That thong thong thong thong thong

South America
February 4th 2011
Published: February 4th 2011EDIT THIS ENTRY

We arrived here in ihla de Santa Catarina over 2 weeks ago after only planning on staying for 5 days!

Our first day we turned up at the hostel and were welcomed with ALOT of rain. We were shown our room, which was a converted garage, add a b, that's what it really was! After a lot of moaning from Laura about the damp (what a surprise Cardiff girls!) and the smell we made our way to the bar. That night we met 3 londoners, an Indian-Texan and An Australian version of Harrison Ford (from the raiders years). We discovered the real brazillian caipirinhas, 8 of those later and we though we were ready for the room. The next morning we woke to the smell of a reptile room at a zoo. The gar(b)age had flooded. I went to puke and ended up ankle deep in water. Laura ranted, a lot, about customer satisfaction, blah blah blah, then was told that 40 people had died that night from landslides. I couldnt have shut her up better myself. We asked to switch rooms and were promptly moved to a converted kitchen.

Other than that we loved the hostel, more so because of the amazing people we met (peace sign).
Basically, floripa is a very plush holiday resort for the surrounding areas, so lots of great people watching on the beach! The area we have been staying is the 'cool' part, with lots of young people and even more surfers. There are a lot of thongs in brazil. There are more thongs in brazil than there is tooth floss in America. Fact. I was able to go surfing a few times, went lobster red from sun burn and got massive coldsores from burning my lip. This led to a funny situation at the hostel when I was asking for Zovirax and Laura thought shouting 'herpes' and pointing to her mouth would hurry things along. I got a few odd looks. We pretty much chilled out the rest of the time, exploring the island here and there. We were slightly surprised, however, when we stumbled upon a gay nudest beach. It was an odd experience. One I don't want to really talk about. But the words, shlong, chaud and truncheon-twirling come to mind.

One night we went to one of the poshest clubs in South America. P12. The whole bus journey the hostel were shouting and singing, smoking and shotting. We arrived at a quiet swimming pool, somewhat disheartened. It was a great day but not a 'banging day out' as the hostel had told us. Laura commented that it was just a posh public swimming pool with nice sun loungers. We were told 7 o'clock and the party would pick up- all that happened is more Randy teenagers got frisky in hot tubs and ugly brazillians with thongs and camel hoofs danced in broad daylight. We are still assured it is one of the best clubs in Brazil.

Making our way to a colonial town, should be a bit different.

Ciao ciao, for now


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