sarah babes & steve-o RTW!

...keep your eyes on the sky!

Mrs. Rea-Neill, a Caipirinha & Sunset over Rio (...and over this whole 10-11 month global saunter/honeymoon/epic-loaf). Rooftop of the Ipanema Plaza, overlooking Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas. Credit card took a hit, but hey we think we earned the last few days 4 star baby...

& Sunset from Arpoador rocks, Ipanema beach.

No more walking this...

...past sweet graf pieces like these.

More local graf. Healthy scene out here, also useful way-points for our sorry map-reading asses!

This time in 48hrs it's back to Tayto cheese & onion, Ormeau sodas and mustachioed teenage glue-begs... oh how we've missed 'Beautiful Belfast'. R.I.P. Jimmy Young.

How do we feel? Really? Ain't got a scooby. Well not that words can express. Not right now. We'll leave that for another day...

Sayonara comrades,

All our love,

To all at home & all on 'the road' who's paths we've crossed,

Steve & Sarah Rea-Neill.
XOX

PS: Written with tears in our eyes...

Freaky Brazilian transvestite midget warbler.

Picture if you will a cross between the wee one outta the Crankies and Chucky, then spawned from Amy Wine-merchants womb. Got it? Well it don't come close to this. Priceless bit of Brazilian telly. Scarier than Pamela Ballentine coming at yee with a strap-on...

Enough random rambling. We're back in Rio after our 2 week Bahian 'cultural' field-trip up north. From the Russ Abbot'esque atmosphere of the Forro party to the 'air of menace' on the streets of Salvador we really can say the craic has been around the 90 mark. Last night was pure A-Team, with no milk for the big man, just tequila. First flight I don't remember. Any other country woulda slung us reet oot the door tae fook! (Our soda-holes could not handle another 23hr bus journey.)

Can't get that slaphead Phil Collins' track about not being able to dance outta my scone either. In addition to lowering the tone of the Argentinian Milonga, our shameless spazzy dancing has now graced a few floors out here too. Holy bayjaysus! We. Cannot. Dance. That plan for the first dance at our wedding reception rapidly evaporating... Remember? That Tango idea? Uh-Oh... Though I've been Youtubing instructional videos for the 'Running Man'. Seriously.

Anyway, we made it. The final countdown now begins. We touchdown in Blighty on the 22nd July - then straight onto an Ireland de Norte connection. Right now though it just feels really comfortable being back in Rio. We're loving Ipanema - walking the streets, watching the people (from the corner cafe or the Chopp joint) it's all good baby, yeah. Err, apart from the budget...

So now it's all about us. No plan for the blog. No idea how it will end. With a bang? A wimper? Does anyone really care? Do any more nationalities/cultures need insulted? Dealing with the 'known knowns' (gotta love that Rumsfeld quote) we're getting ourselves chilled to 11 (a la Spinal Tap) and cranking up the loaf to maximum velocity, probably at the expense of keeping this place on the pulse. So there. C'est la Vie baby.

We're off out now to hit the streets. As mentioned previously, so much beachwear wrongness to spot here, so little time. We're also continuing our little pastime of spotting the best gay magazine titles at the kiosks - just spotted 'Sexboys', though our favourite* is the Argentinian 'Gaucho'. As in cowboy. Belter so it is like.

So au revoir comrades, until the next time...

S&S
XOX

Stop. Hammer time. Sorry. Pics...

Go team Bahia! Us, Matt and Laura. Caipirinha in hand. (How's that hangover guys? Damn those bloody tequilas last night!)

Bahia. Flag.

The surf-mobile! Matt, you get an invoice for that remote yet? He He. And yes, it was an almighty pain in the arse to drive.

You remember we mentioned a Spanish 'lesson' received at the footy game in Argentina? Where we learnt to swear like the locals at the Ecuador fans. Well Concha means shell in Spanish (and Portuguese too by the looks of it), but in South-American Spanish it's really quite the rude word - you know, that 'C' one (quite popular in Mockney gangster flicks). Maybe I'm the only one who found this funny, but that beach is called James Blunt. Ok, so it was only me then...

No, not rampant man-love. A Capoeira lesson on the beach at Itacare. Groin still fakked.

Forro band. Itacare. Unusually no accordian player this night. Folk music with a cracking rhythm backbone. Good to get your move on to. Though the high standard of dance (reminiscent in a way of Tango to us) meant the Gringos (us) hid at the back.

Main square, Morro De Sao Paulo. No cars on Tinhare island, transport options being donkey or wheelbarrow. Great to get back to a place like this, full-on tropical 'Manyana' attitude pervading every aspect of life, roosters waking you up in the morning...

