- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 13
- torsdag 10. oktober 2024 22:38
- 🌧 22 °C
- Høyde: 191 m
BrasilFoz do Iguaçu25°32’52” S 54°35’7” W
Day 13 - Onwards, to Foz do Iguazu...

22:00
A long day of travel awaits, and I’m more than a little jaded. I sleep poorly, and feel pretty fuzzy around the edges. Spaced out, a bit woozy etc etc. Waiting in the departure lounge at Maceio Airport, I feel a little queasy as well. Really rather unpleasant. On the flight, the row opposite us is empty, and I relocate, in the hope that the additional space will allow me to sleep for a couple of hours. We’ve a 3 hour hop down to Rio, then a 2 hour puddle jump over to Foz do Iguazu. Happily, I manage about 90 minutes, and wake up feeling much the better for it.
Landing into Rio, there is a heavy, grey carpet of cloud blanketing the city. We’ve been very lucky with the weather so far, but there are promises of storms later in Foz do Iguazu. We were a little worried that our 45 minute transfer in Rio would be a touch tight, but in reality we actually have to spare (i.e. to grab a quick beer). Our second flight is busier, and at this point, it’s time to talk about reclining seats. We’ve taken a few internal flights during our trip - the longest being three hours, and the shortest clocking in at around 50 minutes. Most of our flights are on a low cost carrier called Gol - lots of shared DNA with the likes of Easyjet or Ryanair. We’ve been surprised throughout that the seats on these planes are capable of reclining. LCCs in Europe tend to specify their planes without reclining seats. What’s surprised us even more is the determination of passengers on these short flights to recline their seat to the max. There is very little legroom when the seats are upright. With the seat in front fully reclined, it is beyond cramped. On this second flight today, there is a couple sat in front of me, occupying three seats. They recline the two they’re sitting in (window and aisle), but also recline the middle seat in which neither of them is sitting. What madness is this?
The flight passes quickly enough. I’m watching a very entertaining Netflix show at the moment, about Jeffrey Dahmer - that mass murdering, necrophiliac cannibal. A couple of episodes pass the time satisfactorily. As we start to descend into Foz do Iguazu, we’re in thick, low lying cloud. The cloud barely breaks as we land, and it is raining. Visibility is poor, but we can still see that we’re landing into an airport surrounded on all sides by think jungle.
Our driver for the next few days, Gabriel, meets us, and whisks us to our hotel. Along the 20km drive into town, the roads are lined by large, chain hotels. This is clearly a city built around and for tourism. We’re all hungry, having subsisted on simple airport food all day. We head out in search of sustenance, and land at a very cool looking Italian place. I feel a little under-dressed in my shorts, sleeveless t-shirt and bandana combo. I have a truly outstanding lasagne, featuring a veal ragu, and some very well made fresh pasta. Vicki’s ravioli are even more impressive, featuring black truffle, and a barely cooked egg yolk as the filling. As we eat, we can see into the kitchen, where one of the chefs is preparing fresh pasta. There’s a lot of skill on display. By the time we’ve eaten, it’s past 20:00. We’re conscious we’ve an early-ish start tomorrow, and we’re all pretty tuckered. It’s starting to rain again. Once back at the hotel, the heavens really open. Thick sheets of rain lash down, and the noise is really something. We set an alarm for 07:00, and turn in… =Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 12
- onsdag 9. oktober 2024 22:26
- 🌙 25 °C
- Høyde: 2 m
BrasilFrench's Beach9°46’17” S 35°50’29” W
Day 12 - Quite a lot of not very much...

21:00
Today has consisted of quite a lot of not very much. Some beach, some Caipirinhas, some food, some rest. I’m still getting over the lurgy which Vicki so generously gifted me. It’s turned into a racking chesty cough, which is not the funnest thing ever…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 11
- tirsdag 8. oktober 2024 23:39
- 🌙 25 °C
- Høyde: Sjønivå
BrasilFrench's Beach9°46’18” S 35°50’31” W
Day 11 - That's more like it...

15:30
Unsurprisingly, there have been poor sleeps all round. Vicki was cold and cramped, I was cramped and coughing, and Tam was awoken by a pre-dawn chorus of birdsong. There is an understandable grump amongst Team Fun this morning. We hold a high level strategy meeting over breakfast, and identify our preferred accommodation for the remainder of our time in Praia Do Frances. We reason that it would be a good idea to go and look at the rooms before we move our stuff over there. The new place (translated as Sand Captains, strangely…) is much nearer the beach, which is a bonus. Google Translate is our hero, as we negotiate with the receptionist. She shows us the rooms, and they’re light years ahead of the hovel in which we spent last night, which I have decided to christen Casa Del Ballbags. The new rooms are spacious and clean. They have an actual door for the bathroom. The beds are comfortable. Of such joyous, yet simple things will the next couple of days be made. We agree to move in, and ask what time we can access the rooms. Our new receptionist friends says we can move in straight away. We rejoice.
Back at Casa Del Ballbags, we pack. This takes less than moments, as we’d barely unpacked - in part because there was no storage space, and in part because it felt like our belongings would remain cleaner if they stayed in our luggage. We endure a frustrating 15 minutes in discussion with the receptionist at CDB. He is clearly not empowered to refund us for the 2 nights of accommodation that we will not use. We make the point that the rooms are not fit for purpose, have been advertised as 25m2 each, when they are in fact less than 9m2, and are not safe. He is in WhatsApp contact with his boss, who is refusing a refund, and claiming that this due to booking.com's cancellation policy. I know this to be bullshit, as I’ve had to cancel other accommodation in the past when it’s not been fit for purpose. Hilariously, the receptionist offers to have the rooms cleaned for us, as if this will sway us into staying. We’re not going to wait around ad nauseam berating a guy that clearly isn’t in a position to help us - we’ll have to take it up with booking.com, but at least will be able to do so from comfortable and clean accommodation. If it comes down to it, and we’re not able to secure a refund, it will still feel like money well spent.
Happily settled into our new digs, we spend some time at the beach. Tam is on the busy stretch of the beach, which sits behind a large natural barrier, breaking the fierce waves that are a feature of this stretch of coast. A couple of miles in either direction are some world class surf breaks, and whilst the waves here aren’t that clean, they’re big and powerful either side of the barrier. Vicki and I head to the southern end of the beach, which is beautiful. The fine, white sands stretch on as far as the eye can see. Around a mile further South of us, thick jungle borders the beach. This part of the beach is NOT behind the barrier, and the surf is impressive. There are plenty of kids boogie-boarding, and couple of folks having longboard surf lessons. It’s hot today. HOT. We’re craving shade, and find a funky little surf bar called Nareia. Ice cold beer for Vicki, ultra refreshing Caipi for me. We spent some time chatting in French to a slightly crazy lady. Basically, we’ll talk in any language that’s not Portuguese. My Portuguese vocab is coming along, but I just don’t know enough verbs to manage a conversation. Vicks and I both agree that we could put roots down in Praia do Frances for longer than the couple of days that we’re spending here.
There are beach hawkers everywhere we look, selling hats, paintings, lobsters (seriously), cold drinks. It’s not intrusive though. Our experience of hawkers in the likes of India is much more persistent. Here, a quick shake of the head does the job. We could happily settle in here for the duration, but decide to head for some lunch. We pitch up at the beach front place where we had happy hour cocktails last night. Vicki has a very tasty fillet of hake, and I order a traditional Alagoan fish dish - kinda like a Moqueca, but with some different spices. Very tasty. My shit night’s sleep is catching up with me though. We head back to our room, and I curl up for a much needed and much deserved nap.
22:30
My snooze was long and distinguished - a good couple of hours. Showered and refreshed, we head out to the supermarket for supplies, before aiming for a cool restaurant called the Red Prawn for some dinner. We share some deep fried battered prawns, and some Bacalao fritters. Very tasty - but definitely more than the little appetiser we were intending. When the girls’ salads arrive, there is an audible intake of breath. they are sizeable. Thankfully, my grilled salmon is not a monster size. There’s a calm about the restaurant this evening. When we order things, they turn up. There is little in the way of rank confusion. It’s all so, you know - normal. The sizeable dinner takes us down though. There’s not even a murmur amongst us about heading on somewhere for another drink. Bed beckons. We’re all looking forward to our sleeps…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 10
- mandag 7. oktober 2024 21:53
- 🌙 24 °C
- Høyde: 94 m
BrasilSanta Luzia do Norte Municipality9°38’11” S 35°51’34” W
Day 10 - 100% totes hilarious.

(APOLOGIES IN ADVANCE. WHAT FOLLOWS IS LENGTHY).
21:30
Our day starts well. Vicki and I have both slept more than adequately, and both feel better than yesterday. We take this is a positive portent for the day ahead. We’re up in good time, and packed/ready to go a good 90 minutes before our check out time of 11:00, and spend a chilled hour or so luxuriating in our very sizeable, very comfortable room. (I’m going somewhere with this…)
Our cab’s not till 12:00, so the three of us head down to a cool little coffee shop at the top end of Pelourinho. I have an Espresso and a Caipi Limao - both are top notch. We’re back at Pelourinho Boutique in enough time to see our car arrive. It is not big. For airport runs while we’re here, I’ve booked a car class big enough to comfortably seat all of us, and fit our luggage in the boot, and in some cases (including today) paid a premium to do so. It very quickly becomes evident that Breno (for ’tis his name) has a car that is insufficiently large for this. He suggests putting one of our hold bags on the front passenger seat, meaning the three of us have to squeeze into the rear passenger seats. It’s not a comfy journey, but we maintain our good humour throughout.
Arriving at the airport, we join a short queue to drop our bags, having already checked in. The queue moves slowly. I’ve seen glaciers move more quickly. I’ve seen cadavers move more quickly. The check-in staff are perhaps not the most efficient, but they’re also dealing with a family group of perhaps 15-20, a large proportion of whom are young children, and who appear not to have checked in, and not to have selected seats on board, and are now demanding that they all sit together. This one poor schmuck is dealing with this group when we join the queue, and is still dealing with them when we finish dropping our bags 45 minutes later.
The flight to Maceio is barely 50 minutes, and we’re very quickly out of the airport and into our cab to Praia Do Frances. This car is suitably proportioned, and I’m sitting up front next to the driver - who is a little nuts. The closest we have to a lingua franca is our shared scratchy Spanish. He tells us that we are the first gringo tourists to come up this way. We don’t entirely believe him, but it’s clear that this is not a well worn traveller path.
We arrive to our guesthouse in one piece. Vera welcomes us, and we have a brief back and forth to highlight that I/we don’t speak any Portuguese. She continues to speak to us in Portuguese. Quickly. We resort to Google Translate, which helps a little, but she often slips into speaking Portuguese when I’m not holding my phone, so can’t translate what she’s saying. FFS.
Eventually, we complete check-in, and she takes us to our room. It is tiny. I’d find it a squeeze for 1, but for Vicki and I to share, it’s ridiculously small. Thankfully, that means the A/C unit on the wall doesn’t have a ton of volume to cool, so - you know, there’s that. There’s a small double bed, bumped up against the wall, so one of Vicki or I will have to climb over the other if we need to get out during the night. Bizarrely, there’s a pretty sizeable fridge against one wall, which very much takes up the space that would otherwise have allowed for the bed to stand in the middle of the room. 3 nights here is feeling like a long time… We agree to give it till morning, and regroup.
Meanwhile, we’re thirsty, and approaching peckish. We walk down to the beach - around 8 minutes. The sun’s pretty much set, but there’s an ethereal greyish light in the sky over the horizon. Pretty beautiful actually. We stop at a beachfront bar, which has a happy hour. Caipis for the boozers, a virgin Caipi (or something) for the non-boozer. Very cool. We head up the main street in the town, and there are countless restaurants and bars lining the pavement. We stop at one that looks/smells good, have a quick scan of the menu, and agree that we will do well here.
Things start well enough. They bring Vicki a Corona Zero pretty quickly. I order a glass of white wine, and - nothing. Ten minutes pass. I stop another waiter, and ask about this glass of wine. He disappears. There’s a conflab by the wine fridge. Our waiter returns and tells us he can’t do a glass of wine, but can do a bottle. Righto. A quick scan of the wine list, and I order a Chilean Chardonnay. There is a further conflab by the wine fridge. Our waiter returns empty handed. Well - that’s not entirely true. He brings over 4 bottles of wine, none of which are the Chilean Chardonnay we’d ordered. We settle for an Argentinian white, which happily is more than half decent.
We reason that our luck will now turn, and order some food. Tilapia for the girls, and something that I *think* is lamb, but which Google Translate is adamant is called ‘Sheep Blanket’ for me. Our waiter, disappears off, looking pleased with himself. Close to an hour later, tables around us are receiving their food, despite ordering after us. This bodes not well. I ask one of the waiters (using GT, obvs) how long our food will be. He looks askance at me, and my heart sinks a little. He heads off to discuss with the waiter who took our order. We keep a close eye. There’s a moment of realisation on their part, which I wish I’d captured on video. Yeah - the order’s not been placed. We laugh, because you have to, right? Our waiter comes back over, and is apologetic. He promises 5 minutes until the food arrives. That strikes me as a little faster than is ideal, but at this stage - who fucking cares. Moments later, he reappears at our table. There is no sheep blanket. I pick something meaty at random from the menu. I’m close to being past caring.
Finally, FINALLY, our food arrives, and it’s pretty good. Notwithstanding the Fawlty Towers approach to restaurant management and operations, the chef can clearly cook. Happily, there’s a pretty good guitarist / vocalist combo belting out a mixture of Brazilian songs, and English (language) pop covers. I’m rather taken with the guitarist’s work on the cover of Billy Jean…
We stop in at a supermarket on the way back to our cells, and meet Rodrigo, a lovely kid who speaks excellent English. He tells us that he taught himself English watching YouTube clips and Netflix shows. Arriving back at our guesthouse, Vicki and I quickly decide that the move/not move decision is being made, and it’s being made tonight, and it’s gonna be MOVE. The room is just too small for both us to be comfortable. We can’t unpack anything, as there’s no storage provided. The final straw is seeing the shower, which is an electric power shower, and which has a very dodgy looking electrical outlet right above the shower, where - you know, all the water comes out. We enter high level discussions with Tam, who is entirely in agreement. We’ll grab some breakfast tomorrow, then set out to find alternative digs for the following couple of nights. I’ll get into wrangling with the agent we booked with once we’re comfortable…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 9
- søndag 6. oktober 2024 21:19
- ☁️ 25 °C
- Høyde: 72 m
BrasilCatedral Basílica de Salvador12°58’22” S 38°30’38” W
Day 9 - A lurgy shared = a lurgy doubled

