MORRO DE SÃO PAULO

After a hard year work work work, we decided to head north for a week. Ilha de Tinharé is a just off Salvador, Bahia, and the bustling port town of Morro de Sao Paulo is the place to do very little.

We flew straight to the Pousada Vila dos Corais from Salvador airport. This was an unexpected luxury,  but what a treat! - Always wanted to know what it felt like to be one of those swanky types stepping of the tiny executive flight. Now I know. It's pretty cool. The flight home was a different story - put it this way, zero visibility can surely only be fun in limited situations - and in my humble opinion, those planes (or any other vehicles for that matter)  - thoroughly deserve the luxury of being able to see.

Morro de Sao Paulo International Airport

Anyhow - the rest of the week was pretty straightforward - lovely food (all the dende scented delights you could hope for - best go easy on that stuff if you don't eat it that often!) - and stunning shallow beaches for toddlers to fill their buckets with little fish and crabs, rather than the more familiar species of empty beer can and crisp packet found on Copacabana!

(don't get me wrong - I love Copacabana, but the way some people just throw all their crap on the sand is starting to get to me. My latest in a long line of reasons for learning Portuguese more quickly is so that I can be brave enough to pick up someone's crap and give it back to them-- 'Oi, you slovenly bastard, I think you forgot something! - How about putting it in a bin so my kid doesn't keep pulling your cigarette butts out of his sandcastles? Have a nice day.')

Anyway, the Beach in Morro was stunning - our little guy complained at one point that the sea was too hot! - Poor little mite - I guess Brighton must be becoming a distant memory....

Anyhow as our delightful week of doing very little, the Christmas and New Year punters were arriving in force, and it looked like DJ Jane on the top of the hill was going to be in for several long nights. What a beautiful place to make your resolutions though - I only hope that the fire-wielding hippy chick we saw in the square manages to set fire her Catherine wheel-come-Hula Hoop in time. (on the night we were there, the breeze was posing a threat to her eyebrows and her sanity).

I like to ride my bright orange bicycle.....

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For a good number of weeks now, there have been a growing number of bright orange bike stations appear around the town. I heard a rumour, that they'd tried it before and they all got nicked. Well, they're definitely trying it again.

A Rio Cyle track - right in the middle of the bloody road. Nice.

Much like the Boris (and Barclays) Bikes of London - I like that the bank that did so little for the man on London's streets is now charging hime for a two-wheeled tour - Itau is now sponsoring a fleet of bright orange, six-speed beauties for the man (or woman) on Rio's streets to go out and get mangled in the traffic.

Its astonishingly good value at R$10 per month if you prepay by card. Just rock up at the station and call the number from your mobile. Type in the bike's number and it will be magically unlocked from afar. Now dive into the traffic and have an hour's dicing with death.

When you're done, just return the bike to any of the stations dotted around town. (you have to pay an extra R$5 if you go over an hour)

Simple eh? Its gonna be the Amsterdam of Latin America. Maybe.

Back in Brighton, there's an anual naked bike ride - maybe that might manage to make the traffic at least slow down a bit - what do you think?

What We Did At Rock In Rio

Yes it is his hair. He´s got the receipt.

Well, we went and rocked - and here´s a few things I´d do If I went again. And a few I wouldn´t.

Overall, I have to say it was a fantastic night (we went on friday for Elton John and Katy Perry and some bird called Rhianna), and the sound quality was amazing for such a big event. The big names did their thing with predictable style and the punters loved it.

Ok here goes - do this:

1. Sort out your transport, preferably in both directions. If you want to get a bus the final couple of kilometers, you probably  need to buy a 'Riocard' first.
2. Wear shoes that might offer some defence against the thousand or so clumsy bastards that are going to dance on your feet.
3. Take money in small denominations. Its amazing how the price of a tinny goes up once they lay their eyes on your hefty note. I heard that cans (R$1 in the supermarket) were changing hands for R$20 in the wee hours of Saturday morning.
4. Get some rest before you go. The whole process is pretty knackering, so it might be advisable to not go out and have an accidental skinful the night before.
5. EAT! - Once you get inside, finding yourself hungry might just mean that you die of starvation in a queue to spend your life savings on a ropey looking burger.
6. Check out the whole place! - We caught a great band on Rock Street - well worth a listen.
7. Buy beers MANY at a time. The queue is enough to make you want to cry slowly and meaningfully. At least when the waiting is over, you can get stuck into more than one overpriced Heineken.
8. RELAX, even if your nerves are about to snap. Remember that moving this number of people around is no mean feat. Remember that one of the reasons you came in the first place was to be amoung so many people. Chill out and sing along.
9. SING/SHOUT/WAVE - Heaven knows you paid enough for your ticket.
10. Watch the highlights on telly! - I absolutely loved catching the best bits over a Pizza at 3am.... Almost felt like we were there all over again.

