My first few days on the beautiful (if unbelievably cold and rainy) island of Florianopolis were marked by several important discoveries.
Discovery 1: People in Brazil can't speak English.
This threw a spanner the size of Africa into the works, as my usual policy is to attempt a few words in the local tongue, and then revert to English whilst smiling ruefully as if to say 'at least i tried.' Given that my armoury of vocab consisted of two phrases, namely 'bom dia!' and 'sou ingles, nao falo portugues' I was forced to put my complete trust in a small book claiming to be an essential guide to learning brazilian portuguese. Because i bought the book from Waterstones (a company i have come to trust and admire in equal measure) I threw it straight in my case and didn't open it until my arrival. In retrospect this was a fairly moronic course of action as the book turned out to be utterly useless, as the author himself would have discovered had he actually been to Brazil before publishing.
Discovery 2: Brazilian hotels don't beleive in heating
Given the frosty conditions we encountered on our arrival, Sophie and I were hoping to warm up and relax in the hotel room. Therefore on entering the room and finding icicles forming on the inside of the window, i went down to reception to ask how we could switch the heating on. The friendly man behind the desk gave me a quizzical look and told me he couldn't help. At first i thought it may have been a language issue (see discovery 1) but after a fifteen minute conversation involving several hand gestures and a large amount of Spanish, I established that there was no heating in the room. I was however invited to make use of the air conditioning unit, i guess in case i found the 4 degree temperature unbearably hot.
Discovery 3: In Brazil you have to pay a fine for being foreign.
At airport security in Sao Paulo i was informed that i would have to visit the Federal Police in Florianopolis within 30 days of my arrival. This immediately conjured up certain images in my mind; handcuffs, interregations in empty warehouses, that chair Daniel Craig gets strapped to in Casino Royale...you get the picture. The reality however was entirely different. A friendly young woman took my details and figerprints whilst giving me tips about the best clubs on the island. The only negative aspect of the experience was having to pay $R200 (about £100) to the police as a fine for being foreign. Take note David Cameron, I think i've found a way out of the recession and its in Birmingham.
Discovery 4: Doing thorough research into housing pre-arrival is a very good idea.
Conversely, turning up and hoping for the best is not. In the four days we spent house hunting we saw a series of pretty bad places. It didn't help that in Brazil 'close to the university' actually means 'fucking far from the university' and that 'room ideal for students' actually means 'tiny, windowless room with no bed, desk, cupboard.....'or anything else.
Having read the paragraphs above dear reader, you could be forgiven for getting a fairly negative impression from my first few days, and i will admit at this stage it did not feel like i had just stepped into paradise
However as a wise man once said 'women are like buses' (with women representing good fortune in this case). On saturday the sun came out. We got into contact with a lady named Sonia, who picked us up from our hotel and took us to her amazing house 5 mins walk from the uni. Having seen the bedrooms (with tv, bathroom et al) the monkey-inhabited garden, the outhouse with kitchen and barbecue and the huge rear balcony, it took us about 30 seconds to decide to live there, and another ten minutes to try and explain so in portuguese.
We then headed to the mainland to see my newly acquired Brazilian team Figuerense complete a crushing 5-0 victory, putting them in a great position for top spot in the league. What the quality of football lacked, the atmosphere in the stadium and the skol beer more than made up for.
The day was rounded off with a trip to the centre, where me and some fellow 'gringos' found an authentic little pizzeria (the head waiter had a moustache) in an unusually quiet part of town. We found out subsequently that this may have been in part down to its notoriety for drug addicts and transvestites. The pizzas and obligatory caipirinhas went down like a treat and we even tried a local speciality of white chocolate and passion fruit pizza. Delicious and disgustingly sickly in equal measure. I think we managed 2 slices between 5 people.
Things were looking up
No comments:
Post a Comment