19:00
I sleep poorly. Lots of awakeness. I realise around 05:00 that I’m starting to feel feverish. Vicki sleeps on next to me. I wake for the final time around 06:00. Vicki’s up a little before 08:00, we have some breakfast, and consider what to do with our day. We’ve nothing firm planned, so decide to head out to some of the museums that Adriano pointed out to us the other day. There’s one that focuses on the musical history of Bahia that I’d love to visit. We head out. It feels hot. Hotter than the past couple of days. The weather report suggests not though, which means it’s me that’s the variable.
We take the funicular down the hillside into the lower city. It’s pretty much deserted. We walk towards the museum, maybe 10 minutes away. We see a handful of cars, and a few street dwellers, but that’s about it. I remark that it feels a bit like the City of London on a Sunday morning. We reach the first museum. and it’s closed. The security guard says something to me in Portuguese that I do not understand. Oh, except ‘fechado’ which means closed. Hmmm. We wander 100m to the next museum, the one I’ve been keen to visit. Also closed. We look across the road to Mercado Modelo, a commercial centre. Also closed. Google Maps has lied to us.
After a brief conflab, we walk along the harbour towards the marina. It’s hot, and we’re marching in the direct sunlight for about 15 minutes. Neither of us is delighted about this turn of events. We can see signs of shelter down at the waterfront, but not immediately clear how we get there. Google Maps does the decent thing this time, and directs us. We stop at a waterside bar/restaurant called Lafayette. We sink a couple of beers, because if that doesn’t scare away the lurgy, nothing will. Lafayette gradually fills up, and by the time we leave, they’re doing a roaring trade.
We do some investigation, and it transpires that there is voting today in state and municipal elections, and this is likely to be why some places are closed. We’ve got previous with elections interfering with our travel plans - see Goa 2012 for details…
We grab an Uber to head back up to Pelourinho. We’re both getting peckish, and feel like our best chance to find sustenance is close to our guesthouse. We stop in at Cafe Cana, a cute little place we’ve walked past a couple of times. Vicki has a Cachaca-less Caipirinha, called a Meirinha. No? Us neither. It’s very tasty though. My Cachaca laden version really hits the spot though. The food is sensational. We order Arroz de Rabada (rice with oxtail) and Bacalhau Cremoso - a kind of salt cod fish pie with cheese type affair. Very very tasty. The oxtail rice might be the best thing I’ve eaten since we arrived in Brazil.
The food takes us down. We head back to our room, click on the A/C, and contemplate snoozes. Vicki is off almost immediately, and sleeps for a little over 2 hours. I manage an hour of dozy sleep, and wake up feeling rougher than I did before I snoozed. Fucksticks.
Tam’s had a great day over at the Praia Blue beach bar that Vicks and I visited yesterday. Caipis, sunshine, massages and cod fritters.
Vicki and I briefly consider a foray out, but decide that rest and recuperation are what’s needed. Tomorrow is another day…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 8
- lørdag 5. oktober 2024 21:10
- ☁️ 25 °C
- Høyde: 7 m
BrasilPraia do Buracão13°0’52” S 38°28’56” W
Day 8 - Beach, seafood, sundowners...

19:00
We wake to the sound of very little. We’ve both slept deeply and well. Vicki (unsurprisingly) slightly better than I, but we no longer compete. We have another great breakfast, and consider what to do with our day. I’ve intentionally left today and tomorrow fairly footloose and fancy free. I’d no idea whether Salvador was going to be somewhere that demanded to be walked around and seen, or hung out in, or a bit of both. Today is the latter.
Tam heads out in good time to Amaralina beach. Vicki and I have a lazy morning hanging out at the hotel. She’s still not 100%, bless her, and we figure this might be the best way to preserve her energy. We jump in a cab around 12:30, and (via a quick pit-stop to buy her some decongestants at a pharmacy) head for a beach bar called Praia Blue. It’s great. Not really sure how to describe it, except that it reminds me of Ibiza 20 years ago. Lots of laid back, melodic house music, laid back people hanging out and enjoying themselves, and some really quite good seafood. We share a seafood risotto, some cod croquettes, a bag of something that approximates whitebait, and a tuna tartare. Wonderful. I wash mine down with a local white wine which is much more than passable.
It’s very easy to kick back and spend time here. We’d not initially clocked that the music is actually provided by a DJ, as he’s slightly hidden from our view. He’s playing some really cool stuff, which transcends house, Balearic beach music, and yet which has a distinctly South American feel to it. It’s an awesome spot.
Around 16:00, we head down to the Barra lighthouse, a popular hangout for sunset views. There’s a cool little bar to one side of the lighthouse which Vicki and I target. I have a thoroughly decent Caipirinha, and Tamsin joins us, having spent most of the day on the beach. The sunset is very, VERY pretty, and accompanied by a guy playing acoustic guitar. Again, lots of Ibiza vibes. We sit, chat, take photos, chat, order another Caipirinha, chat. A great way to wile away the time. As the light begins to fade, we jump in a cab to head back to the hotel. I’m 50/50 whether I’m putting down roots or heading out for Saturday night adventures. I suspect I’ll take a cue from how Vicki’s feeling…
21:30
Well, we did make it out - but not for long. Vicks and I have a wander around the streets of Pelourinho, but I think largely because it’s early, and Saturday night - and we kinda feel like we should. There is music everywhere, bars spilling out onto the streets. There is a significant volume of beer and caipirinhas being drunk. The town is alive, and energetic. We, however, are not. After 40 minutes of ambling, we admit defeat, and head back to our guesthouse. Vicki is asleep by 21:00, bless her. Hoping a 10 hour sleep marathon will help her over the worst of her lurgy…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 7
- fredag 4. oktober 2024 21:25
- 🌙 25 °C
- Høyde: 61 m
BrasilElevador Lacerda12°58’28” S 38°30’46” W
Day 7 - Candomblé, Capoeira, Caipirinha.

12:00
I treat myself to a Zopiclone overnight. I’ve not slept poorly so far, but can equally feel like I’m a bit frayed around the edges. I was asleep by 22:00 last night, and sleep through till nearly 07:00. Vicki wakes not long after me, and is stuffed full of cold. She’s not feeling too bad, but is pretty bunged up and snuffly. Our breakfast is brought to our room at 08:00, and it’s a smorgasbord. Pastries, cakes, bread rolls, charcuterie and cheese, some muesli and yoghurt, and some of the sweetest little bananas I’ve ever eaten. Delish. Shortly after breakfast, I lay down, and can feel my eyes getting heavy. Vicki also feels like she could do with some more sleep. I shut my eyes, and wake up what feels moments later, but at what is actually 11:00. All in, I’ve had close to 10 hours sleep. Forza Zopiclone!
16:45
We take a hilly walk through Pelourinho to the meeting point for our walking tour. Our guide, Adriano, gives us a great insight to the history and society of one of Brazil’s oldest and most culturally diverse neighbourhoods. Salvador was an economic powerhouse in the 16th and 17th centuries, and the epicentre of Brazil’s slave trade. There are statues and monuments everywhere acknowledging the plight of the slaves, as well as the end of the slave trade in the late 19th century.
We’re introduced to the Candomblé religion, and the Baianas, the colourfully dressed women who are ever present on the Salvador streets. We visit a church, dedicated to St Francis of Assisi, which has THE most ornate and intricate gold work I’ve ever seen. Adriano tells us there’s close to 1 metric ton of gold in the church. We’re all struck by how comfortably these various religions coexist peacefully. There’s even a church where Sundays witness a combined service for Roman Catholics, and followers of Candomblé. Given the headlines we keep seeing about religious war in the Middle East, it’s a stunning reminder that philosophically different religions don’t actually need to harm each other…
Our tour finishes near our hotel, and under a balcony from which Michael Jackson famously sang in the video for ‘They Don’t Care About Us’ back in 1996. It’s been a great couple of hours wandering around with Adriano, and we feel like we know the neighbourhood that is our home for the next few days much better than we did this morning. We’re all ready for some lunch, so head to a pretty little square in front of the San Francisco church. Couple of Caipis for Tamsin and I really hit the spot. The food is very good. A steak for me, a wodge (technical term) of beautifully grilled fish for Vicki, and some prawns for Tam. Lovely stuff. It’s comfortably the priciest meal we’ve had so far, but is smack in the middle of the tourist zone, so it’s hardly surprising. It still feels like it offers good value though.
We’re all ready for a little rest after eating. Vicki and Tam wander back via a Havaianas shop, and I swing by the theatre for a dance recital later, to pick up our tickets. Currently unsure whether snooze or not…
21:00
Not snooze in the end, but had a lovely, relaxing couple of hours chilling back at our room. Vicks is on the border of feeling properly smeggy, but is pushing through brilliantly. The folk dance recital we’re going to starts at 19:00, and we’re out in good time. It’s a short walk down and then up the cobbled streets to the theatre.
The show is awesome. Such incredible energy… It covers a range of styles, but majors on Candomblé and Capoeira, with a bit of Samba thrown in for good measure. I’m not always a fan of percussion driven music, but alongside the dance we’re watching, it fits perfectly. I’m sure there’s an incredible amount of meaning and symbolism to what we’re experiencing that simply passes us by. I’m not sure I’d even describe much of the dancing as artistic - but it’s incredibly powerful, very moving, and leaves an indelible mark. We’re all hugely appreciative of what we’ve just witnessed.
Vicki and I briefly consider a nightcap - it is, after all, past 20:00. It’s Friday night in Pelourinho though, and all the bars we walk past are packed to the rafters. We mosey (it’s our top speed this evening) back to the guesthouse. I very nearly come a serious cropper, when my ankle buckles in a deep hole in the pavement. Thankfully, I brought an ankle brace with me, in case of arthritic pain, so it shouldn’t slow me down *too* much…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 6
- torsdag 3. oktober 2024 22:22
- ⛅ 25 °C
- Høyde: 12 m
BrasilDeputado Luís Eduardo Magalhães International Airport12°54’34” S 38°20’24” W
Day 6 - Vamos para a Bahia!

