Waiting for wind

It´s been a while since my last entry, but surprisingly not a great deal has happened out here since. I worked my way up the coast from Rio to Salvador which was clearly in a carnival hangover as very little was happening in that town, other than the usual harrassment from the locals. Could not stand still there without someone coming up and asking for something or trying to sell you something. Was twice mistaken as an American and proceeded to get a drunken, spit infested lecture about foreign policy,how America has managed to piss Brazil off I´ll never understand. Moved further up the coast and found again more sleepy little towns, which for the people who I have met travelling so far seems to be fantastic, they seem content sitting on who could not have looked more Arian, has was called Christoph and could well have been a bond villan the way he talked, and when he mentioned about taking guns with him for protection on the best kitesurfing beaches that happened to find themselves in bad areas I became truely suspicious. So after a few days of drinking the southern Atlantic I became a kitesurfer which was really cool, definately helped that the water was as warm as in a bath and so inviting in 35 degree weather, definately beats the sub-zero North Sea thats for sure.

Surfing or at least attempting to on Ilha Grande

After all the curfuffel I headed up to another little village for a rest, hard work all this travelling lark. This one´s name was Jericacoacoa but being that Brazilian Portugese is one of the non-sensical languages of the world I was constantly being corrected on my pronounciation so ended up just calling it jerrikaka or Jerry which went down well with the locals. It was a really cool place, only 4 sandy streets wedged between a beautiful beach and a huge dune where we sandboarded, it is truely like sandpaper when you fall. To get there I had to take a troop carrier type vehicle as the place is only accessible by 4x4s. We arrived in the dead of night and it kind of felt like some sort of covert mission being run through swamps and across the beach under the cover of darkness, kind of like the army I´m guessing except without the danger and mass murder vibe. This place was good but it was rainy season which apparently meant something in that part of the country.

Rainy Season

After a quick nap there, I headed back to Rio and striaght to an island in the south called Ilha Grande, which was amazing if not a little touristy, always a bad sign when theres more english speaking people on the island than locals. Its basically a tropical island covered in rainforest, so explored there a little, going to the 3rd most beautiful beach in the world, although I couldnt see it, the scummy beaches of whitley bay in Newcastle take some beating.

Cumbuco

This is one of the best hostels, club in the basement like ye olde times, and yes the horse was riden

After all that I arrived back here in Rio, where I left you with my last message. Just seems I cant stay away from the place. Had a really strange yet familiar feeling coming back to the place, like returning home or something. Not sure if thats a sign to buy my own coconut stand and settle down here with my own shack or just because its such a beautiful city and one of the few places so far on my trip that always has something exciting happening. Think if I were to come here again it would be for the build up to Carnival and not the winding down.

Can't beat a bit of Rio

Was thinking as the emails from the Mongol Rally came in, how we spent 4 weeks out there and had so many amazing stories to tell and how I´ve spent the same amount of time out here and not nearly as much has happened. Still surfing and sleeping on a tropical beach in Brazil sure beats doing nothing at home.

Oh and we were right in that the rally is the trump card when talking to other travellers, doesnt really matter how long they stayed in Asia most are impressed by it, and it certainly entertains the masses.