I left Montevideo on a 19 hour bus journey which consisted of complete boredom as I was on my own, had no music to listen to (No phone remember?), and I couldn't read (I get car sick)! I also nearly got hypothermia due to the fact the bus company seemed to want to kill all its passengers by blasting us to death with air con (Why do they always do that)? I arrived in Florianópolis shivering. As I had no phone (I know I keep going on about it!) the only information I had to get to BB and Prue was a name of a town and a hostel they were staying at scrawled on the last page of my book. Add to that I have also entered Brazil. Its a whole new ball game people! When I first arrived in Latin America 3 years ago I spoke no Spanish at all. I spent most of my first weeks feeling like a monkey that points at things and mimics a lot with big hand gestures and stupid facial expressions to get myself understood. In Brazil they don't speak Spanish. They speak Portuguese. I don't speak any Portuguese! I am once again a monkey! I'm feeling thirsty and in need of refreshment so go to a kiosk and order myself a lovely fruit smoothie with my monkey language and pay for it. I can't wait! A minute later I am handed a huge ice cream cone with a chocolate finger sticking out the top! "How the Hell did this happen! I wanted a refreshing fruit smoothie instead I'm stood here shivering in a bus station with an ice cream with a God Dam chocolate finger!" I think to myself. Of course I don't say anything. I'm English we don't like to complain. My next task is to buy my bus ticket. I go to the desk and say where I want to go to. Everyone looks at me. I say the name again. Still everyone looks at me. I see it written on a sign behind the desk and point.
"Oh! Guarda do Embau" says the man behind the desk while everyone else laughs.
"Yes! Guarda do Embau" I say thinking "That's what I said in the bloody first place?"
I'm now on a bus feeling pretty proud of myself, when after a while it occurs to me that I haven't got a clue where this "Embau" place is. Maybe I have already gone past it? I go up to the driver and I point at my ticket. He shakes his head. "What the Hell does that mean?" I think to myself. I go back to my seat. Twenty minutes later I repeat the process and the driver shakes his head again and gives me a look to say "Sit down stupid monkey pointing girl!" After a while he indicates to me with his hands and the next thing I know me and my bag are shoved off the bus onto the street and I'm stood there thinking "Where the Hell am I?"
After asking a dozen people for directions in monkey language and not understanding any of the responses I arrive hot, sweaty and tired at the hostel, to find a fat guy passed out on the floor in just his Y fronts, while a big Labrador is strecthed out on him. Next to him are 2 young guys in board shorts sat in a hammock smoking a joint.
"Hola. I am looking for 2 English girls? Are they here?" I say slowly and clearly. The two guys look at me blankly. The fat guy is still passed out.
"Prue and Becky?" I ask pleadingly hoping they will understand. They look blank again for a second and then the one with the Mohawk hair, face lights up.
"Yes Prue! Becky. Prue, Becky friend? Carla?"
"Yes! That's me! Well actually its Carly, but Carla will do!" I respond with complete happiness that I have made it, and everyone seems happy. Even the fat guy passed out on the floor opens his eyes for a second to see what all the noise is about. The stoned guys show me to the room door where BB and Prue have left me a note.
"We have gone to the beach. Come and meet us. Cross over the river and we will be in front of the stall with the Brazilian flag."
"How exciting. Hand written notes" I think to myself "Its sounds like a little adventure maybe this not having a phone business isn't that bad after all."
I quickly shower and change and head for the beach. Like the note says I have to cross a river first, so I strip off to my bikini and wade through the water which is up to my chest. The river and the beach are surrounded by forested mountains, which have a dream like effect from the distant. Its all very dramatic and magical. I can see why the girls have chosen this place. I walk around but I cannot see a flag, until in the distance I see a limp shredded Brazilian flag in front of a stall. I head to it but cannot see the girls. "Maybe they have gone for a swim?" I think to myself. I sit and wait, and then I wait some more, and then some more! I feel like everyone is staring a me as the girl on her own on the beach. "Where the Hell are they?" I think. Suddenly hand written notes don't seem that adventurous or exciting anymore. They are just God dam stupid notes actually, that's why God invented Mobile phones! OH yeah! Its that thing again! A Mobile phone, which would have been really handy at that moment in time to text them and ask them where they were, but Yes! I don't have one! I'm in a really fowl mood and have been sat on my own for well over an hour when I see another Brazilian flag straight in front of me. "Oh shit!" I think to myself.
