Archive for category: Brasil
I remember biding farewell to the owner of the hostel. I spend some time with him and his friends the night before, and they had -to certain extent- an enjoyable character. I’m not sure I remember well now, but I think that they were Syrian (and some from Palestine, maybe?). There or close. Before I got out of the secluded hostel, he gave me a “gift”. That was a block of “paraguaya”, pressed weed. Of course, I wasn’t into flying with that in my luggage, so I refused. But he insisted, never accepting a no as an answer.
And there I was, waiting for the bus smoking as most as I could smoke before leaving the block somewhere close to a tree. Both the process of getting to the airport and the flight itself were strange… not bad, funny to say the least.
14. It took time to get to Ana Rosa from the airport. Lodged in an expensive hostel which was not as good as presumed by its ‘rating’ in a popular web page. Then the typical stuff, that time with chess. Reunion with Alex [us], whom I knew in Valparaíso, December 2oo7. This encounter, although known by us through facebook, would had been also occurred randomly, because both we had reservations for the same hostel. The world of hostels is quite small, indeed.
15. Along with Rohan [in], Lonard [br], I visited Bovespa, the market, and some other parts of the city. After Alex joining us, we went to Vila Magdalena. ‘O melhor bolo de chocolate do mundo’ (The world’s best chocolate cake) in São Paolo it didn’t disappoint, though that statement is clearly exaggerated. Beer and a not warned ‘couvet’. That swindlers…
16. I met with Luiz [br], whom I knew from Santiago (middle of April’08). Out in a tuesday night. Successful lies: A public scandal without public with Fernanda [br].
17. I got all my stuff from hostel I didn’t sleep in. We went to Tietê, Luz, then tried to walk in the park but the rain was being poured too heavily from the skies. So we found ourselves at Luiz’s home, watching ‘Rescue Dawn’, and having a pie of chicken done by its mother. Before midnight, I was in the terminal waiting for a bus to Rio.
I had two intentions that day: visiting Itaipu, just to appreciate the engineery job, and going to City of the East, Paraguay. But the day began late, and the logistics took many time.
I did the ‘visita especial’ in Itaipu, the one that enters into the dam. One curious (to say the least) thing was the noticeably corporative video they put before the visit, where they express the incredibly great things that they are doing.
Conceptually, I crossed to Paraguay, but within the condominiums of the binational, not through the ‘Ponte da Amizade’. It was too late to do so after the visit to the dam. I ended up in the hostel, where I played some pool.
In the border, I met Marcos [es]. Once in Brazil, I went directly to the hostel I planned. It wasn’t satisfactory, though it had good reviews on the Internet.
I visited the Parque Nacional das Cataratas do Iguaçu, and got too exposed to the sun, without any severe effect.
After some hours with the hot Thayane [br] preparing caipirinhas, the undecided confessions of Alberto [co,de], and some standard conversations with some gringas and the owner of the hostel, I called it a night.
They were not the floods in Sta. Catarina those that stopped me. After all, it passed enough time, and it was again a safe and interesting area. I was stopped by the Brazilian bureaucracy, or more precisely, ineptitude: the immigration service was 22 kilometers (in Sta. Vitória) of the customs (2 km from Chuy). I guess that business as EGA give a solution to these bureaucratic problems. But its agency was closed (and the previous day they did not tell me of the potential problems I could have). And in the ‘rodoviario’, they asked me for a permit.
It could not pass the customs with the backpacks. Even if I had solved that matter, I was 22 Km away from complementing the needed papers.
So I just refused to stay one more day there to solve the absurd problems that appeared when trying to cross the border, and I took the bus to Montevideo. I could improvise. I was improvising.
A pity, because, it may have been interesting to write posts like ‘En pelotas em Pelotas’. But then, I was willing to cross through Iguazú.