...and a main street that's sand. You can almost touch both sides at some points with outstretched arms. This place would be awesome around carnival. By all accounts Bahia is the area to be, not Rio.

There's the taxi. Loving places where the beach forms a large part of the transport network. No, the dudes head ain't stuck in that horses arse.

EDIT: In our last post we incorrectly referred to Morro De Sao Paulo as an island, when actually it's a village on the island of Tinhare, just off the coast from Valenca (& 2 hours by catamaran from Salvador - thank JHC we didn't have breakfast before taking that bad-bwoy).

Rua Da Fonte Grand, Morro De Sao Paulo. Archway a remnant of colonial past. Our wee Pousada just off to the left. (Pousada Passarte - Mario your breakfasts rawk hombre!) We'll miss our little room there, with hummingbirds feeding outside, and bats swooping around the banana trees at night...

Leatherback turtle. Sanctuary at Praia Do Forte. These things are huuuge!

(Speaking of the 'Manyana' attitude on Morro, we have never witnessed so much overt Cheech and Chong activity anywhere, as we have in Brazil. That piney bud smell is everywhere. Witnessed a cleaner in Itacare mopping up the floor with a fat one in her gob. Quality!)

Any of you happy-clappers know what this is? A doddery old women gave us this last night. Motioned to pray with it between our hands. Gotta be a RC thing, yeah? L.L.B. you any ideas?

Guarana drinks. Real popular here. Damn nice too, think they've knocked the Incan colas off our taste top spot.

::Loving about Brazil::
-The racial mix. Described by a Brazilian we spoke to as the 'biggest milkshake in the world'.
-The sabores. Especially the drinks. Agua de coco, the guarana and of course the caipirinha. And how can we forget the Acai fruit?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A%C3%A7a%C3%AD_Palm
-The music & dance. What's not to love about the Forro?
-Ipanema beach.

::Not loving about Brazil::
-The perceived 'danger'. Real or what? We've only felt something tangible in Salvador (hence no pics - really frustrating because the colonial architecture there is really beautiful). Just read that 1% of the people own 50% of the land in Brazil. Holee sheet!
-The economy. Not good for two skint travellers.
-The per-kilo restaurants. Always eat too bloody much!
-The language. A head-melt getting to grips with, after being in so many Spanish speaking places.

PS: Dave, sorry we missed you over the twelth 'festive' period. We'll try and shoot up to Belo Horizonte and grab that pint with you & the missus. A stand off with the Brazilian filth woulda been nice on Saturday. He He. Get us prepped for our Norn Iron return. Oh yeah, and you certainly put a different slant on the fireworks activity here...

PPS: Dallas, where are you?

*Bloody American spell-check on my Mac keeps flagging this up! Here's me fakking whaa?!! It's NOT fakking 'favorite' you concha!

Her name was Rio...

''Those who do not like Samba are suspect; they're either sick in the head or lame in the leg."
Dorival Caymmi

Cao.

Present location Barra, Salvador (Brazil) - right on the mouth of All Saint's bay. (Not Rio, as per crapola route map.) This Bahia area being the Afro-Brazilian centre of Brazil (over 85% black - slave trade heritage), and home to the Candomble religion and Capoeira martial art. Also an abject lesson on the massive disparity of wealth in Brazil (World's 8th largest economy) - yesterday was spent feeding the beach homeless. OBE recommendations welcome! All joking aside, the government ain't going to help these people, and unfortunately we don't think Yemanja can do much either, regardless of Caymmi's words. Starving in paradise (& getting beat by the fuzz for kipping on the street) is surely the same as starving anywhere...

Being the only white faces most of the time is reminiscent of Asia. So maybe we'll get to add another country to our list of those we've been racially abused in! (But hey it's all good, especially for two chancers far from their cossetted western existences - being called 'Falang' or 'Gringo' is all the same to us, we can now empathise with the Chinese community in Sandy Row. What's that joke, something about the Chinese getting driven out, and Sandy Row starving to death?) Was it Jacob Holdt (of 'American Pictures' fame) that said 'You expect the worst in people, and that's what you will get'. And if we sound like that hateful bint Alannis 'Ironic' (no you twat, it's called bad luck) Morissette, please feel free to shoot us on sight... But we still aren't carrying the camera around. No sir. In fact I'm not even wearing my cheap-ass digital watch. If we're gonna get jacked on the street, then this really is the place. (Perhaps the first culture shock of this 10-11 month saunter? Is that ironic, being on the last leg? Must email that lentil muncher...)

Fridge magnets. Market stall. Pelhourino, old town Salvador. Couldn't believe it either...

