Just the two of us....

So, mum is working away back in blighty in the freezing bloody cold, where the trains are late, and the chavs take to the streets and pilfer the flat screens they need to survive. Back to the Horse & Groom and the beer in glasses big enough to swim in. Am I jealous? Yep. A wee bit. More than anything I miss us being an invincible trio.

When we moved to Brazil I had no idea how much it would remind us how close we are. Dealing with this whole adventure is the ride of my life, and I love every second. Even if it takes some reflection to love the shit bits.

Right now I'm sinking cold beer on the beach, waiting for him to wake up for the next installment of his glorious 2 year old life. I just want to share every last drop of it. (his 2 year old life, not my beer)

And to be honest I'm pretty knackered too.

Still... She'll be back before we know it. Best go and do the pots.

another cheeky Copa tinny, in a glass this time - it is Sunday after all....

Abacashheeeee!

Ilha Grande

This wonderful hideaway lies about an hourish of the mainland, and from the moment we boarded the passenger ferry, the craziness of our urban neighbourhood was already a fading daydream.

This place used to house an infamous prison for the especially dangerous and deranged. No surprise really- I'm sure that any would-be escapists would have stood more chance in Alcatraz. And that's always assuming they'd managed to survive the onslaught of a billion or so hungry mossies.

Our pousada was the delightful Manaca, right on the beach (infact we had to drag our stuff a short walk across the sand to get to the gate!) Clean room, hot shower, fantastic breakfast. Nuff said.

The weather was crap mind you, but who minds swimming in the rain if the water is so clear and warm? A couple of hours walk (or an hour on a boat) takes you to Praia Lopez Mendez, apparently one of Brazil's top three beaches. (according to our host at the pousouda)

My advice? Drop everything and get over there for a weekend away from it all.

Just take a bath in insect repellant before you get held prisoner by a million or more flying bastards.

Just another pristine paradise....

Gay Pride in Copacabana

We wandered down the beach yesterday afternoon with a couple of visitors who were over from London. It was about 11am and things were already hotting up for the Gay Pride parade, due to happen in the afternoon. Clearly many of the revellers were going to make this an entire day on the sauce.....

After lunch things were beyond busy, and everybody was drinking something - quite a few had abandoned decorum altogether and had taken to chugging bacardi straight from the bottle.

The issues seemed to be getting across too, with sexual health stalls and Gay rights pamphleteers doing a grand job. I imagine it only got harder the more wasted people became.

Then the parade passed by - and I have to say that If I ever make it onto one of these mobile sound systems, I'll make sure I smile and wave and dance my ass off (about 50% of the participants seemed to have forgotten that this was their chance! To be honest, it was more fun people watching in the crowd.

And after the parade? An army of a hundred or more orange-clad sweepers, destroying the evidence as fast as it was created.

the orange army......

And as the party goers made their way off the beach in their varying degrees of pissedness, I was once again seriously impressed with the whole-hearted way in which these people properly get on it. I even saw one guy surf the entire length of the banister on the escalator in the metro station. Rock on. I always dreamt of doing something like that.

I love love Copacabana, they really know how to throw a party.

Society maid me do it....

So, we are one of those middle class households who gets a bit of help here and there. I'm not sure how much I like the idea of not doing it myself, but seeing as when I do it myself it's invariably a bottom of the list ballache, I should be grateful that there are a couple or more things I don't have to do.

Our domestic whirlwind means business. She guards the place like the nasiest of junk yard dogs (she chases off deliveries, never to be seen again) - her liberal use of caustic chemicals are likely to put her on the Friends of The Earth hitlist, and she piles up all of our furniture to clean the floors merely by looking at it.

She gets the job done. Even if she stays and irons till 1.30am. (which she did yesterday). We've tried everything we can to get her to go home, short of chucking her out of the window.

I suppose I should try not to leave so much crap everywhere

Escola de Portas Abertas

It occured to me (or rather it has been pointed out quite a few times lately) that, although my intention is to keep an account of the beautiful way in which our family grows from one day to the next while we are here, painstakingly recounting each precious moment as the minutes become hours and days - I more often than not end up talking about boozing.

So for the next 2 minutes or so, I promise a teeny update on our ongoing family life, focusing, as our family life rightfully does, on our little fella.

On Saturday we went to the Creche´s open day. It was a giggle and a half. We watched our little man sing the songs and do the actions. We watched him run about and play with the hula hoops. We joined him for storytime and watched him stroke the rabbit and goggle at the chameleon.

And most of all we learned that, however groovy the nursery may be, the last place you want to be on a saturday is at the office! - After it was all over we went and bought him a new bucket and spade - and went and played on the beach. (and yep - I got the beers in!!! - Promised I´d only bang on for 2 minutes!)

Ok, you´ve got your picture, lets get out of here, I´m spitting feathers.....

gr