Watercolors Of Brazil X

I opened the window hoping for some sunshine. Alas, it was still chucking it down.
"Never mind"; I thought to myself..."I'm still going to the beach. I came here for a tropical holiday and damn me if I'm gonna be stopped by insignificant events such as this torrential downpour."
By the time I was beach ready (sun protection, Havaianas, bikini, sunglasses and other beach paraphernalia), the rain stopped and the sun decided to come out after all.

I decided to take the local bus to the Trindade beach which was a few km away from the one I was staying on. The German joined in.
The bus turned out to be a rollercoaster ride from hell. The driver clearly thought he was on par or possibly above Ayrton Senna, the legendary racing car driver. He was accelerating and overtaking every which way and all of that whilst on the curvaceous, steep, narrow country roads.
The German turned pale.
There was nothing to it, but distract her: "Say, would you call this a jungle?", I asked a stupid question pointing my arms in the general direction of the jungle stretching everywhere around us.
 She looked momentarily confused before answering: "Most definitely."
"I bet it's full of monkeys, anacondas, jaguars and tiny teeny frogs.", I continued.
The German started looking even more pale, but luckily we have reached our stop and tumbled out onto the pristine, picture perfect beach...all white sand and blue ocean.
"This is heaven"; I thought.

We spent a whole day there and headed back to our beach at dinnertime.
The bus back was more crowded than I thought humanly possible. People were sitting on driver's dashboard, exits, stairs and every single inch of space was filled with heaving throng of people.
"They clearly haven't heard of any health and safety rules. This whole line would get shut down immediately in England."
With that thought I squeezed in the tiny bit of space still left on the dashboard and hoped for the best.

I wore:
Bikini: Vix (similar )
Shorts: FCUK (similar )
Sunglasses: Whistles (similar )
Headband: Accessorize (similar )

Watercolors Of Brazil VIII

The coach to Paraty was ready to leave.
"Any minute now, I'll be on my way to a sunny, beachy paradise."; I thought to myself.
But no.
I continued sitting in my seat for another half an hour thinking there's no reason for panic. After all, this is Brazil. They do things in their own time and never mind the timetable.
In the next few minutes, however,  everyone got ordered off the coach.
"Off, off!!"; yelled the officials.
I knew then that maybe I should panic after all.

Everyone got off the coach mumbling and grumbling.
In the general chaos I spotted a blonde head of hair. She also spotted me.
"Do you speak ze English?"; she asked. She was German.
"Yes, bruv.", I answered nonchalantly.
"Do you know what's going on?", she continued.
"No, but I will find out."
I scanned for the nearest official and strode over determinedly.
"What's going on?"
"The battery of the coach is not working. We're waiting for a different coach.", the official said.
"And how long is that gonna take?"
"Only God knows", she shrugged.
Frankly, the most baffling thing to me was that the coach had a battery.
It was also clear that this was going to be a long wait. I better make friends with the German.

 In the next 5 hours, the German and I visited all the shops inside the coach terminal multiple times, ate several ice creams and quite a few sandwiches and told each other our respective life stories.
Finally it was time to board again.
"In you go, in you go!!", yelled the officials.
"But wait...this is the same coach.", I looked at the official quizzically.
"Yes, yes!!!", she tried to wave me off.
"What happened to the new coach?"
"It's not coming."
"So do you have the new battery for this coach?"
"No, we tried to fix the old battery."
"So, you fixed it?"
"Sort of. Good luck. Hahahahaha If you make it. Hahahahahaha"
And with that the official saw us off.
The German had a look of sheer panic on her face: "What does she mean if we make it? This would NEVER happen in Germany. "
I wanted to tell her that this would never happen in the UK either, but then I though better of it and shut my gob.

As soon as we boarded the coach the second time, the sky opened and torrential, tropical rain rushed out of the clouds.
I got comfortable in my seat and readied myself for a good snooze session.
The Brazilian men behind me had other ideas, however and started chattering to one another at extremely high volume and at the speed of Duracell bunnies.
"This can't be f***ing happening!!! I can kiss my sleep goodbye.", I thought. "Still, I can look at the scenery if nothing else."
We were driving through lush rainforest and sleepy villages. All the while the rain was relentless.

