|I'm pretty sure it wasn't one of these guys that blew up the rubber glove...|
In fact the nice man from Policia Federal blew up a rubber glove and tied it in a knot in order to calm our little man down and persuade him to give his thumbprint! Quite funny really - Reckon if i'd made the same fuss we'd have been standing in line at the check-in desk for the next one way flight to London.
Anyway - I think our immigration process is drawing to a close. Today we went back to the airport where no less then three (3!) people were on hand to guide us through the process of presenting our visas to the powers that be in order to become part of the (temporary) roll call. I can't help feeling that all these lovely helpers were on call simply to prevent any smart-arsed comment or incident of inappropriate huffing and/or puffing from pissing anybody off. I'm sure one or two folk have, on occasion, fallen victim of the temptation to make known their feelings about the sheer magnitude of this colossal work of bureaucratic art.
My advice - should you ever need to achieve your residency status in Brazil - Just behave yourself at all costs. I 'm sure the bloke that blew up the rubber glove to the ensuing delight of our one-year-old was quite capable of arranging alternative hospitality if he needed to.
|And I'm positive it wasn't him|
All this said - it went rather well. We now each have our temporary Brazil ID documents (protocols) which I'm sure will help to postpone the apocalypse, should it be due anytime soon. We headed into town where I completed a medical. Quite a simple process (no coughing or anything, if you know what I mean) - I passed. Must admit it feels wonderful to be a model of health.
And on we go...... Tomorrow (fanfare, drum roll, dancing girls please) we go and pick up our CPF numbers. And then heaven knows what's going to happen. Our official existence in this fair tropical paradise will be official. Shits and giggles ahead, no doubt!