I eventually find the girls in front of the flag. We do the usual girly happy to see again shriek and hug.
"Did you find the place alright. Were there some guys there when you arrived?" asks Prue.
"Yeah! There was some fat guy passed out in his Y fronts and two stoned guys" I reply.
"The fat guy is the owner. He got drunk last night. Did one of the guys have a Mohawk?" Prue continues.
"Yes."
"That's F**k junior! He is like a mosquito flying around me. He just won't leave me alone" Prue carries on talking about the traumas of having a Brazilian mosquito as an admirer, when I interrupt.
"Wait a minute! F**k Junior! F**k Junior! What kind of name is that?"
"Its his name! He changed it by dipole to Derek F**k Junior or something like that" responds Prue. I later find this out to be true when a couple of nights later on the beach F**k Junior proudly displays his bank card with that very name branded on it! I soon see what Prue is on about, as every time we return F**k Junior is around her like the mosquito she described, trying to touch her and get her attention. When we go out at night he is there too, trying to keep any other male predators away from her. One day after many other advances, Prue looses it with him.
"Will you leave me alone! Your like a mosquito!"
Instead of being offended by this F**k Junior seems very happy at being referred to as a mosquito and even starts to laugh and make a buzzing noise like one. Nothing seems to deter this guy. I actually think he was in love with Prue, as he could never take his eyes off her and looks at her like some love sick puppy. Part of me for a second felt slightly sorry for him and then I remembered that he was called F**k Junior by choice and then all sympathy went out the window!
We spent our days in Guarda do Embau sunbathing on the beach, drinking fresh Coconuts, surrounded by what felt like paradise. Our nights were spent drinking too many Caipariania's and dancing to the early hours of the morning at the only real bar in town. We could of quite easily stayed there forever but then there was Rio waiting for us and no one can ever refuse Rio. Rio de Janeiro, from all my travels is probably the most beautiful cities of them all. You have everything any modern city provides but then on your door step you have golden sandy beaches, surrounded by jungle mountains. There is even a lake. Rio is about many things: beauty, fun, excitement, but the main thing Rio is about, is SEX! It oozes it from every pore. Its like everyone is on heat or something? Everyone is on display permanently, be it someone that is fat, thin, young, old beautiful or ugly. No matter who you are or what you look like, everyone is giving off some sexual vibe and there is no better place to see it than the beach. The beaches of Rio are a city within themselves and like a city they all have their different sections. There is the Gay section; the family section, the beautiful people section; the intellectual section, the list is endless. Yes the beaches of Rio are truly the places to be seen, and with not a lot on either. OK so you never go naked or even topless but you don't leave a lot to the imagination either. Me and girls had now become fully accustomed to having our asses on full display and even kind of liked it! The men were just as bad with some of the smallest swimming trunks in history (You could tell what side they dressed too, and I wasn't even perving! You couldn't help but notice)! We were sat on the beach one afternoon when we were looking through some photos we had taken earlier. Prue was complaining how awful she looked in the photos. Now Prue is a very beautiful girl, but I could see what she meant. She was not making the most of herself. "Why do you always look so good in photos?" she exclaimed to me.
"That's because I'm a complete and utter poser Prue, and you need to learn The Carly School of Posing!"
I'm not ashamed to say I'm a poser. I am by no means a great beauty but I feel everyone should make the most of what they have got and posing makes you do that. Besides I have spent 5 years of my life in relationships with professional photographers. You learn quickly what makes a good photograph and what doesn't. So I taught Prue The Carly School of Posing that day in one of the most posy places on earth: Ipanema beach. The rules of The Carly School of Posing go something like this:
* Never slouch. It looks horrible! As a person that slouches a lot in life I have learnt not to on photos. Extend that spinal column. It makes you look thinner as well.