Suddenly, the coach came to a halt.
"The BATTERY!!!", I jumped up in my seat thinking the haphazardly fixed battery finally gave way.
Alas, we were stuck in the traffic jam. IN THE JUNGLE!!!!
"Is this even a thing? A jungle traffic jam? I've truly seen it all now.", I resigned myself to the fact that I will get to Paraty around midnight the way things were going.
If I get there at all, that is.

 Eventually, running about 7 hours behind schedule, we made it to Paraty.
It was raining so hard that it looked like entire town was doing an ice bucket challenge. Streets were rivers and taxis were nowhere to be seen.
The German muttered to herself yet again that this would never happen in Germany.
Eventually, a taxi arrived.
"I will take the German to her hotel, but I won't take you!", the taxi driver pointed in my direction.
"What? Why?". Perhaps he didn't like the look of me? Or maybe I stunk?
"Your hotel is just 5 minutes walk away."
"But it's chucking it down. And I have luggage.", I motioned towards my already soaked bag.
"NO!"
"I'll pay you double!"
"NO!"
"Don't you want my money???", I was desperate.
"NO!"
And with that, he took the German and speeded away.
"Fuck! What now?", there was no way I could have walked as the rain was the worst I have ever seen in my existence. Plus, there were no streets, just rivers.
"Perhaps a boat will come along.", I tried to comfort myself.
It was dark, it was late and I was sitting in a small Brazilian town's bus station waiting for some sort of rescue while the rain of Biblical proportion was hammering everything in its way.

After about half an hour, another taxi came.
"Senhor, senhor!!!! Please! I know my hotel is just around the corner, but please take me. I'll pay triple!!!!", I started waving frantically.
"Triple??? But it's just around the corner.", he looked at me incredulously.
"Just take the money and drive!"
I pushed some crumpled up notes towards him, opened the door and, before he could protest, sat in his taxi and refused to budge.
It worked.
Shortly afterwards, I was standing at the door of my hotel...

I wore:
Bikini: Vix (top)

Watercolors Of Brazil V

The day begun extremely well...I woke up and saw some miniature monkeys playing in the trees outside my window.

"Oooooooohhhhh....monkeys, monkeys......OH MY GOD...there be mini monkeys in them trees there!!!"

"There are NO monkeys in the city, woman!"; The Husband rolled his eyes.

"Babe, I'm telling you...there are monkeys there."

I swiftly grabbed some bananas and hurried downstairs.

"Monkey, monkey!!! Come here. I got some bananas for you!!! Come!"; I called.

Surprisingly, 3 mini monkeys casually came over and started eating banana out of my hand. I was overwhelmed. I wanted to put them in my pocket and run. They would be my babies and I would be their human mom.

The idyllic scene was interrupted by a passer-by: "Do you have monkeys in Spain?"; he asked in all seriousness.

"Spain??? I'm from England, bruv. We have monkeys in a zoo."

"Not on the street?"; he continued.

"NO."

"What about birds?"

"Well, we have birds. But not colourful ones. Just...y'know...pigeons...also known as flying rats."

"Oh."; he said, undoubtedly feeling sorry for the lack of colourful fauna in England, and continued on his merry way.

I then stopped in a neighbourhood cafe.

For a coffee, obvz.

"Would you like some "Crazy Nigga" cake to go with your coffee?"; asked the lady.

I nearly spluttered my coffee all over the coffee shop: "I'm sorry...you wh...you what??? What cake???"

"Crazy Nigga cake!! Freshly made today!"; she was offering me what looked like a chocolate cake covered in chocolate sprinkles, adding helpfully: "It's a traditional Brazilian cake."

"And it's called Crazy Nigga?"; I was incredulous.

"Yes."; she said beaming from ear to ear: "It's delicious!"

"Ummmm....I'll have a slice. Thank you."

Political correctness clearly hasn't made it to Brazil. The cake, indeed, was delicious, but they really should rethink the name.

