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.
I hate taking tours, but understandably, few countries let foreigners wander around an active power plant, so we signed up for the Visita Panorâmica aboard a double-decker bus.
For a border city, Foz isn’t too seedy, an exception probably due to the fact it’s just a few kilometres from one of the new natural seven wonders of the world.
The Iguazu Falls is a three-kilometre chain of waterfalls. You don’t just get one waterfall—although the Devil’s Throat is probably the most impressive—but 275 of them.
Looks like the pilot is trying to find a place… ahem, without trees. This is going to be one of these airports where you get off the plane and walk on the tarmac to the terminal, I can feel it.
We should be in São Paulo by now, getting ready to fly back to Canada. But we’re not even close.
I like Curitiba. It’s a good place to deal with Carnival withdrawal, beach withdrawal and you can even take a break from Brazil’s humid and hot weather.
Balneário Camboriú seems to have been designed for those who want to experience the main famous Brazilian attractions conveniently in one place without travelling all over the country.
Gosh, here’s my colonial moment, a French spreading French culture around the world. Enlightening ignorant locals, a beloved European tradition…
On Santa Catarina Island, I resumed favourite activity #52—walking from one end of the beach…
Brazilians can run, drive, fish, swim and possibly have sex with flip-flop—gosh, right now I’m picturing a Brazilian wedding with the bride and groom wearing Havaianas.
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.”
Centro, Lapa, Santa Teresa, Gloria, Catete and Other Places Your Rio Guidebook Told You to Avoid (In Pictures)
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.
What I like is street food, stuff everyone eats, popular local delicacies. Cheap, easy, tasty.
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.”