* Always bend one leg, otherwise you look like a statue!
* Turn slightly to the side. Its more flattering.
* Put your hands on your hips, never on your waist as it can make unflattering ceases in the stomach.
* Tilt your head, a little. I don't why! I just do it!
* Lastly always have quite a smug look on your face, that says "I don't really give a Dam if you think I'm a vain, self obsessed, poser, because I'm making the most of what I have got, which at times isn't a lot (Believe me)!So there!"
THIS IS THE CARLY SCHOOL OF POSING! AMEN!
Another things Brazilians are obsessed with is music. Well dancing and music to be precise. We really wanted to go to a real Brazilian music night, not some night set up by a hostel where you down a load of cheap shots; end up being sick and wake up the morning after with some faint memory that you might of kissed an 18 year old on his gap year (That has never happened to me)???? We had been told by one of our guides about a Forró night that all the locals went to and not really any Gringo's. Perfect! Forró is a form of music from Northwest Brazil, just so you all know. We took a taxi to the address given and found ourselves outside a huge old building with a lot of locals milling outside. It felt very intimidating as we looked out of place and everyone was looking at us. This only got worse when we walked inside. A huge dark hall was filled with dancing locals. There was only one problem with this. They were all dancing as couples!!!! Now the last time anyone danced together in Britain was probably during World War 2 or your Grandparents at family function when they start doing some embarrassing slow waltz or something. I have never danced as a couple in my life, nor have the girls. We are prettified. We look like rabbits in the head lights. We quickly head to the bar for some courage from a Caiparinia. We stand round the side of the dance floor, sipping our Caiparinias like girls at a prom with out a date. We watch the dancing. Well if you can call it that. Don't get me wrong there is some fancy foot work but a lot of its seems like they are grinding on the dance floor. In fact they praticially look like they are having sex!
"Well I won't be dancing!" says Prue
"Me neither" Says BB looking uncomfortable for once. I then recall I had danced as a couple once before. In Bogota in Colombia, in a Salsa club. I remembered the initial terror of having to dance and how it cleared and in the end I'd had, one of the funniest nights ever.
"I will!" I said "I just need another Caiparinia first!"
Prue is the first of us to be asked to dance.
"No I can't . I'm English. I don't know how!" she says looking very stiff and proper. A guy then comes and asks me and gets the same response.
"Then why are you here" he asks and walks off. I realise then how terribly English we are being and feel angry at myself. Five minutes later another guy comes and asks me to dance as well, but this time I decide to remove the rod from up my ass and go with the flow. He holds me by the hips and pulls me close to him, so that we are cheek to cheek.
"Feel the rhythm and follow my lead" he says leaving me shocked that he can speak English. We start to move and I find myself for the first minute mainly standing on his feet, but he is kind and encouraging and we continue, till at the end of the dance I find some rhythm. The music stops and he says "Thank you" and I'm left there standing on the dance floor, wondering why he hasn't tried to make a move on me, as that's what I expected from dancing like that and then me having to make awkward excuses at turning him down! But no! Nothing! I'm only alone for a second before I'm dancing the next dance with another guy. With every dance I feel like I'm getting better. The trick is to move from the hip and follow the guy in the grinding process. It feels weird at first to be doing such an intimate, sexual dance with a complete stranger who is so close to you, you can feel his sweat fall on to you. The end result was the same though with every guy saying thank you at the end of the dance and leaving you alone. It made a refreshing change from having your ass felt up by sleazy drunk guys on the dance floor, even if I was pratically having sex on the dance floor. I look around and see that Prue and BB have let go of their fears too and are now enjoying a dance with some locals too. At the end of the night as we take a taxi back I'm feeling happy. It was good to let go of our English up tightness for a night. "Hmmm! I grinded 8 guys on the dance floor tonight! Not bad for a Tuesday night!" I think to myself.
Next stop Ilha Grande.
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