13:00
We’re sad to say goodbye to Rio, but today’s moving day. We’re checked out of our hotel and into our cab a little ahead of 11:00. The geography of the city makes much more sense to us as we’re leaving, so familiar has it become over the past 4 days. We all agree that we’d happily come back to Rio. Vicki and I are particularly keen to visit for carnival. I’d also thoroughly recommend to fellow travellers. We’ve not felt the presence of street crime, and we find ourselves wondering whether this is localised in certain neighbourhoods, perhaps around Copacabana and Ipanema beaches. Certainly around Lapa and Santa Theresa, we’ve never felt at risk.
At the airport, there’s a minor snafu when the check-in agent tells us that there are no battery powered items of any kind allowed in checked baggage. This cues us into a slightly panicked unpack and repack - me for my toothbrush, Vicki for one of her several fans, Tam for something that I’m failing to remember.
The domestic departures terminal is fairly minimalist in its approach. There’s a small café, a couple of toilets, a few boutiques. Happily, we’ve not ages to wait. I grab a beer and settle in for a read…
17:00
The flight is, um, interesting. We’re on a plane, 80% of whose passengers appear never to have taken a flight before. Either that, or they just give zero fucks. An elderly couple sitting in front of Vicki and me slam their seats back to full recline while people are still boarding. As we start to move down the runway, a dude across the aisle starts a video call. The cabin crew also appear to be in the zero fucks gang, so do nothing about this. Still, it’s a short flight…
We leave gloomy and overcast conditions behind us in Rio, and land in Salvador in warm sunshine. We’re about 1,000 miles closer to the equator here, and the sun feels strong. We meet our cab driver, Yuri, with whom we have an extended and funny conversation via the medium of Google Translate. He gives us some suggestions for places to eat, beaches to visit. Our hotel is in Pelourinho, the historical old town of Salvador. Narrow, cobbled streets, lined with neighbourhood bars, small shops, guesthouses. One such guesthouse is Pelourinho Boutique, our home for the next 4 nights. The reception dude speaks barely a word of English, and we lean heavily on Google Translate to get checked in. Our room’s great. Much brighter and lighter than our digs in Rio. The A/C unit also appears to be one that won’t keep us awake all night, which is nice.
21:30
We head out around 18:00, in urgent need of refreshment. It’s definitely a few degrees cooler here than in Rio, and there’s a lovely breeze coming off the sea. We stop at a very quirky bar called Cafelier. The decor is highly eclectic, and it has a pretty terrace with some amazing views over the ocean towards the sunset. Tamsin and I have our first Salvador Caipis. Vicks has a tasty coffee / frappé / milkshake type contraption.
We look for a dinner option nearby, and opt for Zanzibar, whose menu reflects the communities of African heritage that make up so much of Salvador’s population. Salvador was Brazil’s first capital city, and quickly became the primary entry point for slaves brought over from Africa. There remain countless families living in Salvador with strong family links back to Benin, Nigeria, Angola, Congo, Ethiopia and Senegal. The food at Zanzibar is great. We have some Acaraje - traditional dumplings made from ground cassava, served with a selection of spicy dips and accompaniments. Vicki and Tam share some Prawns PiriPiri - not a close relation of the Portuguese PiriPiri dish. Massive king prawns, served with a slightly spicy rice, that has a distinctive and very pleasant flavour that none of us can quite identify. I have a Moqueca, an ultra traditional fish stew/curry, made this time with prawns. It’s awesome. Fragrant, a little bit of heat, bucket loads of spanking fresh prawns. YUM.
Wandering back to our guesthouse, we pass a series of bars that are busy, and have a bunch of different types of music blaring out. We all loved Rio, but equally all feel like we may be about to have some more stereotypically Brazilian experiences while we’re in Salvador. Bring it on.Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 5
- onsdag 2. oktober 2024 21:43
- ☁️ 23 °C
- Høyde: 165 m
BrasilPico Dois Irmãos22°59’13” S 43°14’45” W
Day 5 - Her name was Lola.

16:00
Wow - what a day! We’re up with the lark. Well, I’m awake at a little after 05:00, and Vicki wakes moments before the 07:00 alarm call. We’re heading out in decent time, as we need to be at the Copacabana Palace Hotel by 09:00 for our favela tour. In the end, this is a breeze, and meet Barbara, who will be our font of knowledge, protector and guide for the next few hours. We jump in a cab to head up to Rocinha (Hor-seen-ya), one of the largest favelas in Rio. It’s a good 20 minutes in the cab, during which Barbara assures us, reassures us, and assures us for a third time that walking around the favela with her is perfectly safe, that we don’t need to worry about our valuables etc etc. More on that later…
There’s an incredibly distinct demarcation between a ‘normal’ neighbourhood, and the beginning of the favela. On one side of the road is a very expensive private school, largely for ex-pat kids. The other side of the road, is the entrance to the favela. It could not be a starker contrast. I’m reminded of my time in Mumbai, where there’s an ultra-luxe hotel on one side of the road, and the entrance to the world’s biggest slum on the other. The favelas/slums in Rio grew up as a result of cheap labour being transported in to help build the city in the late 19th and early 20th century. Workers were offered a small plot of land on which to build a residence. Unsurprisingly, many have now sprouted into multi-storey properties. There are something like 200,000 people living here, in 1km2.
Barbara walks us up a STEEP hill, followed by some STEEP stairs. She promises us the effort is worth it. We suddenly emerge onto the rooftop terrace of a local restaurant, and the entire favela is laid out beneath us. Genuinely jaw dropping. We sit for a while, as Barbara tells us more about the social and legal status of the community. There’s very little crime in Rocinha, but only because the drug dealers won’t allow it. Any crime will attract the interest of the state police. If there’s no crime, the state police have no cause to enter the favela. There’s almost a tolerance of the drug business, as long as it’s contained to Rocinha. This isn’t true of all the favelas in Rio. Further to the North is Cidade de Deus, the inspiration for City of God (if you haven’t seen it, track down a copy) where murder is a daily occurrence, and we would likely be robbed and/or shot on sight.
Barbara goes on to tell us about Johnny Bravo, the drug kingpin in Rocinha. He’s around 30 years old, and has run the drag cartel since the age of 22. He’s wanted for 6 murders, and countless racketeering charges, but never leaves the favela, so has avoided arrest. What’s fascinating is to see how Barbara, who’s background is as a lawyer, and who lives outside the favela, talks about this career criminal. There’s a reverence, almost an acknowledgement that, whilst not a perfect situation, the permissiveness of the drug trade has an upside, and a positive impact on the social construct across the community.
We climb many stairs, we walk down many others. There’s a ton of great street art, we meet many cats, and see some dogs humping. At a few points, Barbara warns us not to take photos for a couple of minutes, as we’re about to pass a drug business. Fine to walk past, definitely NOT ok to capture images. Further into the favela, there are some young (maybe 20s?) men sitting at a table, upon which their drug wares are laid. I’m not kidding - it’s like a candy shop, each different option labelled. As we walk past, they call out to us to try and entice us to buy. My mind is fairly blown by this.
As we come towards the end of our tour, we’re struck by so much of our experience. I think my single, greatest takeaway will be how happy the favela is. We’re greeted with smiles and waves wherever we go. There’s a positive, buoyant energy everywhere we look. Yes, there’s a dark undercurrent that permits the rest of the community to operate the way it does, but it’s working, really REALLY well.
Barbara leads us onto the Metro to head back towards the city beaches. We choose to get off at the slightly closer Ipanema beach. We find a cool little bar/restaurant, and put roots down. It’s hot today, around 35C, and we’ve been in the sun more than is completely ideal this morning. We also all wore trainers for the walking tour, and are more than ready for flip-flops for the afternoon. I have a local craft IPA, Tamsin has a more than passable Caipi Limao, and Vicki is delighted to find Corona Cero on the menu. Cooled, we turn our minds to food, and order a few bits to pick at. Vicki and I have some lamb croquetas that are brilliant.
We’re only a couple of blocks from Ipanema Beach, so head down to check it out. It is RAMMED. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a beach so packed. Certainly not one that’s so big. It’s also windy. Like, really windy. Tam braves a dip of the toes, and we decide to head on to Copacabana. It’s a little quieter, a little less windy here. We head down onto the beach. Tam and I have been wanting to grab a beach Caipi. There are little stalls up and down the beach, numbered sequentially. To meet your friends, you’d tell them to which drinks shack you’re closest. We swing by #56, and order a couple of Caipi Limaos. By the power of Grayskull, they’re strong. Moments later, a yoof approaches, ostensibly selling some pastry type snack. I decline, but he leans in, and conspiratorially offers me coke or hash. Again, I decline, explaining that I have a guy in the favela that sorts me out. He looks nonplussed at me, and carries on down the beach. It’s pushing 15:00, and we’re all feeling another long day’s walking in the heat. We agree to use the rest of the afternoon for some high-level resting, and reconvene this evening to see what’s what.
21:45
Tam’s decided to have a quiet night in, so Vicki and i head out around 18:00 to what Time Out recently proclaimed as the 8th coolest street in the world. I’m not sure we know what to make of that, or what to expect. We grab a cocktail at Ferro e Farinha, a restaurant specialising in wood fired cooking. The cocktails are excellent. Are they the 8th coolest cocktails in the world? We’re not convinced. Refreshed, we wander down the street in search of food, and cool stuff/people/places. There’s a cool supermarket a hundred metres up the road. Think the Whole Foods chain in the US, and you’re not a million miles away. They charge premium prices for staple products, and stock the somewhat esoteric as well. They have avocados the size of my head. Is it the 8th coolest supermarket in the world? Possibly. I’ve not really used ‘cool’ as a metric for supermarkets before. The street is maybe 400m long. We pass a few bars showing football, a couple of places to eat. We briefly consider grabbing some Peruvian food, but having to translate every single item on the Portuguese only menu is frankly more of a ballache than we're willing to accommodate.
We end up back at Ferro e Farinha, where the food looked amazing. We have two carpaccios - one of beef, served with a Bearnaise mayonnaise and some shaved Parmesan, and one of Octopus with some citrus and herbs. Both are banging. We have a sort of open Calzone with a cheese, tomato and egg yolk centre, served with garlic butter and a salsa verde pesto. Astonishing. Vicki has a ginger and tea cocktail that is both spectacular to look at, and uber-tasty. While we eat, we discuss our views on this - the 8th coolest street in the world. We agree it’s not even our coolest street in Rio de Janeiro. Perhaps Time Out's and our definition of cool differs, but we’d take the noisy street bars and restaurants of Lapa over this any day of the week, and twice on Sundays. Still, food was awesome.
It’s pushing 21:00 by the time we settle the bill. This constitutes a late night for this trip. Back at our hotel, Vicki quickly falls into bed. I give up reading when I realise i can barely focus on the words any more…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 4
- tirsdag 1. oktober 2024 21:46
- 🌙 25 °C
- Høyde: 516 m
BrasilChrist the Redeemer22°57’7” S 43°12’38” W
Day 4 - The temperature's rising...