So, Brazil see's for us our final language (Portuguese a right bugger! Just when you think you're on to something, bang, it's off on another tangent - like a crazed Welsh/Arab hybrid to our retarded ears!), final economy and final visa (our passports are completely battered now - running out of pages). Hard to comprehend, but in the words of Run DMC, that's the way it is. Three weeks today until our flight back to London (we seriously cannot believe Boris Johnson is mayor! What. The. Fakk?!), before we connect to Belfast. AND WE'RE STILL NOT D.I.V.O.R.C.E.D. !!! (Yes we know we said we wouldn't capitilise for emphasis, but surely that statement is worthy? We've spent more time together in the last 10-11 months, than most married couples probably do in 10-11 years. It certainly feels like it... Marriage, eh? Each day is better than the next...)

In the meantime it's all about the humps, lady lumps and suspect beachwear! Next stop, the car-free island of Morro de Sao Paulo. So for now we'll sign off and roll some pics... Ciao hombres!

Welcome to Rio! (And a surliness not experienced since Paris.) Copa-copacabana, the very beach. Pão de Açúcar (Sugar-loaf Mountain) visible.

Copacabana pavement. Distinct wave pattern. Visible everywhere in this country.

Spot the tourist! Only coco juice in the 'nut, but an idea we might borrow for our wedding reception back in Blighty. Serve up those caipirinha's, oh yes!

Another national beer to sample. Starting to feel like work now... Actually, no.

Pão de Açúcar (Sugar-loaf Mountain). That's the cable-car from 'Moonraker' by the way, where 'Jaws' bit through the cable (and where I filled my britches). Oh, and for the kids, 'Moonraker' is an old Bond flick.

Worth the laundry bill for the view. That's Red Beach, and Copacabana in the distance...

...and Botafogo, overlooked by that famous statue of the holy bearded one, 'Christ the Redeemer'. (If you're getting all Chinese eyed, it's the couple of pixels on top of that mountain to the left.)

Our little home in Ipanema.

'The' cafe - birthplace of 'The Girl from Ipanema', by Antonio Carlos Jobim & Vinícius de Moraes. And where we got acquainted with the national drink, the caipirinha. Nice.

Though we think we actually prefer the Peruvian Pisco sour - sampled by us in the sublime Astrid Y Gaston, Lima. Anthony Bourdain famously necked twelve in there over lunch, I was speaking Peruvian after only four... Yes, I sit down to piss...

'The Girl from Ipanema' team in the studio...

Even the mannequins here got big ol' booties! This place all about the lady lumps. And the man lumps too actually. A Lot of too tight shorts, made with too little material. 'Budgie smugglers' we believe you call them. Ipanema beach really has foisted some quality beach-wear wrongness on the rest of the globe! (We didn't realise it's also the main 'gay' beach hangout - got touched for again! Well I think he was putting out - haven't ever encountered a dude fully thonged up doing the splits right up in my grill. The budgies almost had an eye out. We should have realised the rainbow flags weren't representing Cuzco/Peru independence...)

Iguazu Falls. Argentina/Brazil border. (Brazil left of river, Argentina to right). Looking straight up at the 'Devil's Throat'...

...and up close.

Isla Martin visible to left.

Smiley levitating snake alert.

Bad ass condor. Sitting on a rock beside falls. Not apparently giving a monkeys about our camera stuck up in it's boat-race.

Random tropical bird. Any twitchers out there know what this is? Looks like a 'blue-couponed' Magpie to us...

Game over.

More tomfoolery from Morro de Sao Paulo.

All our love,

S&S
XOX

PS - Almost forgot, Bahian independence day tomorrow. Yee-harr! Samba time!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bahia

Anybody got 'wee' Eamon Holmes mobile number? Need to borrow some slacks off him...

Garrapinadas on the street, bife chorizo at the Parrilla, Malbec, Quilmes, Empanadas, Super Panchos, Alfajores...this place all about the chow! Perfect for animal lovers such as ourselves. Lovers of animals dead and cooked. (Slightly concerned regarding the toxoplasma issue in previous post. Maybe it's all tiaras and tantrums from now on?)

You can't help loving a city where the official tourist board info advises, we quote "The night activity is intense in Buenos Aires. A typical night could begin with dinner at 11pm, a visit to a bar at 1.30am, a discotheque at 3am, followed by breakfast at a cafe at 7.30am." Sweet Jaysus, could you see Belfast City Council putting that out, eh?! Thank Christ the DUP don't hold any sway out here...

Last night. Well this morning really @ Club69.

