I’ve never considered eating an entire roasted chicken, drinking cocktails (that’s what bars are for right?), blasting music on loudspeakers or buying a new bikini right on the beach. Clearly, I’m not Brazilian.
Tropical paradise with all the conveniences of a big city and without the usual island price tag. This message was not sponsored by the state of Santa Catarina (but hey, I can write more taglines if you provide room and board for a while!)
It’s the kind of day when you know you won’t accomplish much except going from point A to point B and hopefully make it to your destination, which is admittedly a goal in itself.
São Paulo has a soul—a heart too, I feel it beating. This megapolis that stretches as far as the eye can see isn’t an overwhelming sea of buildings. Paulistas, those who call São Paulo home, make it lively, fun, interesting.
The sun was shining, the city sounded dead quiet and we didn’t need hangover remedies since we only had half a glass of a mini bottle of cheap champagne.
“Well, I hope you can wait because we don’t really have the choice. First, it’s a bit of an old tradition that the new year starts at midnight, second we’re kind of stuck in a crowd of 1.7 million people.”
It’s only minutes before landing in São Paulo for the second time in nine days that I realized I could barely remember the first three days we spent there when we came from Canada.
This is one of the things I like best about travelling—first-hand experience. You can read all the books you want, chat with people and browse pictures, you won’t truly understand a place until you’ve been here.
You can eat, drink, exercise, shower, play, buy and sell stuff and more on Avenida Atlântica and on Copacabana Beach.
The 15-minute subway trip from Cardeal Arcoverde to Cinêlandia is barely long enough to realize that you’re not just travelling from one neighbourhood to another but stepping into a different world.
Starting a new life in a land where none of your ancestors even set foot on kind of messes you up permanently.
Online gambling in most countries across the world remains a contentious issue. There are some…
Of all the dangers I’m supposedly facing in Rio de Janeiro, it’s the old ladies walking their dogs I fear the most.
We spent Christmas Eve walking along the beach, getting soaked and drying between downpours.
The next day, we took the subway to the Terminal Rodoviário do Tietê, São Paulo’s bus terminal. Fuck. It did look like the Guangdong train station before Chinese New Year.
The first thing you’ll notice during the 40-minute taxi ride from the airport is that you won’t get to explore all of São Paulo—it’s huge.
So, why on earth are we starting the trip in São Paulo? Pure masochism?
Mark is possibly the only kid who was picked up from school early on an otherwise perfectly ordinary Wednesday to take a ten-hour flight straight to the Southern hemisphere.
This year, Christmas started with a lie. I went off script.
Download “Second-Hand Dreams”, a short story.
Last September’s tornado acted as a premonitory allegory of fall.
Parents are often asked if they start feeling like a mother and a father the second they see their newborn—does a kid feel like his parents’ child the moment he is held for the first time?
All week long, I’ve been taking photos of a few typical December scenes around Ottawa with my cellphone. This is what the city looks like right now.