15:30
The AC unit in our room is noisy, and has two settings - on (COLD) and off (room rapidly warms). It’s too cold and noisy to sleep with it on all night, but too hot not to have it turned on at all. Largely as a result of this, I’ve had a slightly sketchy night’s sleep. It’s fine - I can nap later. Vicki is awake at 07:00, and anyone who knows her will understand how disconcerting this is. We grab an early breakfast, and are out the door not long after 09:00.
The drive up to Christ the Redeemer is slow. We’ve caught the end of what we assume is rush-hour, but honestly - the traffic around Rio is pretty bad whatever time of day it is. Still - our car is cool, and we enjoy adding to our knowledge of the city’s geography along the way.
We take a 20 minute train / funicular to the top of the mountain. At one point we stop for about 5 minutes to allow a descending train to pass us. When the train’s not moving, it’s sweltering. The temp today is due to hit around 35C. Happily, there’s not a ton of heat index to add to that, but it’s still hot by our standards. The views from the top of the mountain are staggering. We have a 360 degree view of Rio, and can appreciate the size and scale of this mega-city that is home to some 13 million people. We can see the Copacabana and Ipanema beaches that we’ll check out tomorrow, the phallic Sugar Loaf mountain, the world famous Maracana stadium… There’s also a statue of Jesus up here, but that’s not really our thing.
What we also see in abundance are people of Instagram, influencers in the wild. The number of people taking posed selfies and pictures is mind-blowing. They’ll spend literal minutes trying to get the right angle, light, pose, facial expression. We definitely do NOT get in their way on purpose.
We head back down the mountain by train, and again get stuck for 5 minutes waiting for a train to pass us. The temperature’s definitely rising, and this afternoon is set to be a melter. We jump in a cab over to Urca, and grab tickets for the Sugar Loaf cable car. There are actually two cable cars - the first to a mid-point on Urca Hill, around 200m up, and another up to the peak of Sugar Loaf, another 200m up. The cable cars were made famous by the fight scene between Bond and Jaws in Moonraker. Again, the views are breathtaking. We’re near the smaller, city-centre airport here, and we see a couple of planes coming in to land which are actually below us. We grab an uber-cold drink or two, and some snacks, and spend a very happy hour people watching. We make a vague plan to head out for dinner in Santa Theresa later, and decide a few hours rest and recuperation is deserved…
22:00
I fall into a deep, dream fuelled sleep. I’m more than a little discombobulated when I wake up, but feel better for a nap. We have a bit of a snafu, when an Uber car arrives, claiming it’s for us, but is the wrong make, model, plate etc etc. We *think* we’ve just been subject to our first attempt to rob us. We cancel the ride, and then the correct car turns up a minute later. Rebooked, we’re on our way quickly enough, and take a fairly short, very uphill, and incredibly pretty drive up the hill to Santa Theresa. It’s a boutique, bouji and Bohemian neighbourhood, on the hill above Lapa. It’s only a mile or thereabouts from our hotel, but most of that is up a vertiginous incline. Quite apart from our policy of making sure we take cabs after dark, I think we’d also have struggled to walk up here in the heat, which is still stifling.
We arrive at Bar Explorer, which is a very cool and pretty little restaurant with a garden of stone and vines, under which we sit. The menu is full of intriguing dishes. We share some Arancini type rice balls, and some deep fried tapioca Dadinhos to start. Vicks and Tam have a banging tilapia dish for their main, and I have a fusion sounding seafood pasta dish. All the food is good - the standouts being the arancini and the tilapia dish. Vicks has a brilliant virgin cocktail, and Tamsin and I add to our repertoire of Caipis. This one is properly sharp, but all the better for it. It’s starting to cool now, which is a blessed relief. It’s more of the same tomorrow - perhaps even hotter, so we’ll be mindful of sunscreen, shade, hats and water requirements. For now, it’s past 20:00, and we’re all flagging. Jet-lag correction is happening, but slowly. We’ve an early start tomorrow for our favela tour, so an early night is a must. At least, that’s the excuse we tell ourselves…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 3
- mandag 30. september 2024 21:29
- 🌙 24 °C
- Høyde: 21 m
BrasilMorro da Saúde22°53’38” S 43°11’16” W
Day 3 - Perfect sleep to activity ratio.

13:00
Much sleeping has been done. Vicki’s activity tracker reckons she’s had around 13 hours, and mine is pushing up towards 10. Tam has also slept very well, and we’re much refreshed for the day. We’ve no fixed plans until a walking tour at 15:00 this afternoon, so agree to grab some breakfast, and then head down towards the harbour area of the city. We’ve been advised to stick to Uber for cabs around town, and so jump in a fairly rickety old car to bump our way downtown. We amble along the dockside, stopping to gaze at a stunning (and huge) mural painted by the famous street artist, Kobra, for the 2016 Rio Olympics. We carry on down to Praca Maua, which is home to the breathtaking architecture of Museu Do Amanha. It’s a Science Museum, but the building which houses it is a gargantuan display of glass and metalwork. Really quite something…
It’s rapidly heating up, and we have to remind ourselves that we’re not far from the equator here, so the sun is properly strong. We seek shelter in a cool little coffee shop. I have an Espresso and a beer, while the ladies settle for coffees. Somewhat recharged and refreshed, we carry on round to Praca XV Novembro, which commemorates the end of the Emperor’s reign in Brazil in 1889, as the result of a military coup. Power to the people.
We jump in an Uber back to our hotel, mindful that we’ve 3 hours of walking this afternoon, and that we might need to save some energy. We stop in at a supermarket across the street from our hotel. There’s a range of Brazilian wines to try. I’ve been advised these are on a spectrum from really quite good, to holy fuck, that’s atrocious. We also grab more water, and some beers for our room. The supermarket feels like a decent microcosm of the Brazil we’ve experienced thus far. Everything’s on a bit of a go-slow, there’s no urgency. That’s fine for us as travellers, but I suspect we’d start to find it a little irksome for everyday life. Still - the Cariocas seem to be accustomed to and ok with it…
20:30
What a day! We head out at 13:30 to grab a quick snack before our walking tour. The first place we stop at doesn’t quite attract us. It looked like a cool place to grab a bite on Google Eats, but as is often the case with the internet, the reality doesn’t quite live up to the promise. We head up the street, and find what looks like quite a cool snack bar. We ask if there’s anything vegetarian for Tamsin. The initial response suggests yes, but this somehow turns into a no. There’s also quite a lot of confusion about how to actually ask for food.
I’m incredibly conscious that I speak no Portuguese, and that English is barely known here. It’s the first time in I can’t remember how long that I’ve struggled to communication with local folks. I’m hyper aware that being an English speaker guarantees me comprehension in a vast array of countries, but this is simply not one of them. I’ve also made the very conscious choice this year NOT to try and learn a little of the local language, as I’m visiting so many countries in a short space of time, and frankly - my addled and ageing brain is not capable of context switching that quickly. I’m regretting it now though. We wander onwards, and find a little café that offers sandwiches and custard tarts. That’ll do.
We’ve still a while to wait until our walking tour, so we amble onwards through the commercial district. We’d really kinda like to find a bar to settle into for an hour, but they seem to be thin on the ground. In this part of Rio, the concept of a ‘bar’ seems to be an alien one. Eventually, we find something that sort of meets the need, though we’re not sure if it’s actually a bar, an antiques store or a library. They do serve ultra-cold beer though, so I dive in.
It’s time for our walking tour, and we meet with the enigmatic Nina in Carioca Square. The following 3 hours are a fascinating insight into the history of Rio, of Brazil, of the Portuguese colonisation of Brazil, and of its ultimate independence in 1898. As stories go, it’s pretty soap operatic.
We’re gradually getting our Rio bearings. We blindly and blithely realise that the building we’re standing in (the 19th century Royal Palace) is on one side of the Praca XV Novembro Square we were on earlier. Ok - so our geography still needs work. We end up at the Selaron stairs, new to some of our group, but well known to us intrepid explorers who have spent all of 36 hours in the city. We (T, V and T) park at a streetside bar and grab drinks, some more drinks, and then some food. The night is starting to darken, and we feel no edge or concern about this. Without wanting to be blasé, we’re beginning to wonder whether the street safety concerns we were told about are more fiction than fact. We won’t be dropping our collective guard, but it feels like we’re all relaxing into the city, in a very good way…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 2
- søndag 29. september 2024 21:03
- 🌙 23 °C
- Høyde: 16 m
BrasilAqueduto da Carioca22°54’48” S 43°10’52” W
Day 2 - Her name is Rio...