There is just a staggering amount of coolness awaiting exploration here - from MALBA to milonga, bars to boutiques...reminiscent of London or Paris, but bigger than both and with a tangible 'passion' (For life? Love?). Maybe that's a cliche, but certainly the people we encounter seem more gragarious than in either of those places. Even the Spanish (Castellano) spoken sounds more poetic than in Espana - obviously except when we're mangling it. Though we have 'No intiendo' perfected. Oh yeah, and 'Puto'. ('I don't understand', & 'Man-Whore'.)

But tomorrow the Porteno dream ends. The lease on our apartment is up, so we're breaking for the Brazilian border (Puerto Iguazu to be precise). We're really going to miss this city and the Porteno lifestyle (especially our 'hood Palermo Soho). The novelty still hasn't worn off having cable TV and broadband (and a comfy settee ('couch' is for douchbags) - think we've watched nearly all the Euro Cup games so far, and skype'ed everybody in Norn Iron).

Never did make the Tango lessons though - you get to the milonga too late and you're fakked by locals deftly throwing it down on the floor. Way too intimidating for a pair of left-footed gringos...

So we gotta go. Friday night, theatre performance to attend (featuring our landlord's brother as a mannequin (sounds like a role perfect for Keanu Reeves...), in a b-movie suspense comedy. In castellano. Oh the fun we're gonna have tonight...).
http://www.teatrodelpueblo.org.ar/obras/automaticos.htm

One last hurrah then before we're back 'on the road'. Sixteen hours of coach hell tomorrow...

Buenos noches amigos.

Love,

S&S
XOX

Argentina v Ecuador. World cup qualifier Sunday 15th June - River Plate stadium. Where we learnt to swear in castellano. Now we can insult people after we tell them we don't understand...

Us and our 'landlord' Manu. Muchos gracias for the hospitality hombre. Pass on our regards to the ol' man and rest of family. And ta for the, eh, the other...

Missing out on a Boca Juniors game at La Boca stadium, we just had to go down Maradonna's neck o' the woods for a saunter. You can't go far without encountering the holy handed rakers smiley coupon. Here he is holding a flip-flop. Here's me whaa indeed?

http://www.fernandezfierro.com/home.php
Fernandez Fierro. 'New-Wave' tango infused...in fact brain freeze even trying to contemplate genre. Probably the most outstanding live musical performance we've witnessed. Surely this is what Gardel would have wanted? Go check 'em...

The closest we'll get to any Gauchos. A highly camp, fully bizarre, euro-techno cheese-fest drag rendition of 'Don't Cry For Me Argentina'.

Old dude. In a cape.

*unlike every other fakking blog (usually American), we made the decision to not:
1/ Bang on about Che Guevara as if we knew him personally.
2/ Feature lots of gratuitous La Boca shots (then congratulate ourselves on being so 'brave' venturing into a 'working class' area). **

**Which has just reminded us, maybe another 'rant' post is due soon...T.O.X.O.P.L.A.S.M.A. (Just how long is it since we've been in a Buddhist country?)

Yeah nerds, the pic is upside down. But check it out. It's only Southpark Jesus (Christian shindig, downtown Arequipa - Peru).

As we have a little downtime right now, we thought we would post up a few pics missing from our previous hasty thread. Once we locate a rifle that is... (to shoot the bastardo of a parrot that's outside our window. The feathered cnut has just worked out how to imitate a police siren.)

As stated, off to Buenos Aires on Friday (30th). Just booked ourselves an apartment:
http://www.sweethomebuenosaires.com/apartamentos_ampliado_en.php?id_Depto=86
One month of bad tango and cheap steak coming right up, yesssir!

Oh yeah, we're in Lima right now. Haven't updated route map, but who really gives a monkeys eh?! 2 days to explore, so we'll see y'all on the flip-side.

Roll 'em...

Juanita. Incan sacrifice. Looking well...

...after 500 years buried in Ampato. Sacrificed to pacify the volcano gods. (Pic taken from over 5000m above sea level - think Ampato peak is around 6500m?)

Desert graves. Nazca.

L-R: Andy, Lisa, Ricardo (pilot), Steve, Sarah, Adrianne. In front of our little plane, chartered to fly us out over the Nazca desert and the mysterious 'Nazca Lines'.

And here they are. You'll probably need the high-res pic to spot anything though. 800 lines, 300 geoglyphs and some 70 biomorph animal and plant drawings. That's the Panamerican highway running right through them - I'm sure Maria Reiche is turning in her grave. You may also spot an observation tower down there too - where I got touched for by the gayest dude in South America!

The 'Spaceman' (or Owlman), carved in rock, bottom left.