Straight after my daily coffee and cake fix, I turned to my husband and announced with a serious face: "I need feathers and fruit in my hair."

"You what?????"

"Feathers and fruit!"; I said matter of factly.

"What's wrong with you woman? I'm pretty sure you didn't exhibit any signs of madness when I maried you."

"Well, it's carnival tomorrow, remember? We bought tickets.  And even though I won't be parading around naked covered in strategically placed glitter, I figure I could at least have some feathers and fruit on my head. Also....ummmm...I found this cool shop on internet that sells stuff like that."

"You can pluck the chicken and glue some fruits from supermarket. It'll be the same."; he laughed.

I rolled my eyes and put my foot down: "No!!! I need these accessories. I came ALL THIS WAY and now you want me to be FEATHERLESS for carnival!!!! It's unheard of!!! You're mentally torturing me."

He gave in.

I walked in a small atelier selling wacky headgear and started perusing. 

Straight after me, a breathless Brazilian girl run in shouting: "Have you got anything Carmen Mirandaaaa?????"

She plonked a big plastic fruit basket on her head and admired herself in the mirror.

Not to be outglittered and outfruited by Brazilians, I reached for the nearest plastic, glittery fruit headpiece too.

"Are you taking the piss???"; proclaimed The Husband.

"Erm..."; I dropped the fruit basket and picked up a rose crown a la Frida Kahlo.

"It's still too much. Where on earth are you gonna wear this once the Carnival is over, eh??"; he said.

"Erm...Mexican themed parties...?"; I answered.

"Oh yeah. Because London is full of those, right?"

I bought the crown anyway.

Now if anyone knows any Mexican parties coming up in London, holla!

I wore:

Blouse: Zara (similar here )

Rose crown: Can Can Acessorios

Shorts: French Connection (similar here )

Shoes: Whistles (similar here )

Bracelet: Ottoman Hands (similar here )

Linking up with: Travel Tuesday

Trend Spin, Brilliant Blog Posts & Throwback Thursday 

Watercolors Of Brazil IV

"Let's go to Santos!"; suggested The Husband.

"What do they have there?". I was eyeing him up suspiciously. 

"They have Santos football club and Pele museum"; he beamed.

"Erm...how about NO." I wasn't having any of it.

"They also have the beach." He clearly saved his winning card for last.

I perked up: "Beach? Let's go. When are we leaving? I can pack in half an hour flat!!!"

 We arrived to Santos. The city was charming, but the sea was a murky grey colour and fringed with even greyer sand.

"Bleedin Nora, man!!! This is not a beach. It's dirtier than Blackpool beach after 200 hen and stag parties stampede through it." To say I was disappointed was an understatement.

"Erm...they also have a coffee exchange museum and an antique tram that takes you through the city." The Husband was quickly doing some damage limitations.

It worked.

I sampled the coffee (and cake...you always have to have a cake) at the city's coffee exchange and took a delighful little tram ride. We also visited Botanical gardens, saw some massive guinea pigs and spied a few interesting birds.

All that sightseeing made us ravenous so we opted for a pizza.

Brazilians love to big up their pizza saying it's best in the world so naturally I had to sample these delights.

That's not to say I  wasn't sceptical. Everyone knows that the best pizza  comes from Italy. End of. Amen.

I was right. The pizza that arrived was swimming in oil and imitation cheese.

"Good Lord, no! I can't be eating this abomination. I think it's time to get out of here."

With that we made a swift exit from town, just stopping to fill the car with gas.

This being Brazil, of course, you do not leave your car to do anything yourself, oh no.

One of many gas attendants will do everything for you. We were the only car in the gas station and there were about 20 attendants.

I compared that with England where the norm is one...possibly two workers per petrol station.

I could only conclude that Brazil is clearly a country where they love to keep people in employment. Even if those people have fuck all to do. 