08:45
All told, a successful flight/journey. We time our arrival at the departure gate to perfection, and are instantly called to board. We’re on a refitted BA 777. I don’t know who does BA’s interior design, but they should be sacked. They take planes that other airlines can make appear spacious, light and comfortable, and turn them into dark and cramped environments.
We remarked as we were boarding that the amount of cabin baggage brought by some people beggars belief. There are many suitcases that don’t really fit in the overhead lockers. Most have to go in sideways, which is not really in the sprit of the game. The space quickly runs out. There are many people still to board, and they’re dragging large bags behind them. The pace of boarding slows to glacial. Eventually, everyone’s on board, but there remain 10-15 bags that require a home. The cabin crew do their damnedest, but it takes a while. The plane actually starts moving before everyone has taken their seat, which again - is not really the way it’s supposed to be.
It’s a long flight - around 11 hours. We’re fed and watered a couple of hours after take off, and Vicki and I both settle into a deep snooze. I wake up a few times feeling a little queasy, and definitely too warm. I bought myself a new travel pillow for this trip. It’s made of memory foam, which is famously hot. I remove the pillow, and fall back to sleep, waking feeling much better.
I manage about 5 hours, and Vicki nearly 6. Tam’s not one for numbers, but declares she’s well rested. The flight’s been a little turbulent. Nothing too freaky, but we’re all glad when the Captain tells us we’re beginning our descent. We land into Rio about 15 minutes ahead of schedule, which is a cracking result. The same plane is heading on to Buenos Aires after a quick refuelling stop, and as few as half the passengers are disembarking in Brazil. Passport control is completed in a flash, and our bags take next to no time to arrive. We’re packed into our cab only 30 minutes after landing, and at our hotel less than an hour after touching down. That’s some pretty good going.
There’s a minor snafu at the hotel when it transpires that www.booking.com (I always name and shame) have failed to inform the hotel that we’re turning up this early, and have paid to be able to check in on arrival. The folks at the reception desk are very understanding though, and sort us out quickly enough. The hotel’s pretty basic, but clean and comfortable. Breakfast is included, which is a bonus.We grab a coffee and snacks.
05:30 is a weird time to arrive into a new city. We’re in strange hinterland where we’re not quite tired enough to crash, but not quite jaunty enough to go out and explore. It’s also 05:30, so there’s not much currently to go and explore. We’d always planned to have a quiet (ish) day today, to give us some journey recovery time. I’m minded to have a nap…
16:30
Take THAT mofos! I have a delicious and deep two hour sleep. Much needed apparently… We head out around 12:30 for a wander around our local neighbourhood, to grab some food. We pitch up at the brilliantly named Booze Bar. Tamsin and I have our first Caipirinhas of the trip, which are sensational. Real mouth zingers. Vicki has perhaps the most memorable mocktail of her career to date - a bright pink concoction featuring rose water and lemon juice, and named ‘The Barbie.’ Were this not enough, it’s served on a pink neon contraption that just takes our breath away… We settle in for some food. It takes us a fair while to pick our dishes, largely because our Portuguese is simply not up to scratch. Google Translate is a wonderful thing though, so we end up picking moderately wisely. I have a Fejoiada, close as damn it to Brazil’s national dish. The main event is a black bean stew with pieces of fresh and cured pork. Delish.
Sated, we wander up the road towards the famous Escadaria Selarón, a vividly painted staircase in the Lapa neighbourhood. The paintings are beautiful, and there’s a very relaxed feeling in the air - whether that’s because it’s a Sunday, or just that we’re relaxing into the city, I’m not 100% sure. Tam sits for a while to people watch, and Vicki and I continue the climb to the summit. It’s further than we had perhaps intended. About 2/3 of the way up, we pause next to a Caipi stall (for that’s what they’re called), and I have my 3rd Caipirinha of the afternoon. They come in 3 sizes - large, larger and ridiculous. I go for the 500ml, middle ground option. I’m a little stunned when I see about 4 shots of Cachaca being added to it. That’s gonna leave a mark… The cost of this nectar is a little under £1.
Vicki and I complete our ascent, and wobble our way back down the stairs. It’s a somewhat vertiginous experience… We park up next to Tamsin, and join in the people watching event. There are many, many content creators, creating much, much content. We’re particularly bemused by some nuns that look like they come from the Missionaries of Charity, made famous by Mother Theresa. The bemusement is that they appear to be Nuns of Instagram, so vehemently are they posing for pictures. Oh, and there’s a chap in a rugby shirt apparently squeezing spots on his chest. Lovely.
21:00
We’re all a touch jaded. Vicks as she’s just not had much sleep, and Tamsin and I in part, I suspect, due to Caipirinhas. We agree some rest time is a good idea before we head out for some dinner. Vicki is adamant she won't nap, but by 17:30, is changing her mind. I set an alarm for 19:00, and wake up without issue. My beloved is more difficult to rouse. At 19:30, I give up, and ping Tam to let her know we’re on our own this evening. She replies that she’s exhausted and is gonna sleep it out. I pour myself a glass of wine, and settle in to read my book. I suspect I won’t be a million miles behind them…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 1
- lørdag 28. september 2024 22:10
- ☁️ 22 °C
- Høyde: 16 m
BrasilPraça da Cruz Vermelha22°54’43” S 43°11’33” W
Day 1 - I've been here before...

16:30
One of the joys of keeping this journal has been the opportunity to read back over my adventures. On page 1 of this increasingly weighty tome (we’re up to about 400 pages now…) I wrote about the joys of a late flight, having time to relax before heading to the airport, of the joys of the airport having a demonstrably more chilled out atmosphere. Here we are fully 10 months later, and I’m going to repeat myself.
Today’s been a breeze. I was all packed up yesterday (Friday), but Vicki’s got acres of time to get packed before our 17:00 cab to Heathrow T5.
I head to the Signalman for lunch and a pint, and catch up with Romy - landlady extraordinaire. Brighton are playing away at Chelsea today, so the Signalman’s fairly quiet. I park myself in a corner, and spend a little time filling in the few remaining blanks in our plans for the next 3 weeks. Back at the ranch, Vicki is finished packing, and we’re itching to get on our way.
We’re meeting my cousin, Tamsin, at the airport. For those of you that have been keeping up with this year’s travels, she’s the mother of Felix the Giant, who accompanied me through Thailand, Cambodia and Singapore. She’s based up in York, but has stayed overnight with an old friend in Walthamstow. We’ve an 11 hour flight stretching in front of us, an overnight - so hopefully some decent sleeps to be had.
So - Brazil. I’ve got to admit, I’ve a little anxiety about this trip. Brazil has something of a reputation for street crime, particularly in the bigger cities. Chatting with my good friend, Alex, recently, he told me of a friend of his who recently got mugged in downtown Rio, walking home from dinner. There are some clear and obvious guidelines to follow, most of which fall under the ‘don’t be a dick’ rule. No ostentatious jewellery, keep your phone in your pocket as much as possible, generally look as scruffy as possible - that sorta thing. It does sound like walking around any of the cities by night is generally a no-no. Cabs for us then. I guess there’s also a sense of anxiety at the unknown. Even when I’ve visited new countries over the past year - Sri Lanka, Thailand, Cambodia - they’ve been closely aligned with the familiarity of India or Vietnam. This is my South American cherry being popped, and whilst it would be disingenuous to suggest I’ve no idea what to expect, I just don’t think it’s possible to know how you’re gonna feel about a place, until you’re in it.
There’s excitement too, though. The land of Capoeira, churrascarias, Candomblé, the Copacabana, carnival and Caipirinhas. There’s a LOT to which to look forward.
19:26
The journey up to Heathrow was a breeze. Our fave driver, Andy, picked us up in his uber-comfy Range Rover, and we shoot the breeze very happily along the way. Unintentionally, we end up talking about whether Brazil is a risky destination, and I wince slightly.
We’re into the departure lounge in good time, and find Tamsin in the T5 ‘Spoons. Other bars are available, but there’s something about an Airport ‘Spoons that just fits with our travelling style. Make of that what you will. We catch up over a couple of beers, and chat about our upcoming trip. We’re all tremendously excited, and all for slightly different things. Flight looks like it’s on time, so we order another round, and kick back…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 9
- søndag 15. september 2024 12:58
- ☁️ 18 °C
- Høyde: 55 m
EnglandPreston Park50°50’43” N 0°8’35” W
Day 9 - Home. Meh. Reflections...

13:00
We finally got home about 00:30, and were greeted at the front door by our ginger babies. They seemed pretty happy to see us. Vicki’s wiped out, so heads straight to bed. I sit up with the boys for a while, who only seem interested in me if I’m giving them food. By 01:00, I’m fading, and head to bed.
Vicki banks YET another 10 hours of kip. She’s a phenomenon.
A few reflections on Montenegro.
1) Staggeringly beautiful. I’m really not sure I’ve ever seen anywhere more beautiful than Kotor bay. It’s got everything - beautiful water, stunning mountain backdrops, pristine ancient Mediterranean architecture…
2) More expensive than I thought it would be. I’m not sure there are really (m)any bargains to be had in Europe anymore. Restaurant prices in Montenegro were pretty high, particularly for wine. Main courses were typically in the mid 20s. Supermarket prices were pretty steep.
3) Despite the cost, the food was great. Loads of very fresh fish, some really good quality beef, sensational shellfish. I was a little disappointed (again) not to see lamb on menus anywhere, but there were plenty of other options to keep me interested.
4) Montenegro and Montenegrins seem to be on a go-slow (in a good way). The pace of life is incredibly relaxed, and the very vast majority of folks we met were happy, smiling, and laid-back.
5) Climate change is a thing. I think we got pretty unfortunate with the amount and ferocity of rain we experienced, but these extreme weather events are going to be a constant part of our lives going forward…
That’s all for now. Thanks for reading. Join me, oooh - a week on Saturday, for 3 weeks around Brazil.Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 8
- lørdag 14. september 2024 23:58
- ☁️ 17 °C
- Høyde: 6 m
KroatiaUvala Tiha42°34’54” N 18°13’0” E
Day 8 - From there, to here

14:00
The cleaners are arriving at 10:00. We’ve negotiated with Maria that we can hang out in the villa until 12:00, when our cab will arrive to take us back to Croatia, and towards Dubrovnik Airport. We’re up and busy a little after 08:00, and all pretty much packed up by 10:00.
I’m taking most of a bottle of tequila home with us - the one that was gifted to us by the villa owner’s son as an apology for the flooding issues. Now, I don’t do well with tequila. A horrific incident when I was 15 involving a horrendously cheap and nasty white tequila, which means that even the smell of it turns my stomach. Back in 2018, I tested whether this was still the case, while Vicks and I were in Antigua, and discovered that yes - yes, it is very much still the case. This bottle though is an aged Reposado tequila. I tried some a couple of days ago, and - I actually quite like it. It’s smoky, and has spicy notes. I’m still not sure I’d wanna smash down shots of it, but as a sipped drink, it’s closer to a decent whisky than the shitshow of a white tequila that’s haunted me for the past 30 years.
We congregate downstairs at 10:00 to let the cleaners crack on with their work. There’s still a fair amount of booze that we’ve not finished. Some tuck into a glass of rosé, others have a beer. I dive into a spiced rum and OJ, and sit by the pool, contentedly reading my book.
The cab arrives just before 12:00, and is, in fact, a small coach. No bad thing, as we were pretty squashed in during the journey down. It transpires that we’re going to do some kind of a swap at the border. Croatian drivers aren’t allowed to drive into Montenegro to pick up passengers to take them back to Croatia. Quite why the Montenegrin driver can’t take us all the way to Cavtat, I’m not sure. The drive around the bay is spectacular. It’s just such a stunning vista. It’s Saturday, and traffic is quite clunky, particularly through the town of Herceg Novi, near the border. About 20 minutes from the border crossing we used on the way out of Croatia, our driver turns off the main road, and starts heading up the side of a mountain. We all look a little non-plussed. Turns out there are several different border crossings in this part of the world, and he’s brought us to one that he expects to be quieter and quicker. Once we’ve left Montenegro, and are in no-mans land before entering Croatia, and the European Union, we swap vehicles. This all feels quite shady, though it’s anything but. As we approach the Croatian / EU border, our driver explains a little more about this border crossing, and that it’s a hotspot for typically Albanians to smuggle drugs into the EU. It’s quite small, and doesn’t have a sniffer dog team. He goes not to tell us that it’s possible (!) to transport 10 kilos of coke through this border without any issues. Bit worrying that he’s so confident about this. There’s a short queue to cross the border, and the car in front of us has Albanian licence tags. After a fairly lengthy dialogue with the border guard, the car is turned back. Happily, our transit is a more straightforward affair, and we’re quickly on our way to Cavtat…
21:00
Cavtat’s beautiful. A small, harbour town on the coast of the Adriatic. We stop for a well deserved lunch. We decided not to cook anything this morning at the villa, and so there’s some significant hunger amongst our group. I have a spectacular octopus carpaccio, followed by Saltimbocca - a thin veal steak topped with sage and prosciutto. Both are very tasty. Shenda has some of the best calamari I can remember having in a VERY long time…
After lunch, the girls declare shopping, and the gents repair to a nearby bar. The sun is intermittently shining and warm, but is regularly shrouded in cloud, which leaves us feeling a touch chilly. There’s a stiffish breeze as well…
There’s a spectacular looking super yacht in the harbour. c. 50m long, and sleeping 12 in 6 en-suite bedrooms, we briefly consider liberating it for a week’s cruise around the Med. The weekly hire for this vessel transpires to be €290,000, which is just a touch out of our price range.
At 18:00, we jump in our cab to the airport. Dubrovnik Airport is pretty small, and not brilliantly equipped. We’re dejected to find our flight is delayed by around 45 minutes. It’s been a long day already, and we all just want to be at home. Shenda, Simon, Vicki and I put down anchors at a table in a small café in the departure lounge. They serve a decent white wine in a small bottle, several of which I plough through. We’re keeping our eye on the inbound flight. No way are we going through passport control and into the non-Schengen departure lounge until it’s landed…
23:55
We land around 40 minutes late - not the worst outcome… We’re very quickly off the plane, and through passport control. Not a lot of folks in the airport this late in the day. We say goodbye to Rach and Whisk, who have hand luggage and are straight into a cab to take them back to Charlwood. Our bags turn up pretty quickly, and we bid adieu to Si, Shenda, Eddie and Nicci. It’s been a great group to travel with, and I can’t imagine it’ll be that long until we’re planning our next trip together.
It’s pretty bloody fresh outside. I think the temperature’s down at about 10C. As soon as we’re into our cab, Vicki’s out like a light, bless her…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 7
- fredag 13. september 2024 23:08
- ☁️ 14 °C
- Høyde: 10 m
MontenegroRt Raškov Brijeg42°28’4” N 18°45’48” E
Day 7 - A high degree of soggy