Some bird called Rhianna

And don´t do this

1. Don´t  drink too many before the bus journey.... Obvious advice I know - but the 40 minute bus ride to Barra took us 3 hours! - And nobody´s date likes to see their other half pissing in a bottle, do they?
2. Don´t sit down in the middle of the crowd without any warning (you know who you are!) - Its hard enough thying to make it through the singalong masses, but if a bunch of revellers suddenly decide to make the lawn their living room, then another bunch are going to fall over them.
3. Don´t wear flipflops. Only utter plonkers wear flipflops to Rock in Rio. Guess what I wore? Oh, and don´t wear crocs either - I´m all for starting an anti croc movement for no sensible reason. I just hate them.
4. Don't get too disappointed if things don't go according to plan. In fact, just be glad if you get there.
5. Don´t wander off anywhere outside the Rock in Rio site. Especially not on your own - stick to where the crowds are. There are some really dodgy looking types around.
6. Don´t take a posey camera. In fact, don´t take anything swanky at all.
7. Don´t try and get to the front.  - If you wan´t to be down there, then get there earlier, if not you´re going to spend the whole of the set pissing people off by treading on them.

That´ll do for now I guess. Did I miss anything?



He kissed a girl and he liked it.



Sunday Afternoon Bike Ride!

You'd look sweet upon the seat.....

This afternoon we  rented bikes and zipped around the Lagoa. There's a generously wide cycle track all the way around the 7km circumference. It really is very pleasant indeed. And with a banging hangover, an ideal way to blow away the cobwebs before getting back on it.

We really should go more often - its super cheap ( R$10 for an hour of bone shaking fun.) - and that included the 2-year old seat and helmet for the little man - a pretty good idea considering its been years since I was last on two wheels. We made it unscathed, and I soon remembered how to do it. It is, after all precisely like riding a bike.

Love Jazz?

As part of the roaming international Jazz festival, John Faddis is coming along on Saturday afternoon to brighten up our day. I spend a considerable portion of my life trying to play Trumpet like this wonderful bloke.

If you´ve not heard of him, chances are you´ve heard him. The music on offer here at the moment really blows me away.

Nothing else to do? Go have a listen, its free. Praça dos Correios, 4pm.

http://ilovejazz.com.br/en/atracoes/rio-de-janeiro

Nice hooter. No, really.

The John Faddis gig is a tribute to Miles Davis, which ties in nicely with the "Queremos Miles" exhibition at the Centro Cultural Banco do Brasil nearby. Much as that mans demise breaks my heart, I can only wonder at how this one man changed music forever. Not that many people did that.

Insert witty caption here

Hidden Gems; Sunday in the park

Parque Estadual da Chacrinha (map) or
Parque Estadual da Chacrinha (website)

Sometimes you could be forgiven for thinking you were back in the woods in England somewhere. But more often than not, there's a swift reminder that, although the greenery might be reminiscent of our green and pleasant land, the reality is most definitely many thousands of miles removed.

This morning we had friends over for coffee and then went to the park just across the way.   Now, nobody likes a show-off, but if you stroll into the park and a chorus of 20 or so chattering monkeys happen to be on top form, along with a pair of toucans flying from tree to tree, I couldn't help but feel just a little bit like a smug bastard. I felt like I'd just walked onto the set of the new Rio cartoon movie. And all within 5 minutes of the front door.

The blokes were more intrepid (including 2 under fives) and ventured into the woods. Pretty cool - but maybe a tad steep for a nearly 2 year-old.

Back in the main park, it was a hive of juvenile activity with kids parties and a football pitch, swings, slides and a couple of sheer drops onto concrete landings just to remind you that (if the monkeys and toucans weren't enough reminder) -  this is Brazil after all.

All in all a lovely way to kill an hour or so - but best keep an eye on the little ones - no one likes to see a plummeting toddler.

