Brazilian Rogue Trader Had A Prostitute Posted Up In My Apartment

You know sometimes you get an off feeling about someone and you don’t follow that feeling. You fight against it and convince yourself that everything will be ok. I got a funny feeling about Micheal. I should have never gone ahead with booking an apartment from him. I mean who spells Micheal MICHEAL? That alone seemed dodgy to me right there.

Meeting Skateboard P On New Year’s Day in Porto Da Barra

My friend BG has taken to calling Paulo Skateboard P. I asked him why and he said that it was because when he asked me who famous I liked, I said Pharell (looks and dress style) and since that is Pharell’s nickname and Paulo’s name begin’s with a P and fanices himself as bit of a “hippy” he was the substitute.

Haggling For Artwork In Salvador

I like to haggle, especially in places where that is the norm. On the last day Alex, BG and I went to Pelourinho to find this art I like by Adriano Luiz. I’d seen it in the first couple of days in Pelourinho, and then again on Christmas Day Shay showed us one of the ones she had bought from the batch. So it is Sunday and we are walking around in the morning. Most of the vendors are not even out selling their wares. This doesn’t look good, and this is the last day, so if the guy selling the art isn’t about I don’t get to buy it at all.

Pelourinho and Barra – My Main Stomping Grounds in Salvador Da Bahia

The Pelourinho, the historic square in the heart of the old city of Salvador, is the center of a remarkable renewal of art and culture. Once a place used to auction African captives and punish rebellious slaves, the Pelourinho has become the center of a resurgence of African-Brazilian identity. Declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO, it is now home to groups who reclaim their African heritage through music, dance, drums and art. The streets of Pelourinho vibrate with history, music, art and food—both during the day and at night.

Losing My Luggage at Madrid Airport and Getting It Back Again

Yesterday I burnt my eyes… and my nose, I feel unbelievably sore. This morning I couldn´t even rub cream on my face. It was so sore that I had to blot in on with cotton wool balls. I´ve smeared aloe vera cooling and soothing gel all over my face and body and I´m still hurting bad bad bad on mainly around my eyes and my nose. When I lick my lips it feels like they are about to bust open!

The Agent For The Brazilian Apartment Is An Alcoholic Bisexual Crackhead

Diego, the guy that I met last year who I suspected was on coke or sucking dicks for cash (long trips to the bathroom) is in fact doing both, plus selling the stuff to tourists. HE declares his undying love for me when he is not with his foreign girlfriends or not calling me a crazy, ugly motherfucker. His favourite phrase lately is…

Salvador Da Bahia – The Life and People My 10 Observations

Man Plucked Eyebrows

Women bathing themselves in depilatory cream on the beach and then washing it off in the sea are very normal and not anything to stare at. Although it did take me a minute to adjust to this as I was trying to figure out why these women were putting thick white cream all over their bodies with what looked like a ice lolly stick. When they didn’t rub it in fully I was thinking, “Well it can’t be suncream can it?” But then at the same time I was thinking you wouldn’t be sitting with your mama and dada removing hair from your bikini line would you? Er, well yes you would… In Brazil.

The Slave Quarters

Battered Sofa

In the post “Trip to Mangue Seco” I spoke about how when Neville stayed the night at the apartment, we offered him the upstairs room to sleep in and how when he heard noises in the night that he thought were insects or creatures of some sort, he did a runner.

Mangue Seco – Jandaíra Day Trip

Tieta Do Agreste

I woke up about 5.30 AM and went to go and wake Neville who was meant to be sleeping in the room on the top floor… as I pass through the second floor I see the insect repellent and toilet paper that I gave him lying on a table on the patio on the second floor… this is strange. I venture to the top of the apartment and call out his name. He is nowhere to be seen and the bed does not even look slept in… uh oh… I am envisioning kidnap. I don’t know why. I guess I just have a vivid imagination. I ask Kay if she has seen him. She too last saw him last night and not since… I don’t know what to think, his bag is next to the sofa in the living room which means that he must have intentions of returning. I decide to get ready and just wait to see if he appears by quarter past six.

Searching For Food on Avenida Sete De Setembro

Brazil Prostitute

Last night Neville and I went out to look for somewhere to eat on the main strip of Sete de Setembro. We are strolling down the street. No stress, taking it easy, taking in the sounds, sights and smells of the street. There is Samba blasting from a passing car, little boys juggling sticks in the street, the arcarje women in their frilly white dresses and elegant head wraps, the smell of the sea and burning palm oil and out of nowhere jumps Diego. Of course he had his Ipod in tow, one ear in one ear out and looking somewhat dappa in a bright red and white unbuttoned shirt.