Florianópolis is exactly the place we needed after Rio, and we only realized it after we landed.

We’re now in Florianópolis, a safe place to play with firecrackers because like Trump wisely noted, it’s “an island surrounded by water.”

No wonder Advil is sponsoring the Rio Carnival. After five days of party, plus pré-Carnaval, we woke up cranky and with a headache or various other ailments.

People of Rio tend to use common Spanish words with me when completing simple transactions, even though I show no sign of not understanding them.

This is what usually happens when several thousands of people gather in the empty and boarded up downtown of a giant city with an endless supply of beer

It’s like I’m tripping on LSD. Snow White is having beans and rice in a restaurant, Harry Potter is buying water, three unicorns are riding the subway and a guy is taking off his blond wig and his bra before going for a swim.

I think I understand why the top combo sold in food trucks at the Sambódromo was the “2 Red Bull + caipirinha.”

On day 2 of Carnival, there were no less than 75 blocos scheduled all over the city.

On Friday, at 9:30 p.m., we were probably three of the many, many, many Cariocas and Brazilians getting ready for Carnival. For us, it was starting at the Sambódromo.

We’ll be okay, I thought, crossing the tunnel of death once again on the way back. Rio gets a lot easier once you just embrace it.

The city no longer feels dangerous or confusing, although many aspects of life in Bahia remain a mystery—but that’s fairly normal, Brazil is often puzzling to me.

Suddenly, there were tons of things we wanted to do even though an hour earlier, we didn’t have plans for that last day in Salvador.

After ten minutes in Pelourinho, two things became clear. First, if you’re ever going to set a meeting place in the area, don’t say, “by the old church.” Pelourinho is 40% historical monuments, 10% souvenir shops and 50% old churches.

On Saturday night, for the first day de pré-carnaval, Avenida Oceânica was being swept away by a tidal wave of people. Suddenly, the endless beer supply made sense.

Banco do Brasil was boarded up first. We were walking back from the supermarket late…

“Wait, let me get that straight… you’re buying me roses for the first time in twelve years and I have to offer them to a mermaid by tossing them into the sea?”

This is our fifth trip to Brazil. I find Porto Alegre charming. Feng understands basic Portuguese. I think we’re ready for Salvador de Bahia.

An anecdote illustrating what I call “Brazilian logic,” i.e. things Brazilians make more complicated than they should be and mostly, that we don’t fully understand because we’re dumb foreigners.

There are cities within this city, lives lived so differently that it’s hard to believe there are only blocks apart.

You “oi” people to greet them. I don’t know, it sounds cool, right?

“Good night Mark, you gotta sleep now.” “Why?” “… Because it’s way past midnight and…