What you staring at?

Lets have a night to remember...

We we screaming and yelling for the ones on the left,

Not least because It was the first time in my life I've watched two football matches in one evening. I've never really been that fond of the game (i blame the wankers back at primary school... grrr - you  know who you are.) In any case,  there is no denying that in all probability, you're gonna wind up watching it from time to time. Living in Brazil meant that it was only a matter of time.

We have guests at the mo - and one of the things they were keen to do was to go to a game. The only one that worked with their timings was Botafogo vs Avaí.

2 - 1 to the locals! - A result - and the small but enthusiastic crowd went mental. Proper eleven out of ten mental. Both samba bands erupted. Grown men cried. Strangers embraced. This was a mid week league game against a small second from bottom club. Blimey.

No beer allowed inside which was staggering, seeing as it seems to be acceptable to drink it in any other situation whatsoever. Still, never mind - the soft drinks woman may or may not have been willing (for a fee) to spike your pepsi with vodka - I couldn't possibly comment.

Not only water into wine, but also on the bench for the men in red and black...

We watched the Flamengo vs Santos game in Arco Iris Da Lapa - with a decidedly chic young and beautiful and absolutely pissed crowed. Once again the enthusiasm for the match was equal to nothing else I've seen.

5 - 4 to the locals. Shit hot. Cab home just about as plastered as my 200 new Brazilian mates. Quality.

I would travel the world to get the beers in here. Oh, I did.

Gadding about - Arraial do Cabo

This was a slightly warmer day...

The sea at Praia Grange, Arraial de Cabo  reminded me of the time I  swam in the Baltic Sea on a trip around Lithuania. Fortunately now that I am older and wiser, I stopped short of a full-on swim and called it a day once I'd dipped my big toe. Quite enough of that thank you very much. Apparently some feat of nature helped this stretch of water reach -2 degrees earlier in the year. Watching a Carioca take a dip in that would be a sight to behold.

The unusual temperature is explained by uninterrupted stretches of water reaching the south pole, according to Alex, the guy who sorted us out with a cool box full of tinnies. Its also the reason that there are types of fish here not seen elsewhere in Brazil. So There you have it.

Spectacular beach though, by even the snobbiest standards. And its some 50 kilometres long, so you can grab your own private bit of paradise if you don't mind a stroll.

We stayed a couple of nights at the pousada recanto do atalaia - just five minutes from the beach. A real warm welcome - even with a noisy nearly two-year-old. We'd definitely go back, even just to have one more night between the jungle-style sheets. Very Austin Powers.

oh my good grief

and this little piggy walked all the way home...

Ipanema Market Av. Visconde de Pirajá, 499 - Lunch of distinction

Click here for the website

Even the furniture looks better than Ian Beal's fruit and veg stall.

Ooooh - what a treat. If you fancy splashing out on a fancy lunch then this might well be the place for you.

We had skewers and mash. Literally a rare treat. Ladies had black risotto and cous cous. The risotto was probably made by the God of rice himself. No kidding. Greg Wallace would have shat his pants.

All accompanied by posh booze and coffee with a teaspoon of fudge on the side. Cute touch I thought.

Not exactly the lunch I could stretch to on a weekly basis, but quite the place to prove you can keep up with the Jones' if that seriously is still your thing.

Now, I may very well have not let him in...

Also, if you need any incentive to get up in the morning - the breakfast menu looks rather spectacular too.

For a more foody revew (or if you simply don't trust me) try here.

Santa Teresa

Blimey - its been a while - and I have so much to bang on about. I've been out and about and neglected to drone on about it. Just in case I someday need to jog my beer ridden memory - here goes with a wonderful morning out we had a couple of days ago.

Grab the Bonde for this one! - And hold on to your hat! - And by Bonde, I mean the 30ish seater street car that goes from Carioca right accross Lapa and up to yet another spectacular vista. Don't reckon I'll ever tire of looking at this place. Oh, and don't worry if there aren't enough seats - it seemed like it was perfectly acceptable to be a complete mentalist and just stand on the running boards, clinging on for dear life - this apparently used to also be the preferred use of the Bonde for the assorted bandits that liked the look of the captive transportees. Ahh, the good old days. Problem is, those days are nearly (but not absolutely) behind us. Best leave the family silver at home.