Ica, Peru. The 'Inca trail' team off sandboarding in the desert.

Looking for the perfect dune...

Ready to roll...

Shantytown, Nazca. People displaced following previous earthquake. (You may remember last August's quake? That essentially destroyed Pisco. Really ballbreaking to see the aftermath now - the church on the main square went down taking 400 people inside with it.)

Random parrot, random house. Andes.

Our crew for the Inca pilgrimage trail. More than 20 porters to support 15 of our sorry asses over 53km of high altitude exertion.

Macchu Picchu. Sun temple. Main altar. Unfortunately no virgins handy to sacrifice. Well the missus is from Monkstown...cough.

Tequile, Bolivia. Kid. Sign.

Tequile. Archway. More bloody bowler hats. Eh?!

Tequile. Men in traditional dress. The playa on right in pic is wearing the hat of a single man (you notice the white?), but he's only married. Gangsta.

Tequile. Mudhouse. Dollhead embedded in wall. Eh?!

Tequile, Titicaca. What a vista! The ubiquitous Inca Kola (Coca cola's product not competing in the Peruvian market? No problemo, just buy the competition out. Which they did.), and some damn fine quinoa soup.

Titicaca. Uros women...

...and the bad bwoy they use for catching fish.

This particular island had an internal dispute, and upon reaching no resolution the aggrieved party(s) brought out the saws and cut themselves off. Literally. Sawed off their part of the island. Floated off somewhere else for the quiet life. Quality.

Puno. Hotel sign - 'no scruffs'. ('no pirates' maybe?) That's me f**ked then...

Cuzco market. Anybody seen 'Village of the Damned'?

A right royal Maoi laptop uprock on the blog machine...

Raraku, Rapa Nui.

Raraku. Maoi quarry. Original tool, and half complete Maoi statue in situ.

Rapa Nui, 'Bellybutton of the Earth'. Strange magnetic stone, completely at odds with the geology of the island...

Holds a certain 'mystical' significance amongst munchers of the lentil. Here's one...

Hang on, that's the missus...

S**t the bed captain, it's a Maoi dong!

And where it all started. The first Polynesians arrived here, Anakena beach on Rapa Nui, several thousand years ago. Also where that crazy Finn Marko Kulju tried to steal a Maoi ear: http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/mar/26/7?gusrc=rss&feed=networkfront

Santiago, Chile. Ice cream van. Or military vehicle deep cover...

...on the Pio Nono, Bellavista. Real nice bohemian part of town.

Okay, we're gonna sign off now. But before we do, we gotta show you one of the sweetest things of the trip...

The above mentioned porters from Inca trail cooked up me and the missus a kick ass wedding/honeymoon cake. I mean, this is on the Inca trail. And they cooked a cake. For us. Sweet Jaysus this was a magnificent gesture.

As the Andes are now becoming a backdrop to our lives (in much the same way as the Mekong river did for so long in S.E.Asia), from bathing our feet in glacial pools to sleeping above the clouds, let us introduce the Andean cross:

Andean Cross, Macchu Picchu. Potent Andean icon. That particualr stone only forms the full cross on Solstice - the shadow on ground completing the symbol. If you look closely (maybe on the high-res pic) you'll notice my own smaller talisman resting upon the stone. Many theories - the triple step on each side representing the 3 layers of life (reminiscent of the 3 tiered Buddhist Wat roof), perhaps memorable Incan wars, pyramids, the 4 sections representing important ancient Incan territories, the 4 points representing the Southern Cross constellation...and so on.

And so it is that we are starting to feel South America getting under our skin. A certain je ne sais quoi we haven't felt since S.E.Asia. A more 'passionate' people for sure (did I mention my wedding ring and the sink incident in Santiago airport? Got a real 'passionate' bollocking from an airport official for taking apart the sink plumbing - you can guess what happened!). My thoery: http://scienceblogs.com/loom/2006/08/01/a_nation_of_cowards_blame_the.php (Well not mine, but Mr. Zimmer's. You know what I mean.) The fermented corn juice ('Chicha') tastes so damn good we just don't want to leave. (That Rio-London flight looking ever more likely to get moved...he he!)

But alas we must do one. We'll kick this place into shape when we settle in Buenos Aires. Until then, as always, all our love,

S&S
XO

EDIT: Maria Reiche devoted the latter part of her life to researching the Nazca Lines. Check this link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maria_Reiche We would strongly advise visiting the Maria Reiche centre in Nazca before viewing (that p45 in the post for our researcher!). Also you get a chance to fit in some star gazing via their telescope - on the night of our visit we got to see a pretty damn flawless Saturn, rings and all! Result!