I wore:

Sunglasses: Whistles (similar here )

Top: Zara (similar here )

Shorts: French Connection (similar here )

Hat: Accessorize (similar here )

Sandals: Birkenstock (here )

Rings: Dogeared; Kris Nations (similar here )

Bracelets: from Israel; Ottoman Hands (similar here )

Linking up with: Style Sessions , Monday Mingle , Let It Shine  & Visible Monday

Watercolors Of Brazil II

While The Husband was going about his business, I decided to explore Sao Paulo neighbourhood we were staying at. That pretty much meant shops, restaurants and...nail salons. There were so many nail and beauty salons my only conclusion was that beauty in general and nails in particular are BIG business in Brazil. 

"Nails!!! R$20!!!", screamed posters in the windows.

I did a quick currency conversion in my head: "Blimey! That's only about £5. I think I'll do my nails every day!"

I entered the salon:"Ya, I'd like to do my nails, please."

"Of course. Pick a colour."; said the nail lady.

I picked the brightest, brashest, neon-est (yes, I know that's not a word....) colour I could find.

"This!! And could I please pay before you paint?"

"Of course"; she said and then proceeded to paint before taking payment anyway. Oh well, perhaps it was lost in translation.

"Do you want a cappuccino?", asked the nail lady.

"Yes!"; I was excited...I'll get nails AND a cappuccino for a fiver.

She brought what I can only describe as a SHOT of cappuccino. No Starbucks like massive cups here, oh no. This was the smallest cappuccino ever. With ton of sugar already added, of course (Brazilians like their coffee sweet and their sweets and cakes even sweeter). 

I downed it in one and looked at my hands. The whole process of prepping and painting the nails was completely different than in England. 

"Perhaps it's some kind of weird Brazilian nail art."; I thought to myself.

The end result was the same, however, and I left salon happy.

Feeling encouraged and emboldened by my very very bright nails I decided I should get some shoes to match too.

I spied a perfect pair in a nearby shop: "Do you have these in my size?"

"No....but we have size smaller!!", the sales boy beamed happily.

"Mmmmkaaayyy...I think I'm good, thanks. No need to bring size smaller."; Brazilian logic baffled me.

Eventually I settled on another pair, paid and went to grab the shopping bag with my new purchase from the counter.

The sales boy looked at me completely horrified: "No, Madame, no!!! I will WALK you to the door with your shopping. Let me....". With that he whipped the shopping bag out of my hands and making polite small talk walked me 3 metres to the shop front door where he ceremoniously handed me back my shopping.

Next stop bikini shop...

I perused rails upon rails of brightly coloured, small bikinis.

"Hmmmm....these are clearly for size 0 girls."; I thought.

"Erm...excuse me...do you have this in...you know...my size...erm...for....erm...big boobage area?"; I held up a tiny, but very pretty bikini followed by a forlorn look down at my rather larger tittage to illustrate the point to the shop girl. Clearly, finding a bikini in Brazil is going to be a challenge.

Shop girl took one look at me and then said loudly and PROUDLY:" Yes, we have XL!!!"

Ground swallow me now. Am I really a size XL in Brazil???

She then took out a garment that clearly did say XL on it, but it would still struggle to cover even just your nipples. I looked at it horrified.

"No. Just no. I'm from England, bruv. We like our bikinis with a touch more coverage. Back AND front!!!"

With that I exited the shop and headed straight to the nearest patisserie. I might not have tits and ass  for a Brazilian bikini, but I will always have a space in my belly for more cake. :D

I wore: 

Top: Jaeger (similar here on sale )

Denim shorts: French Connection (similar here )

Espadrilles: Soludos (here )

Sunglasses: Whistles (similar here )

Bracelet: bought in Israel

Rings: Dogeared, Kris Nations (similar here and here )

Linking up with Throwback Thursday

Watercolors Of Brazil I

"I need to go to Sao Paulo.",  announced The Husband.

"Awesome. I'm coming with.", I counter-announced.

The day of departure arrived. One hour before I was due to leave my house for the airport I still didn't begin to pack my suitcase.

"Can you please at least attempt to pack? We will miss the flight. What's wrong with you?", asked The Husband.

"I don't know where to start. It's overwhelming."

The Husband rolled his eyes and told me in no uncertain terms that he's going to Brazil with or without me.

