Mirantao

Sue´s messge from our trip into rural brazil:
Horseriding was a gas. I somehow got the biggest but laziest horse, so practically needed a crane to get on it. Rode cowboy style, which is basically bobbing in the saddle unlike the posh rise and fall of English riding, so I hung on for dear life and redeemed myself somehow.

Fireworks in the village herald the start of the weekend, which basically means heavy drinking and lots of domestics, like a cowboy town.

I don´t speak Portuguese, so get by with a mixture of English, French and handsignals, which means that often food is served which isn´t remotely what i expected, a sort of magical mystery menu. I think stray dogs have sussed we are English as they hang around outside. Wildlife is as exotic as ever, and an amazing cactus that only blooms at night for the night insects. It is hot and rainy with electric storms and I am very pink.

Family all good, if a bit batty. Roman rides horses as if he´s been doing it all his life, is very much part of the village bar/party scene, hurtling around on motorbikes on treacherous unmade mountain tracks.
Brasil has adopted `no smoking´, sort of keeping up with Europe. Nobody takes any notice so all the no smoking signs have an ashtray underneath, which is nice.

Watched Liverpool v Arsenal in the middle of the rainforest during a massive downpour, which was somewhat bizarre. I have a feeling that surrealism is going to be a big feature of this trip. HAPPY CHRISTMAS!