Pigeons, Pandas and Lobsters

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After our pilgrimage to Cristo yesterday we thought it best to have a few days relaxing on the beach, the beaches being the type of beaches you see the front of a postcard.

The plan was simple in theory, bring only the bare essentials in a plastic bag, bare essentials being an inconspicuous plastic bag, enough Real to purchase a picnic, suncream and Niamhs camera covertly concealed within any empty packet of crisps when not use.

However the plan in practice is far more difficult, Murphy’s Law dictates no plan survives the first contact with the enemy intact and in this case no plan survives the initial setting foot outside the door of the hostel.

Bare essentials now include a sarong, lip balm, Solpadine, antiseptic hand wash headband and various waste from the room (there was method to this*) so the services of the rucksack had to be employed.

The bringing of a rucksack to the beach is expressly forbidden under the “dangers and annoyances section of the” “Rough guide” to South America”,( we will call it RGTSA from now on)…A wise precaution for its readers to take especially when they innocently go off to see Jesus on the hill but end up being ventilated by gunfire, a good mile from said Jesus and having the subsequent posthumous embarrassment of having said extinguishment immortalised on liveleaks.com for the amusement of stoned university students and the various genuine sickos that populate the “internets”.

Despite the fact that my milk like skin would probably not be exposed to temperatures less then 28 degrees for the foreseeable 170 odd days I had the great idea to set my “base tan” by rocking out into the deadly rays wearing factor 15. The idea being that I would get lightly toasted on each side but thereafter not have to worry about such trivial things as sunburn and retinal damage(RGSTSA said the hordes of gun wielding Brazilians would shoot me for my Oakley’s so I left them at home, I could use them now!). However Wally’s long term strategy for preventing sunburn will much go down in history along such strategies as Noel Brownes Mother and child
Scheme and Alfred Von Schlifeen plan prior to WW1, in relation to the later analogy, I am already playing significant reparations to boots in the form of aftersun.

Prior to all this though things were just the Neriodi madra, as dad likes to call it. Chilling out on our “beachtowels”, which in my case was the in flight blanket swiped from British Airways on the plane over as the foresight of packing genuine beach towels was lost to me I was packing the night before departure.

The beaches were less crowded then they normally are on weekends so you can get your own sport and relax despite the occasional beach comber trying to sell you towels, bottled water, peanuts and narcotics. The sun cream seems to melt off as soon as it is applied and your vision becomes a complete haze as the sunscreen melts from your forehead and soaks into your retina.

After some time doing passable impersonations of fresh French toast lying on a red hot pan I decided to go up to the shop and purchase some beer. Brazilian beer as I have discovered is pure Ambrosia and a steal at 1 Real in the supermarket, 1 real being equal to 45 or so cents.

On my return I could see from a good 100 metres away that Blondie had become very comfortable, she had arranged the British Airways towel so that she had the full run of it, clad in a blue bikini and wearing her “bug sunglasses”( I call them her alien glasses) that cover half of her face she was turning plenty of heads. I was in a predicament, I had brought a book down to the beach but had managed to finish it after about half an hour, I had being chewing away on the novel in question over the past few days. I now had nothing to do.

Niamh had gone for a paddle and in the meantime I noticed a number of pigeons’ loitering around the sand eyeing the remnants of our packed lunch. These pigeons were delightful birds complete with missing talons, malformed talons, ruffled feathers and lazy eyes. Despite there appearance and obvious inbreeding I soon discovered they had great personalities though and a craving for peanuts. After gaining their trust with a few thrown peanuts my feathered friends I literally had them eating out of my hand. Niamh returned shortly thereafter and shooed them away before again reclining to sunbathe. Bored and without entertainment I began strategically placing peanuts around the beach towel, the birds would waddle over in that ridiculous walk only pigeons can do and began to peck at the offerings. Niamh would open her eye
From sunbathing notice the close proximity of the birds and then deafen the entire of Cococabana district with a massive ANDREWWWWWW!

Rinse and repeat.

We called time on the beach when it was clear that there were well cooked lobsters on the seafront eateries with healthier skin pigmentations then ourselves. I had chickened out of the factor 15 plan and traded it for factor 50, Niamh had gone for factor 50 at offing but sunscreen that powerful means nothing versus 38 degrees.My epidermis is the same tone as Jackie Healy Raye and Niamh, who wore her alien glasses all day bears a striking resemblance to the greatly endangered Himalayan Red Panda.

The rest of the evening was spent lying in bed and applying after sun, this isn’t nearly as romantic as it sounds considering every movement feels like one is being branded with a cattle iron and the simple act of removing dressing or undressing is like being massaged with sandpaper.

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