18:00
Team Dobrota are a little subdued this morning. Well, 7 of us. Vicki is respondent after ‘yet’ another 10 hours of sleep. The sky is heavy with cloud, but we’re apparently due some sunshine late morning. 7 of us (all but Simon) head out for a walk. The breeze is fairly stiff, but the cloud is starting to clear. We make it most of the way down to Kotor, stopping briefly at Babilon to book a table for dinner tonight, and pitch up at a plush looking beach club called Virtu. Beers/ciders for the majority, with soft drinks for those that are particularly suffering. The sun emerges, and we’re at peace with the world. A small cat appears, who I name ‘Bob.’ Vicks and I head back towards the apartment to grab some lunch, whilst the others carry on into Kotor. After some food and wine, I’m ready for a nap. I reward myself with a super deluxe snooze.
23:45
I’m a little groggy when I wake up, but shake the fuzziness away with a Whiskas strength Negroni. We’ve booked a table at Babilon for 20:00, but are a little concerned that the sky has significantly darkened, so head off a touch early. Happily, Goran has our table ready and waiting. A couple of minutes after 20:00, the floodgates open. The rain is as heavy as Monday, when we were flooded. Our table’s pretty well covered, but there’s still some notable water mist and splashing.
We have a sensational dinner. Vicki has a repeat of her order of Tuesday, and I have a wonderful salmon carpaccio, followed by a Tagliata - thinly sliced pieces of sirloin steak, served over a rocket and Parmesan salad. Delish. The rains continue while we eat. There’s a brief hiatus at 21:30. Vicki seizes this opportunity to head back to the villa. The remainder of us regret not taking our chance, when the rain comes back with a vengeance. Sated, we settle our bill, and head off. Shenda has an umbrella, so is broadly ok. I do not, so am not. It’s about a 10 minute walk back to the villa, and the rains heavy around half of that distance. Suddenly, the rain stops, and we rejoice.
Back at the villa, we’re delighted to find that there’s no flooding. Clearly the gutter jiggery-pokery has done the job. We’ve a small mountain of booze to get through before we leave tomorrow afternoon. I decide wine is my target for the evening, so have the last glass of white, followed by a couple of glasses of red. The rum can wait for the morning…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 6
- torsdag 12. september 2024 23:28
- 🌫 18 °C
- Høyde: 10 m
MontenegroRt Raškov Brijeg42°28’4” N 18°45’47” E
Day 6 - Reset, recharge, rebound

12:00
I’m not sleeping well. No idea why not, but I’m not. I’m averaging maybe 5-6 hours a night, which I once would have thought super-deluxe, but which now is just not quite enough. The team are off to Perast today, but I may stay behind and try and catch up on some sleep. There’s a definitely some weather brewing, but the morning is actually quite bright and sunny. Vicki snoozes till 10:00 - no such sleep challenges for her… I grab some breakfast, before deciding to head back to bed for some snooze, and will see where the day takes me.
17:00
Holy shit - that was some nap. Everyone else heads off in a cab to Perast around 13:00, and I fall asleep moments later. I wake a few times, but essentially sleep for 4 hours. Much needed, much welcomed. I’m pretty groggy when I wake up, but it’s the kind of grog that comes from having had a deeply restful sleep, so I’m ok with it. I find everyone cowering under the covered table near the pool, and quickly deduce that the rains are here. Not wickedly heavy like our Monday experience, but sufficiently weighty to require shelter. Perast sounds/looks lovely from the photos they show me. I may pop up there tomorrow for a look around, if the weather gods play ball. I decide a rum and OJ is in order…
23:45
Around 19:00, the lightning starts to build, mainly over the mountains to the North of us. Given the likelihood of a rainstorm breaking out at any time, we head all of 50m up the road to a small Konoba for a bite to eat. They’re sufficiently worried about the storm that they seat us inside. I have a delicious risotto made with local sausages and some butternut squash. Simon has had an incident. He slipped over on the stairs in the villa, and has cut/badly bruised his left leg. He’s a bit subdued, and doesn’t even finish his red wine. This is unheard of, and we’re all a little worried about him. He heads back to the villa to go to bed, while the remainder head to our local café for a nightcap. Nicci and I complete the full range of local brandies, and we discover something rather lovely called Amaro Montenegro, which confusingly is not from Montenegro, but rather celebrates that marriage of a Montenegrin princess to the future king of Italy. The lightning is still present, and slowly building. As most make their way to bed, I spend 40 minutes on our sun terrace watching the light show in the clouds above me. I’m almost willing the rain and thunder to arrive. The lightning is spectacular, but I’m disappointed that it doesn’t appear to be progressing beyond that, so at 23:30, I call it a night.Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 5
- onsdag 11. september 2024 23:41
- 🌙 17 °C
- Høyde: 5 m
MontenegroŠkurda42°25’33” N 18°46’7” E
Day 5 - Happy Hump Day

15:00
There are several reports of poor sleeping. Rachel’s been up since 4, Nicci feels more than a little jaded, and Eddie’s back is playing up. My own efforts are pretty poor as well - my Garmin watch estimating I’ve had around 5 paltry hours. Vicki, however, banks another 10 hour effort, sleep thief that she is.
The promised sunshine has arrived, and the wind has died almost completely. Those who sunbathe, have little else planned for the day. Vicki and I grab some breakfast, and lounge in the shade by the pool. The villa owner drops us round some wine and some custard cakes as a further apology for the flooding incidents earlier in the week. Not long after midday, I head for a much deserved nap.
23:30
I struggle to wake from my nap. Blearily, I pad downstairs, and decide a quick dip in the pool should help me shake the cobwebs away. Crikey - and then some. The pool is cold. It does the job though. I settle down to read my book with a rum and Coke, and consider that this is a really rather lovely way to pass the time…
There’s a monster cruise ship in the bay today. Checking the cruise ship schedule, this one has over 3,000 passengers, and weights in at 120,000 tons. Today’s schedule has two ships in total, and they’ll have spewed something like 5,000 passengers into Kotor, a small town of maybe 15,000. It’s easy to see why the townsfolk are less than adoring of the cruise ships that so frequently stop by. We’re planning to head into Kotor later for a wander around and some food, but both ships are due to have departed by then.
The afternoon passes in the loveliest of fashions - with very little done, and a truckload of relax. We jump in a cab at 18:30 to head to Kotor. There are no issues with keys today. The cars drop their respective passengers in different parts of town, and we spend a faintly ludicrous 20 minutes trying to locate each other. Kotor Old Town is beautiful - very pretty, narrow cobbled streets, street side cafés abound, a variety of live musicians performing.
We pitch up at a restaurant I’ve found that has great reviews, a little stroll outside of the old city walls, around the harbour. I have a grilled octopus dish that is banging. Perfectly charred, but ultra tender. Vicki’s braised beef dish is a cracker as well. We take a stroll back through the old town to our meeting point for the cab back to the villa, grabbing ice creams along the way. The city is still teeming with activity - bars spilling out onto the streets. We head to our local café by our villa for a nightcap. Nicci and I are making great progress trying the full range of local firewaters. Tonight is a pear brandy, which is probably my favourite of the lot thus far. A day of doing very little has clearly taken its toll though, and we’re all headed to bed by 23:00...Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 4
- tirsdag 10. september 2024 23:46
- ☁️ 17 °C
- Høyde: 10 m
MontenegroRt Raškov Brijeg42°28’4” N 18°45’48” E
Day 4 - Sore heads, and lost keys

13:00
There are some sore heads at Camp Fun today. Eddie describes his condition as ‘grizzly’ and Nicci somewhat regrets the last bit of Slivja Rakija we shared before bedtime. We’re delighted, however, that there appears to have been no significant leaking overnight, despite some pretty heavy rain, and a spectacular thunderstorm around 02:00. For my part, I sleep pretty poorly. Very wakey, and according to my Garmin watch, not much deep sleep at all. I suspect today will be a low powered day.
Vicki is still catching up on sleeps, and banks another 10 hours. She’s a marvel that woman. We have a late breakfast of eggs on toast around 11:00, and I repair to bed with my eyes on a nap.
19:30
My low powered prediction has been proven right. We’ve had occasional rain showers, and played some games in the covered terrace area near the pool. Vicki is victorious in the Shut the Door competition, whilst Shenda and I take the prize for the Who’s In The Bag event. The villa owner and her handyman have been round while I was snoozing, and hopefully dealt with the guttering issues for the next round of heavy rains. The wind is getting up, and we’re a little concerned that there are stills storms brewing.
Eddie and Whiskas have been out on some hired bikes today, with little success. There’s a bike path that leads down to Kotor, but which suddenly disappears as you arrive into town. They use the road, and are admonished by a local traffic cop. Apparently roads are for cars. They can’t use the pavement, as it’s jammed with pedestrians. There appears to be no other option. More than a little non-plussed, they return to the villa.
There are staggering views of the sunset, which lights the sky up in a complex array of colours and textures. It’s jaw-droppingly beautiful.
23:30
It’s still pretty breezy when we head out for dinner. There’s a hiatus in proceedings when we realise we can’t find the door keys. There’s a little alcove by the front door where we’ve been leaving them, and they’re not there. Rach and Whiskas have gone out for a pre-dinner aperitif, but when we check, they’ve not seen them. We search fairly frantically for 15 minutes, but no joy. We suspect that the villa owner or handyman might have wandered off with them. Fortunately, we can lock the front door from the inside, and have a separate set of keys for the backdoor, so can head out leaving the villa in a reasonable state of security. I ping Maria to ask if she can check with the villa owner.
Our destination for dinner is Babilon, a Konoba about ten minutes walk up the coast. About halfway there, Simon admits that he may have had the keys during the afternoon, for what - we’re not really sure. He and Vicki scramble back to the villa, declare success, and I apologise to Maria for unnecessarily disturbing her / accusing the villa owner. She’s very good natured about it. Simon is appropriately sheepish.
Dinner is a triumph. We all agree it’s our favourite place to eat so far. Very friendly folks running it, and great value. The food is very good. The majority opt for steak, and the waiter dude brings out two huge platters with a combination of rib-eye and bone-in sirloin. Vicki, Shenda and I have variations on risotto - black cuttlefish for me, and prawn with Saffron for V+S. Very tasty, well seasoned, clearly using a very good fish stock.
It’s after 22:00 when leave the restaurant, having had a rip-roaring time. The sore heads and jadedness of last night have caught up with most, and early nights are declared. Tomorrow’s due to be a hot and sunny day, and no-one wants to miss any of it…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 3
- mandag 9. september 2024 23:25
- 🌧 19 °C
- Høyde: 10 m
MontenegroRt Raškov Brijeg42°28’4” N 18°45’47” E
Day 3 - Wetter than an otter's pocket

