You've gotta fight for your right to Paraty

---

I'll be honest with you. I'd dreamt up this title for this blog for quite a long time. It just seemed oh so perfect, even if there was no fighting involved, as all it takes is a simple bus journey from Sao Paulo. Or does it? Perhaps aware that I had a blog title in my mind, Brazilian police stopped our bus for a passport check just minutes outside of Paraty. I handed him my passport, and answered all of his questions to the best of my ability. However, it soon became clear that he didn't like the fact that I'd come into Brazil from Paraguay, and he decided to have a good search through the bag I had with me on the bus. Naturally, he didn't find anything he shouldn't have done, but still, this didn't stop him putting my passport in his pocket and declaring "I'll need to keep this for a bit" Uh oh.

A few minutes later he was back, and called for me, and a Brazilian guy opposite me to follow him off the bus. At this point, I was still trying to put all my stuff back into my bag, and so was a little slow in following. When I got off, the other guy was pushed up against the coach front in handcuffs, and one of the policeman was waving a big bag of white powder around. This was not good.

Once our unhappy chappy had been dragged off for his free nights accomodation in a police cell, they turned their attention back to me, and requested I got my backpack out of the bus. It happened to be on the other side to where they were, but as I was walking round to get it, I was rather rudely stopped and told I was not allowed to walk round the bus without a police escort. Like I was about to do a runner!

What followed was a very thorough search of my bag, which ultimately ended in disappointment for the policeman, who I think was quite looking forward to arresting a gringo. You should have seen his eyes light up when he saw my bag of sugar, and the way his hopes were destroyed when he tasted the sweet taste within. Indeed, by the end, he was getting quite desperate, as he asked me -

"So, you haven't got any illegal drugs with you"

Me - "Nope"

Him - "Just a little bit maybe, perhaps some weed?"

It was almost as if he was hoping that I'd crack and just tell him where my huge stash was just to make his night. It was rolled inside my tent in case you were wondering. (Note for all law enforcement officers. The previous sentence was a joke.) You never can be too careful these days. Anyway, I was finally allowed back onto the bus, but when I asked whether I could put my bag back underneath I was told to leave it where it was. Very odd thought I, so I dragged it to where I could see it clearly from my seat then got back on.

It should be noted that my plight had drawn considerable sympathy from some of my fellow passengers, and I had an army bag spotting for me. We sat around for about another 5-10 minutes until the driver got back on the bus, and asked whose was the bag that was lying on the floor outside. I said it was mine, and so he asked why wasn't it on the bus where it belonged. Aaaaaaaaaaaaargh!! I ran off, put it on and then finally, we could carry on and enter Paraty - 36 hours after leaving Bonito.

Stewart

---