"Fine! I'll pack.", I said and placed the first pair of shoes into a massive suitcase.

Naturally, when we finally rocked up to the airport, our check in was closed.

The Husband was looking  at me murderously. Me? I was just grateful that he didn't have any weaponry on him in that particular moment. 

"What do you mean...the check in is closed?",  I asked the airport worker.

"It's closed. You're late."

"BY ONE MINUTE!!!!" 

"TRAFFIC!!! Traffic was really bad.", I begun to lie.

"OK. But you better run!!!", the airport worker bestowed his mercy upon us.

"We also reserved the seats..." I begun, but he stopped me in my tracks..."We gave your seats away. COS YOU WERE LATE!"

 We were stuck with dreaded middle seats.  On a 12 hour flight. 

"Ya, excuse me....I would like to BUY an extra legroom seat.", I asked an air hostess.

"Nah. No can do. You need to do that at the check in or online.", said the air hostess.

"But the check in was closed!!! And the extra legroom seats are empty. Please!", I was desperate.

"NO!"

I wanted to simultaneously scream and punch the air hostess in the face, but I was worried that I would be escorted off the plane and consequently appear in Daily Mail under headline of  "Neurotic bitch from hell air rage passenger punches air hostess!" so I admitted defeat and shuffled back to my seat.

After the jolly 12 hours of me trying to contort my 5'8'' large frame in a variety of awkward positions into a seat meant for midgets we finally arrived to Sao Paulo.

"Yes! We're here! Let's go!! Brazil....lalalalalalalala...lalalalalalalala...Brazil....Brazil...Braziiiiiiil"...I sung. 

Husband just rolled his eyes and started walking ahead so no one can associate him with the crazy lady...aka me.

As I stepped off the plane looking for a non existing exit sign, I noticed a man pointing towards an exit instead.

"Well, that's one way to create employment" I thought to myself and hurried towards the immigration and customs.

Customs decided to single us out for extra control. Big signs were declaring that no foreign plants are allowed to be brought into Brazil.

As an avid watcher of "Nothing To Declare ", I panicked: "Are muffins plant material????", I asked The Husband.

"Are you mental?" he rolled his eyes.

As it turned out muffins were not a plant material and we were allowed into the country.

Sao Paulo was rainy and grey.

"Great. What's the point of leaving London when the weather is just the same on the other side of the world.", I thought.

Actually, it was perfect day for indoor activities...such as eating...and shopping.

"Let's get some money out.", I said.

Little did I know that I will have a minor nervous breakdown trying to find a cash machine that will deem me worthy enough to take my foreign card and cough up some money.

The 1056th machine I tried seemed to be able to cope with foreign cards.

"Yes!!! Money!!!", I announced.

I then looked left, then right, then left, then right again, then left, then behind....

"What ARE you doing???", asked, by now exasperated, Husband.

"Why, only scanning for potential robbers."

He rolled his eyes and pointed to a heavily armed security guard.

"Oh."

I took the money out.

"Let's hit the shops and restaurants!" 

First things first!

 

I wore:

T-shirt: POP Cph (similar here )

Jeans: Mango (here on sale )

Sandals: Schutz (similar here )

Name necklace: oNecklace 

Linking up with Visible Monday

Statement Coat

Still in coats, but those of a lighter, transitional kinda weather variety. Yes!

I wore:

Coat: Studio 4 (here on sale )

Sweater: ASOS (here on sale )

Jeans: Mango  (here on sale )

Clutch: Accessorize  (similar here )

Shoes: Whistles (similar here )

Bracelet: Gorjana (similar here )

Nails: OPI "Tickle My France-y" (here )

 

Linking up with: Throwback Thursday & What I Wore

Wrapped Up

Looks like London didn't get the memo that the spring begun. 

Still rather cold here.

I wore:

Pashmina: bought in Nepal (similar here )

Coat: Vjera Vilicnik 

Sweater: N.Peal (similar here on sale )

Jeans: Mango (here )

Bag: Rebecca Minkoff (here )

Trainers: Nike Pegasus (here in red, red-orange and dark pink )

Linking up with Visible Monday