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8th - 14th August: I arrive in Florianopolis, a town of 500,000 people which straddles the water seperating the 100km long Island of Santa Caterina from the mainland, to fine weather and clear seas. I meet up with Fernanda and Leticia who I met in the Pousada in Rio who show me the best places to go out. Leticia and I take mountain bikes (finally) and we ride across the hilly island to the beaches exposed to the Atlantic.. amazing views, great sunset and world class beaches. The youth hostel I stay in holds 2 groups of lawyers from all over the country attending a Congress of over 1000 delegates. Itīs stimulating to talk about life as a lawyer in Brasil after having so many friends in Adelaide practicing law. Finally, I have found a place that I can recommend to Jo and my parents.. come stay! Florianopolis is safe, clean due to the fresh sea breezes and rain from the mountains and fun - a great holiday spot with horse riding, paragliding, caves, spas, dune boarding, seafood, surf, mountains, ecological parks, theme parks, architecture, culture and friendly people. People obey the law here, stopping at red lights at night; bus drivers wonīt open the doors unless they are at a bus stop.. but maybe thatīs due to lack of the company competition found in Rio. I finally get a good flat white coffee in Brasil, but still canīt figure out why they live of UHT milk with so much rainfall for dairy cattle. The weather is coolish (24 ish) and I decide to stay here rather than heading further south, so I spend some time looking for an appartment, eventually finding a beauty on the lagoon, overlooking yachts with views in two directions (including sunsets over the mountains) and a balcony. Most of the touristy places on the exposed beaches are empty, but the lagoon area (Lagoa, 15km from Florianopolis centre) always has activity, so I am not afraid of living by myself for the first time in my life! I think I was sold on the flight of a solitary hawk low over the water and through the trees of Lagoas shore. On Sunday night, there is a party for the locals for which Leticia procures free passes. Luckily the promised rap music is actually hip-hop. I take two when they put the Sunscreen song on the projection screen above the dance floor and watch the rapt faces of the crowd reading the subtitles to the music. Have they really not understood it before? Iīve been wondering for a while now why so many locals are so afraid of going out... Iīm warned that everywhere is dangerous.. but after tuning into the TV the other night, I may understand why. A confrontational spokesman presents a show called Your Home where he shows footage of your state, including street names, then cuts to a gangsters house where the camera crew is assaulted, then to a police raid and haul, complete with 'Nightmare on Elm Street' music during his elocution. As per horror movies, people just like to be scared! In Brasil, image is everything. The more I learn about this fixation, the less I like. I begin to understand the influence of media here, maybe one day I will connect this with the influence of media on culture in Australia. The government is the place to work! Money one way or the other and lenient hours. I go looking for new shoelaces for my trusty Slatter boots and canīt find any replacements... I think about it until I realise that it is probable that all shoes fall apart before the laces need replacing!! Wednesday night comes and I wax domesticated in my new place, cooking an omelette and Merles Impossible Pie for dinner for 1 - cooking takes so long and is difficult to justify in the face of the cheap restaurants, but I still like cooking from time to time. I also rig up a makeshift door bell from my cutlery over the balcony, but the sound it makes is remarkably like the wind in the rigging of the yachts moored below.. |
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19th August
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Tuesday I check into my appartment, meet up with an ozzie Daniel from the Youth Hostel in the street of Lagoa, so we go for a juice at the juice bar and meet some locals who invite us to a party that night - wow. The host has painted his house, including a mural of a tube wave on the wall. A couple of excellent musician mates play guitars for dancers and Daniel and I struggle through the language barrier. He tests out the couch at my place and we both awake with little motivation to foray into the overcast day. I make it into the centre to meet Ricardo, a salesman who accosted me at the information desk on my first day in the bus terminal, to talk about appartments, rental cars and anything else that I could possibly imagine needing.. its tough to make a buck here! English teachers earn $450 a month working 6 hour days, 5 1/2 days a week!
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