If you want to give your mother-in-law a souvenir then this is just the ticket. 50 metres up with a proper dodgy fence between you and certain smashed limbs is quite an adrenaline trip. Not to worry though, the views, beers, crafty  pricey hippyesque boutiques will make it all worth while.

Heres a link to the whole heath-robinson boneshaking experience.

Know what. If you only have a day in Rio, do this. It really is something.

Fight for your right to Paraty

So we went to Paraty this weekend - a mere 260 odd kilometres along the coast. And the coast is pretty spectacular. Every few miles there is some delightful beach or other - You could easily make a day of the journey. Wonderful.

This weekend was the feast of Corpus Christi -  and a long weekend for most of us. We heeded advice and got up at the crack of dawn to hit the road while most of the snoozing Cariocas were still fast asleep. Sound advice indeed - even if getting up in the morning is about as appealing as punching yourself in the face.

Well, as a reward for our commendable early rising, we were rewarded with near-silent road conditions and made our way down to the wonderful historical landmark without incident. Our digs were cool too. We stopped at Mangu´s Posauda - one of about a thousand and one to choose from (although I´m told at peak times you definitely need to book ahead - even if you want to stay somewhere crap.)

I knew one day I´d end up at Magnus again

Our room was just up the stairs.

The historical pedestrianised part of the town is a real gem. Loads of chiq eateries to practice your Portuguese in, and loads of street vendors to make sure you don´t have to walk more than ten feet without a drink in your hand. You´r gonna need one if you want to stay sane pulling a buggy over the confounded cobbles!

Ok - Buggy over cobbles is easier than buggy through the flood...

Violinsta no Telhado

(as ever, the real fiddler was in the pit...)

Ok - so I unreservedly take it all back. Broadway musicals in other languages can work. Actually, they can work really well.

One of my earlies memories of the theatre is 'Fiddler on The Roof'. Now I´m not precisely sure when I first saw this show - but I know I was really small (maybe even 2 or 3) - the perfect age to be educated about xenophobia and pogroms. No wonder I turned out to be such a balanced and rounded individual.

The show has popped up to haunt me at various points in my life ever since, and given that it must be 5 years or so since I last saw it, I should have known that I was due for another onslaught. Allbeit here in Brazil.

Ok - going to the theatre here is a big deal and not cheap. So remember to be half smart and not half pissed. Check. Now enjoy the ride.

The biggest difference that struck me the moment the Violin cadenza started, was that the whole thing was going to be at a volume akin to listening intently to an angle grinder at close quarters. Fortunately, the pain soon subsides and it turns out that it is actually a pleasure to listen to a well mixed sound where I can actually here everything. (even if it was like being at some kind of quasi stadium style broadwayesque production)

The band were great, and the cast totally convincing throughout. I was really moved - and I have to say that once you know the story, I don't suppose it matters what language they´re speaking.

At the interval I went and stared into the orchestra pit and exchanged a smile with a couple of the players. To me that place will always be the engine room of the theatre. I couldn´t help but feel a smidgen of envy.

I swear I´m getting softer by the day.



Do you love me? Do I bollocks.

anyhow, if you want to go then click here...



Cristo in the red....



Anyone else seeing red?



As part of my effort to blend in with the commuting masses I grab a free paper each morning before I jump on the bus. This way I effortlessly blend in to the hoard as I leaf through the pages. Surely such a confident guy must be Brazilian, despite his over tall, over fair, booted and suited swagger (no, I havn´t got a limp - its a macho swagger)?

Anyway  whilst perusing the toxic propaganda filled pages of the ´metro´ (heh - 'spose that makes it quite simalar to a 'metro' I used to read!), I noticed  that to mark the occasion of 'World No Tobacco Day' yesterday, the powers that be changed the bulbs and Christ The Redeemer was bathed in red limelight for one night only.

Nice touch. And I'm told that the inspiration for this theatrical display had nothing to do with the slightly murkier red lights found in other parts of town.

Me & Macca

the fab 3 (plus a buggy)

Well, when I say Paul McCartney, I mean a bloody good real life impression of him. So good infact, I felt like taking my shoes off and following him accross the nearest zebra crossing.

Beatlemania 40 something years on (and without the other three) has firmly established itself here. Paul is our new neighbour at the nearby Copacabana Palace Hotel, and he's doing a couple of gigs out in "Engenhão" tonight and tomorrow. To be honest, anyone would have thought that Mr Lennon himself had teamed up with Elvis to do a couple of numbers, - but it seems that Paul alone is worthy of this incredible hype.