19:00
We’ve been expecting the rains. Waking up on Monday morning, we see grimacing skies, and chop on the water. They’re not here yet, but they’re surely in the post. It’s still warm, but a stiffening breeze promises malevolence.
I’m up by 08:00, but leave Vicki to sleep a while. I briefly look in on her at 09:30, but she declares insufficient, so I leave her for another half hour. We’ve determined that the inclement weather necessitates an excursion, and we’re going to head down to Kotor for a wander around. We book cabs for 11:30, Vicki emerges, and we’re outside the villa by 11:25 waiting for our cabs. I say cabs, but really, it’s the brother of Maria who runs the management company that looks after our villa, and one of his mates. Ivan (brother) turns up on time, but his mate is 25 minutes late. Apparently there’s traffic trouble down in Kotor. It’s a town of perhaps 12,000, so I struggle to understand just how bad the traffic can be.
As we drive down to the town centre, I start to understand. It’s a perfect storm of terrible road planning, insane drivers, and perhaps 3,000 passengers flooding off a couple of cruise ships. We attempt to turn off the main road, but a cruiser is crossing the road, despite the crossing light being red. We nearly run her down.
As we walk into the old city of Kotor, the sky is darkening. We’re all ready for a beer, so head for a lovely little square just inside the city walls. Within moments, the rains commence. Fleeting at first, they build into some of the heaviest rain I can ever remember experiencing. I ping Felix a message to let him know that the rains around Khao Yai might just have been relegated to second place. The noise as the water pounds on the slick, stone paving is immense. The bar we’re in has an awning, but it is woefully inadequate for these conditions. Despite sitting underneath this covering, Vicki has her umbrella up. ‘A’ drink turns into several, as we’re in no rush to head out into the deluge. We decide to grab some food while we’re here. The rain keeps getting heavier, and heavier. I love the rain, but this is just something else.
Finally, FINALLY - after about two hours, it starts to abate. We grab the opportunity to settle up our bill, and make for the nearest supermarket to stock up on some supplies. It’s only a 5 minute walk away, but we’re all beyond soggy by the time we arrive. Because I’m such a goddamn hero, I’ve lent Whiskas my waterproof coat, making do with a small umbrella instead. Honestly, I’m so soaked through before we leave the bar, that a waterproof coat would have done no more than trap the moisture in.
We manage to grab most of what we need at the supermarket, before Ivan and his dad give us a ride back to the villa. Opening the door, it’s quickly evident that all is not well. There are puddles of water all over the floor. We quickly identify the the water is coming from the first floor, and discover water pouring in from the small baloney at the front of the 1st floor living room. It’s properly flooded. A clean up exercise commences, and I get in touch with Maria to request assistance. The next door villa is owned by a guy called Vuco. He’s had some similar issues, and has identified a blocked gutter at the rear of his property as the culprit. This perhaps explains the water in our kitchen, but our problem is definitely due to something at the front of the villa. The villa owner pitches up to help with clean up, and kindly leaves us a bottle of vodka as an apology.
The next heavy shower is only minutes later, and we experience the same flooding. Our diagnostics team has identified a gutter at the front of our vila that isn’t draining properly, and which is creating a waterfall that falls directly onto the balcony. The balcony has a raised lip about 2 inches high, and the water can’t drain away from it. As it fills, the water reaches the level of the door, and the door is not watertight. Knowing how and why we’re being flooded is heartening, but hardly the outcome we’re after. The owner’s son rocks up, and drills some additional holes into the balcony to allow for better drainage. Honestly, I’d probably have started with the gutter which is the genesis of the problem, but what do I know?
Look, the villa managers and owners can’t control the weather, obviously. But this can’t possibly be the first time this has happened. The rain is incredibly heavy, but it’s not some kind of days long, generational storm. We’re still having to deal with ingress of water 4 hours later, and it leaves us feeling more than a little irked. The hole drilling has helped, but when the rain gets really heavy, there’s still some water splashing against the door from the deluge coming down from the gutter, and some of it makes its way into the living room. It’s manageable for tonight, but needs more attention tomorrow.
23:45
Our evening is more stressful than is entirely ideal. Intermittent heavy showers have continued to leave us soggy. I guess we’re kinda inured to it. We’re certainly well versed in wringing out the various towels and rugs that we’re using as flood barriers. We make the best of it. The owner’s son turned up with a bottle of a decent Reposado Tequila for us - again, by way of apology. Honestly though, we’re pretty miffed that we’ve paid a whack of cash for our villa, and it’s flooding like this. We’ll need to get on to the managers tomorrow to try and sort out the guttering, as there’s heavy rain forecast on several of the next few days…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 2
- søndag 8. september 2024 23:55
- ☁️ 21 °C
- Høyde: 8 m
MontenegroRt Raškov Brijeg42°28’5” N 18°45’47” E
Day 2 - All kinds of sunny.

17:50
Waking time for our collective is wildly varied. Eddie and Nicci are up and out for a walk by 07:00, whilst Vicki sleeps till past midday. I would say the average is around 08:00, and most of us are well slept/rested. Despite several attempts, the coffee pod machine is simply not playing ball, so Eddie, Whiskas and I pop to our new favourite local café for a coffee, followed by an improving swim in the bay. The water’s beautiful - cold enough to be refreshing, but warm enough not to warrant tears. The sun rises over the mountain behind the villa, and slowly chases the shade away from our private beach type area by the bay. It’s heating up pretty quickly, but I find a wonderfully shady solace behind the pool, and curl up to read my book for an hour.
Around 11:30, Rachel has the first brilliant idea of the day, and moments later, we’re slipping into the charming depths of a beautifully made Aperol Spritz. It’s a great option with which to open our Sunday account. Bravely, I stick to my promise to check on Vicki at 12:00. She’s just woken up, and decided it’s time for today. She’s clocked in at a little over 12 hours. Very impressive.
We decide some lunch is in order, and head down the road to a little fish restaurant. The wine is much more reasonable than last night, the food simple and good. It’s pushing 14:30, and I can feel a nap on the cards. I head back to the villa with the girls, and hit the hay. It takes me a while to get off to sleep, but am rewarded with fully 90 minutes of doze. Deluxe.
23:45
We congregate on the sun terrace around 18:30, for sundowners. The sun sets lazily across the bay from us, over the mountains in the distance. It’s still hot, but gradually cooling. I learn of an incident involving Simon’s drone while I was sleeping. It’s been on the fritz recently. He’s an electrician by training, and has been working to fix it. An issue with the sensors apparently. His efforts have not been going entirely to plan. On one of his test flights earlier, it took on a mind of its own, gave the tree by the bay a bit of a haircut, and then tried to decapitate Rachel. With the warm glow of hindsight, it all sounds super funny, but I suspect was anything but at the time. There was such alarm and shrieking that our neighbours popped their head around to our pontoon to check everyone was still alive…
For dinner, we walk South along the coast towards Kotor. Dobrota, whilst recognised as a town, is really a stretch of coastline, about 4km long. Forza is perhaps 1km to the South of us, on the waterfront, and attached to a plush looking hotel. They have a wood-fired BBQ on the waterside terrace, and fresh fish on the menu - a winning combo. Six of us have whole seabass, cooked over the fire, and it’s sensational. Cooked to a soft, juicy texture, with crispy skin, and really well seasoned. It turns out we can’t quite manage on two bottles of wine, but do keep ourselves from ordering a fourth. The food is a little more expensive than last night, but our bill feels like much better value. We all agree that we’ve been very well fed.
We head back to our local café for a nightcap. Eddie, Whiskas and I go for a Pelinkovac - a local Amaro style liqueur that’s bitter and smoky. Nicci bravely tries a Zlatna Rakija, which transpires to the apricot variant of homemade firewater. It smells deeply of apricot, but tastes of anything but. It’s marginally nicer than the plum version we tried last night. The hour is advancing, and some of us have had as few as 12 hours sleep. It’s time for bed…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 1
- lørdag 7. september 2024 23:35
- 🌙 20 °C
- Høyde: 9 m
MontenegroRt Raškov Brijeg42°28’4” N 18°45’49” E
Day 1 - I've been here before...

06:44
I am once again, would you believe, in Brewdog at Gatwick North terminal. Comfortably the earliest I’ve had to be here this year. Vicki and I are off to Kotor, in Montenegro, along with 6 of our dearest friends. There’s a small cock-up when the cab doesn’t arrive. Mindful that I’ve been the taxi mistake maker in the past, I check and recheck my confirmation email, before calling the cab company. Nope - it’s their snafu. Somewhere along the way, they’ve got a couple of bookings confused, and they’re expecting to pick us up on Monday, to fly to New York. Really not what you want to hear for a 05:00 cab after a 04:15 alarm… Thankfully, they have a driver on standby, who gets over to us in 10 minutes, and we’re still at Gatwick in decent time.
Vicki, bless her, has had a crazy week at work. Couple of weeks in fact. When I went to bed last night, I had an inkling she might not get finished until v late, and my inkling is confirmed. She’s not managed to get to bed - but is in awesome spirits, ready to go etc etc. She does, however, doze for the entirety of the cab ride to Gatwick. I suspect today will be a day of many en-route naps.
In the check-in area, we rejoice to see a gin still that’s been christened ‘Judith.’ We’re quickly through bag drop and security. In a first of its kind, neither of us is pulled over for additional security checks.
And so it is, that I find myself in the North Terminal Brewdog, for maybe the 6th time this year. They don’t have a loyalty scheme, but if they did…
Our group is arriving in stages, and I suspect we’ll meet at the departure gate. The nucleus of this group is a gang we’ve travelled with a bunch of times before, but not for quite a few years. I think 2015 or 2016 would have been the last time. We exist very easily together, so am expecting a chilled out week of not very much. We’re staying in a waterfront villa on Kotor Bay, in a little village called Dobrota, about 5km North of Kotor Old Town. I’m unsure, at this point, how active we’ll be - there are tons of opportunities for adventuring, but most require car-hire. The weather may well have a role to play in helping us decide. The forecast is, let’s not be coy, shit. Heavy rain, thunderstorms. We’re all hopeful that the storms will be intermittent and fleeting. Fingers crossed, touch wood etc etc.
Last time I flew out of North Terminal was peak, PEAK Summer holiday season. The airport’s a very much more relaxed affair this morning, most schools having already started again for the Winter term. There are a few families getting away, but the vast majority are groups of adults headed off on their travels. There’s a slightly subdued atmosphere.
19:30
The flight is blissfully brief. We’re around an hour late taking off, due to some mist and fog at Gatwick generally slowing everything down, and land into Dubrovnik about 45 minutes behind schedule. Quickly enough, we’re squashed into our 8 seater taxi for the journey South to Dobrota. There’s an airport at Tivat, about 45 minutes away from our villa, but flights there were much more limited, and far more expensive, so we’ve flown into Croatia, and will drive down into Montenegro. It’s around 90 minutes to drive, but the variable is how long the border crossing will take. Whilst Montenegro uses the Euro for its currency, it’s not (yet) part of the European Union, so there’s a hard border between the two. I suspect leaving the EU to get into Montenegro is going to be a lot quicker/easier than getting back into the EU when we head home.
The drive down is really something. The surrounding scenery is just beautiful. We’re surrounded by mountains, and spend most of the journey hugging the shores of lakes and fjords. I wasn’t prepared for how close the mountains are to where we’re staying. We spend the last 50 minutes driving round the coastline of the Bay of Kotor, which looks like a lake, but is actually an inland bay, joined to the sea about 15km to the North West of us. We’re reminded of the Italian lakes, except prettier, more rustic.
There’s some small confusion as we try to figure out which villa is actually ours, but ultimately manage to locate the right property. It’s a beautiful building. A maze of staircases, rooms, and terraces. It’s bewitchingly charming. The views across the bay are simply staggering. We’re all a bit warm and peckish, so head out to a local restaurant for refreshment. The local beer is Niksicko, and is a pleasant little drop. Most critically, it’s cold. Super cold. We have a sharing platter of ham and cheeses, and all is well with the world.
23:30
For ease, we head back to the same place for dinner. We’ll do some more exploring tomorrow. Our dinner is lovely. Simple, grilled dishes in the main - and I have a cuttlefish risotto, a dish I was introduced to in Croatia, and which appears to be a specialty of this section of the Adriatic coast. Our bill is a slightly scary €450 for 8 of us. This feels more than a little steep. Interrogating the bill, it transpires that broadly half of that has gone on 4 bottles of wine - not an insane amount for us to have got through, but a whacking chunk of change. We resolve to be a bit more mindful of wine options when we’re out and about.
Whiskas proposes a digestif/nightcap, and this feels like a brilliant idea. We head to a little café only steps from our villa, and try Slivja. This is part of the Slivovitz family, so common across Eastern Europe, and particularly the Balkans. It’s a brandy made from damsons or plums. I find myself quite liking it, though it’s not to everyone’s tastes. The café has an entire section of their menu for ‘homemade’ spirits. Nicci insists that we try them all over the course of the week, and that’s the second brilliant idea in the past 30 minutes.
Vicks and I are both flagging. She’s managed about 90 minutes of sleep through the day, but is ready for an extended doze.Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 9
- tirsdag 30. juli 2024 22:17
- 🌙 19 °C
- Høyde: 419 m
SloveniaCerklje na Gorenjskem46°15’32” N 14°29’25” E
Day 9 - Westward, HO!

