with friends from home finally arrives. We meet The Others (Reef, Emelie, Natalie and ´Holiday Jackson´) on a tropical island that could pass as a location for Lost, and shares a similarly mysterious past.

Illha Grande was once a pirate´s sanctuary, leper colony and home to Brazil´s most notorious prison. Nowadays it´s an idyllic paradise of tropical rainforest surrounded by beautiful beaches...if only the sun had its hat on:(

Unfortunately, the weather rains on our reunion parade for the first few days. Since we have time to spare it´s acceptable, but still a shame for Jaynat who only have two weeks - although they cope with smiling faces. Sharing a six-bed dorm during torrential rain also dampens spirits. It feels like life in a goldfish bowl...full of piranhas...without any food! We move before we start feeding on each other and find a chilled hostel where the sun returns.

We celebrate Emelie´s 30th birthday (she´s changed:) aboard a boat that visits several beaches around the island. The evening ends with a suprise birthday cake and us getting drunky, drunky on homemade capirinhas, while the birhday girl is last seen head-banging in front of the mirror...Dudesson Rocks!

We also spend time trekking across the island and visit Lopez Mendez, acclaimed as one of Brazil´s most beautiful beaches. It´s a stunning stretch of coast with squeaky white sand and a palmed fringe - all that´s missing is possibly a floating bar serving passion fruit capirinhas (perhaps by topless mermaids).

26-29.11.08 Her name is Rio
Plans are altered to spend a few nights in Rio for a final farewell before going our separate ways. We ignore the dangers of staying in Santa Teresa - where it´s decidedly dodgy enough for some taxis to refuse entering - as it´s close to Lapa, where regular street parties are held.

Friday night in Lapa is like a weekly Notting Hill carnival. The streets are crowded with New Crack Hustlers while music blasts from the surrounding bars and clubs. It´s a fun but slightly intimidating experience, which I try and alleviate by befriending every street tequila salesman I see - using the twisted logic that if I´m drunk enough to believe I´m invincible, maybe I am!?

The evening ends with an early morning swim where Reef is the big butt of the jokes until he begrudgingly joins us in the pool.

There are reasons that I have given up tequila on several occasions. What seems like a good idea at the time always ends in pain. In this case, a 24hr hangover and an aggravated foot injury that means I miss a guest list performance by Groove Armada (we met the manager at Jay´s hotel) at a club on Sugar Loaf Mountain. I blame it on Rio:)

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