I wonder if he had the same room Miley Cyrus had last week.....

Its 25 years since Paul played Rio - which really makes me feel old. I remember my grandma buying me the tape of the concert to put in my walkman. To be honest I reckon he'll hardly change the set list this time - if it aint broke and all that. 

Everybody here has been waiting for this moment for months and we stumbled upon a fair sized crowd staking out the hotel this morning. Oh to catch a glimpse of the legend as he polishes of his full english. I met one bloke who was the absolute spitting image of Paul in the Sgt Pepper era - tash and all. I mean it. People were lining up to get a photo. I joined them - he was decidedly amenable considering the number of randoms harassing him. Come to think of it, a twenty something Brasilian Paul McCartney doppelgånger deserves to be the subject of some mild harassment at least. 

Hope its a good gig - its R$180 - R$700 a ticket (68-260 quid!) - At that rate, I'd not only expect  Jude and Michelle and Prudence and Eleanor and Sadie and Sally and Anna and Martha and Madonna (to name but a few) - I'd also expect Nancy's phone number!

Oh for god's sake.

Breakfast of kings

The Cafe Imperial, Rua Vouluntarios da Patria

Coffee, beef sandwich,death by chilli. Take a bow Andy, you did very very well.

This place reeks of tradition. And it does everything with style. If this place were in London, people would travel from far and wide. Once a weekish, this is where I treat myself, however deserving! This cafe is worth a 6000 mile commute for any self respecting member of the modern workforce. Have the chilli sauce, even if you only stop by for an apple. Bloody hell. Nuff said.

Location:R. Voluntários da Pátria,Rio de Janeiro,Brazil

Told you it was old - here it is way back when...

Itaipava

It amused me that the message here seemed to be: ín order to light the barbeque, get absolutely trousered.

Itaipava is about an hour out of Rio, traffic permitting, and each weekend hoards of city types jump on the motorway to hobnob with mountain folk.

This time of year seemed like a good time to go and sample the pseudo alpine hospitality (we even went to a German style sausage restaurant!).

What cracks me up is that in these inclement freezing times (it nearly dipped below 20 today) it seems there is nothing more chic than to put on a big jumper (and even a scarf) an sit on a terrace somewhere clinging to a hot chocolate for all you are worth.

Personally I want to see If I can go a full 12 months without wearing a jumper. So far so good.

The highlight of the weekend had to be our (extremely) successful churrasco. This Brazilian art form is not for the faint hearted, and we knew we were taking on a tough challenge as we blitzed the supermarket and bought the essential gallons of beer and picanha (the sublime cut of beef that really is a must on these occasions).

Lighting the fire was a bit tricky, until our delightful housekeeper pointed out that it would be much easier if we just plugged in the massive electric fan and blasted it until the ensuing inferno threatened to burn the bloody place down. Still, I reckon we had enough beer to douse the flames and get trousered. Nice.

It rocked. Really. And to top it off the beer was 89 cents a bottle. Which beer? Itaipava of course - very nice too.´ Can't thank our friends enough for getting us away from it all. Just what the doctor ordered. Nice one.

Itaipava, the beer.

Itaipava, the place they named the beer after. And you can see why. Frankly I might suggest it as the name for our next child.

How To Show Off In Rio

Oh how proud I was last Thursday when I had another chance to show off my new home from home....

This time I was tour guide for one evening only, so I planned it down to the last drop. I have to say it went rather well - so if its a boozy whistle stop Copacabana type of evening you're after, you might want to try out something similar to this. Here goes.

Step 1...Fail (once again in my case) to catch the sunset at Arpoador. This time we were all there with time to spare. Unfortunately a coupla perfectly positioned massive annoying clouds were too. We grabbed a couple of cans and went to stand on the rock anyway. I have to say the surf was up. Bigtime. Seriously - guinness and old spice combined would have binned it all and started filming again. Personally, I couldn't find anyone to hold my tinny, so I had to stay on terra firma. Bummer dude.

Step 2.... Head off towards posto seis (where the big din was way back in February) for a cheeky caipiirinha at a kiosk. By far the best value and after a couple of beers, it should really help to get a buzz going.