22:30
I have a beautifully long and deep sleep. I’ve not slept badly here, but neither has my sleep been brilliant. The cottage is quite warm at night, and I’ve only had my little hand fan to cool me down as I slumber. Reports from back home that it’s going to be 32C when I get home tomorrow, so no abatement.
Today is moving day. I get myself packed up, which takes all of 10 minutes. I play with the dogs in the garden for a while, then sink into one of the ultra comfy sun loungers, and read my book. Simone and Franz have very kindly offered to drive me up to my next stop, a small village close to Ljubljana Airport. They haven’t mentioned payment, but I can’t believe they’d offer entirely for free. It’s a good 2 hours each way. Any discussions have been between Simone and Kirsten, and Kirsten is not necessarily the best when it comes to detail.
Lunch is a simple plate of bread, cheese and salami, accompanied by a glass of a banging gazpacho, that Max made yesterday. My ride isn’t until 15:00, so I have a couple of hours to laze.
As the appointed hour approaches, I say goodbye to Kirsten and Max. It’s been amazing to hang out with them both, up here in the Slovenian winelands. Kirsten I just never feel like I see enough of, and Max I’ve got to know a whole lot better than I did before this trip.
We’re on the road in Franz’s big Ford pickup. Simone and Franz’s English is stilting (better than my Slovenian etc etc), so our conversation is a little challenging. Honestly - I’d be just as happy to watch the stunning scenery go by. We take a slightly different route up towards Ljubljana, which takes us through some beautiful forests and valleys. Truly breathtaking. The airport is about 30 clicks North of Ljubljana, and my room for the night is in a tiny village called Cerklje.
We make good time, and arrive into Cerklje. The sun’s still hot, but I head out for a walk in this stunning countryside. There are mountains not far to the North of us, empty fields as far as the eye can see, and a small, mountain river running straight through the village. This is apparently a popular base for skiers in Winter, and I can see why. My walk leaves me peckish. Next door to my accommodation is an Italian restaurant, that apparently does good pizzas. I’m taken by their offering of a ‘Ljubljana Steak’ though - pork fillet, battered out, then stuffed with local ham and cheese, breadcrumbed and fried. Perhaps not the healthiest thing I’ve eaten on this trip, but definitely one of the tastiest. I’m quite surprised to realise that this is the first meal out I’ve eaten during the trip. I’ve WAY underspent on what I had budgeted. Kirsten and I are both keen cooks, and actually coexist in the kitchen pretty well. As a result, we’ve shared the culinary workload quite happily, and - as it transpires, economically.
Back at my apartment, I catch up on some Olympic coverage. It’s one of the incredibly few times I get to see widespread coverage of world class hockey, and the advent of digital transmission means I can typically watch as much of it as I want. Earlier today, the GB team were involved in a nail-biter against the no 1 ranked Netherlands side. 2-0 down with 10 mins to go, the GB team scrape a draw, with a last minute short corner strike. Watching the whole game, it’s actually a fair result. GB had more of the possession and chances, but they’re gonna need a better goal conversion rate if they’re to go deep into the competition. The other game I watch is Belgium vs Australia. The Belgian team is ranked 3 in the world, and they dismantle Australia, and that’s something I can always enjoy…
Time’s cracking on. I’ve an early (ish) start tomorrow, to head home to see my amazing wife, and my beautiful boys. Think I surprised Vicki a little earlier, as she seemed to think I was heading back on Thursday. Momentarily, I panicked, and had to check it wasn’t ME that had got the dates mixed up…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 8
- mandag 29. juli 2024 23:06
- 🌙 19 °C
- Høyde: 244 m
SloveniaLitmerk46°25’56” N 16°9’50” E
Day 8 - please refer to day 5.

- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 7
- søndag 28. juli 2024 23:47
- ☁️ 20 °C
- Høyde: 292 m
SloveniaSvetinje46°28’12” N 16°10’29” E
Day 7 - Max arrives. As do the rains.

23:30
We both sleep well, and wake in good time. Max is arriving today, and we spend a fairly frantic hour or so tidying and cleaning up around the cottage. Not that it’s a tip or anything, but, you know - parents. We’re unclear from which station Max is departing Bled, and to which station she will arrive. We’re unsure whether she’ll change stations, or whether it’s a direct train. We have worked through this line of questioning via WhatsApp, and are still clueless. Max sends us an update. “On the train. Destination vague.”
Further updates happen. Max has been advised to head for Mursk Sobota, about 30km to the North of us. It transpires her train passes through Ormoz and Ljutomer on its way to Mursk Sobota though, so we arrange to pick up her at Ivankopji at 12:15. The train’s a touch late getting in, but she emerges, triumphantly, onto the platform. As a reward, we take her to meet our new friends at Puklavec Malek. We have a glass of wine each, sitting under the vines, looking over the stunning Jeruzalem valley. I take Max inside for a tasting. She’s bowled over by a couple of the reds they offer. We start writing down an order for some bottles, which rapidly turns into 3 cases. Max and Kirsten are heading from here up to Poland, where apparently buying anything except syrupy, sweet wine is a trial.
Back at the cottage, there are several afternoon naps. The heat is pretty stifling today - 34C and steamy. When we wake, the sky has clouded over. Petr, at Puklavec, warned us that storms were due in tonight. As I sit under the shade of the vines, the breeze noticeably stiffens. I hear the first hint of rumbling thunder a couple of valleys over from us, and the sky darkens. When the rains come, they are heavy, fat rains. Beautiful, big raindrops. There are relatively few lightning strikes, but the thunder continues for hours. The vines serve as a decent umbrella when the rain is light, but this heavy rain is flooding through the leaves. We shelter inside, and spend a delightful evening nattering away, drinking some of the wine Max bought earlier. Kirsten knocks up a quick salad from the veg garden, and I cooked a steak, and some local bratwurst type sausages. So simple, but so tasty. The rain continues, unabated. Around 22:30, Max declares she’s ready for bed. Kirsten and I do not disagree…Les mer
- Vis reise
- Legg til bøttelisteFjern fra bøtteliste
- Del
- Dag 6
- lørdag 27. juli 2024 11:02
- ☀️ 27 °C
- Høyde: 266 m
SloveniaMali Brebrovnik46°27’24” N 16°11’7” E
Day 6 - We must find wine.

16:00
Max arrives tomorrow, and the need to replenish red wine stocks has hit critical levels. We’ve what counts for a busy day planned. I’ve been sleeping pretty well the past few days. My room is warm, but my small electric hand fan has been doing wonderful things to keep me just the right side of cool enough. We’re both awake with an up and at ‘em attitude in decent time, and heading off to the beautiful lake at Kamenšnica Babinci just before 11:00. The forecast is hot, unbroken sunshine all day.
The small beach by the lake is fairly quiet - a combination of cyclists, fisherpeople, and swimmers. The quiet is very much broken by Juancho, who’s favourite water-based activity is swimming in circles, and barking incessantly. Juancho is very much a traditional, small yapper type dog. Mila is much more withdrawn, and likes less the sound of her own bark. They both have a great time splashing around, chasing their ball. About 45 minutes after our arrival, and family turns up with about 7 young kids. They plonk themselves down next to us. The kids are, well - let’s face it, noisy. They (the kids) also start casting nervous glances at the dogs, who are in full-on play mode, and yapping away. We elect to pack up and move on.
I’ve been in the sun for nearly an hour, so decide to take the car to do some grocery shopping, while Kirsten has some more play time with the dogs. It later transpires she is a little sunburnt, so strong are the sun’s rays today. We meander back through Ljutomer, before turning off onto a stunning country back road that takes us into the heart of wine country. We stop at a winery just outside Jeruzalem. We’re largely on the hunt for red wines for Max’s arrival. I taste 4, and buy one of each. They’re all great, but the standout is a grape with which I’m barely familiar - Vranec. Medium bodied, bright acidity, black fruit flavours. Yum. We reward ourselves with a glass each of white wine - a brilliant Pinot Gris / Sauvignon blend for Kirsten, and a Traminec varietal for me. The views across the valley are sensational, and wine’s pretty awesome as well.
Our next stop is about 3 minutes walk up the hill so a taverna with a wine shop attached to it. We get slightly distracted by the view, and end up having a glass of their flagship white wine, and blend of Chardonnay, Rhine Riesling and Pinot Gris. We’re both a touch peckish, so share a plate of locally made paté and bread. The dogs are both a bit jaded, so decide to try one more winery on our way back to the cottage. Our route takes us further and further towards the middle of nowhere - it’s s stunning drive through forests, valleys, vineyards. Sadly, on arrival it appears the winery is no more. I suspect a fair few of the smaller producers suffered at the hands of COVID. If they are even still growing grapes, I find myself wondering if their crop is given over to co-operative winemaking, rather than the personal financial burden of making their own wines.
We’re back at the cottage a little after 15:30. It’s properly hot, so I treat myself to a dip in the hot-tub. I decide against the jacuzzi bubbles, and there’s no way I’m heating the water up. It’s initially a bit of a system shock, but the cold quickly becomes a wonderfully refreshing cool. I air dry with a glass of wine and my book, and then consider I’ve earnt a nap.
23:00
I wake at 18:00, after a smashing 90 minute sleep. I’m on dinner duties this evening, so gradually mobilise myself to do some prep work. We’re having local sausages braised in red wine, and served with a warm lentil dish featuring flavours of bacon, roasted pepper and sun-dried tomato. I usually use Puy lentils, but only had green available in the supermarket. There’s a small snafu when it transpires I haven’t turned the oven on, but it my oversight corrected, it heats up quickly enough. As a light starter, we have some Gazpacho that Kirsten made earlier. The tomatoes are from the veg patch at the cottage, and are some of the best I’ve ever eaten. SO ripe, SO juicy, SO full of flavour. They are also, of course, all kinds of weird knobbly shapes and sizes. I don’t know that this actually mades a difference to their flavour, but it reminds me how sad it is to see utterly uniform fruit and veg in the supermarkets back home.
Kirsten declares my sausage and lentil dish a triumph. It’s really tasty - something I’ve cooked a bunch of times before, but very rarely as lentils don’t agree with my beloved wife. After we’ve eaten, we settle into an easy post-prandial patter of conversation. I think one of the reasons Kirsten and my friendship has endured so easily over the years is that we never run out of things to talk about, but are equally happy sitting in silence, without the need to fill the void. It makes for easy-going days. Around 22;00, we’re both starting to flag. I declare I’m not long for this day, and head to bed.Les mer