Step 3.... Cross into the middle of Avenida Atlantica and peruse the art stalls and souvenirs while trying not to give away the fact that you're an entourage of tipsy gringoes. Blow your cover completely by walking into the lobby of the Hotel Othon Palace.

Step 4.....Take the lift up to the 30th floor 'Skybar' and have another caipirinha by the pool. (this is the point at which showing off my fluent portuguese to the wonderment of my guests fell flat on its arse when neither of our waiters had a clue what I was uttering). Incidentally, the loo is past the lifts and on the left (just to save you an embarrassing game of charades).

Step 5...... Head along Barrata Ribeiro to the wonder of wonders, the Pavão Azul. Order Pasteis (smashin deep-fried envelopes of happiness - the cheese and sun-dried tomato ones won this time). Drink shedloads of Antartica Original whilst stood around a stood in the middle of the pavement. Don't knock it 'till you've tried it. Thursday nights may never be the same again.

Step 6....... At this point I decided that step 6 was to abandon my mates and go home before I did anything too daft (such as embarking on a one-man stag do and winding up swinging by my bollocks from the nearest lamp post - very wise Andy, very very wise. My how you've learned)

The rest of the entourage, however, powered on with the boozing and wound up jumping off a nearby cliff. 

But thats another story.

The Glorious Blue Peacock. Mwah.

Arpoador (where we nearly saw the setting sun)

Ahh, the Setting Sun - one of my favourite Brighton boozers...

Still, I digress...

Now, when I say nearly saw, you know precisely what I mean. We faffed about and  missed it. 


But a school of budding photographers and more than a handful of passers by can't be wrong. 
Arpoador is the area where Copacabana turns into Ipanema, and there are all manner of distractions. The waves here are probably the most impressive within the city and that attracts all manner of dudes. There's a great little extreme shopping mall for roller bladers and boarders of all varieties. The skate park it right at the top of the hill. 

There's beer too, from any number of sellers near posto 7 (also handy if, like me, you're a stickler for tradition and like to go for a wee in an actual loo) to the swanky looking Astor bar just along into Ipanema proper. Good grief, I feel like a one man commercial. 

Most of all though there is the rock, with the shit yourself view of Copacabana in one direction and Ipanaema in the other. Apparently, if you get your act together and turn up on time, the sunset is breathtaking and there's a round of applause as it disappears. 


So stunning, I'm told that it makes one forget the occasional waft of piss. Now that really must be beautiful unmissable moment. 


PS. - Don't hang around too long after the main event. I hear that getting off the rock after dark may well lead to an unwanted rendezvous with someone or other seeking to borrow some cash, or a camera, or both. We vacated the area while it was still pretty buzzy. 


Sometimes it pays to do things on time.

Our boy and Ipanema... almost sounds familiar.

And here's one I stole.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Shopping Cidade Copacabana

Lovejoy would have loved this.... (click and see if you can still sing along!)

The second floor of the shopping mall at Shopping Cidade Copacabana is a gem. A real find. Its like a glorious step back in time and a trip around a shopping mall just as its meant to be. Not a global label in sight - just shop after shop of delightful chic surprises.

Art lovers, antiques hunters - don't miss out. This is where you should buy something truly groovy to take back with you.

And to think we found it by accident.

The retro spiral ramp in the middle of the mall is a must-see. And the car fumes are free!

Once you get over the feeling of being an extra in 'The Shining' it really is  a top place to browse..

The Zoo

I'm a bit nervous about visiting a series of imprisoned animals at the best of times, and today was no exception. But, you know how it is, one thing led to another and before I knew it, I was headed across the park towards the incarcerated doolittle exhibition.

Turns out it wasn't too bad, although (and i'm no expert in these things) I reckon a grown tiger deserves enough space to swing itself in.

Incidentally - there are a pair of tigers there aptly named William and Kate - although there was no evidence of their wedded bliss. (nor were the penguins and giraffes joining in a disney-like chorus of 'oops upside yer head.) - I'm not kidding - here's proof:

ROYAL TIGERS AT RIO ZOO!

Needless to say we left the zoo sharpish.

(Its really cheap to get in though - R$5 buys you all the caged up shenanigans you can goggle at!)

I quite enjoyed this one - although I did find it hard not to go - oo ,oo,oo at the Monkies

Count the turtle's heads.....

Herein lie some massive nasty bastards. Go ssssss at them if you want - they'll deal with you as they see fit.