On the Road to Find Out

For the past 6 weeks I had been growing a beard for absolutely no reason. If there was a reason it was laziness. But maybe there was more to it than that. I began to look for the answers. I eventually found some sheer wisdom from the great Graham Taylor himself (at the time he was discussing the increasing beardage of Roy Keane):

“I do think there is a psychological thing about people who grow beards for no reason.”

“People may laugh at this and say it is absolutely silly, but he changed his personality when that beard was grown. My wife will tell you the truth. When I saw the beard I told her there were problems. I do think there is a psychological problem when people grow beards for no reason. I can’t believe they do it.”

Not one to fly against the logic of Taylor´s thought, it was clear I had to do something about it. This was how bad it had got:

Psychological trauma can be seen all over that face. I can´t believe I let it get so bad. I decided the best way to take off the beard was to do it in stages, trying to imitate as many football managers as I could in the process. As it was I completely failed, my Bic was not up to the job and Souness´s hair was just to radiant. I had visions of a Rafa Benitez goatee, Sam Allardyce with Hitler moustache, the hi-tec visions of Gavin Peacock perched on my chin. Instead, I ended up with these:

Dave Navarro – Has a famous footballer ever had a beard like this? I´m not too sure, maybe it´s a bit too rock.

As much as I want to fight it, maybe there is a touch of Phil Brown in this moustache. Come to think of it, after Phil Brown grew that moustache, the Hull team did seem to completely capitulate last season. I think Taylor might have been on to something.

Chris Kamara

And there you have it. Next on the list is Socrates. I think this may take some serious work. Or maybe I should try what this guy did – Jon Dyer’s blog

So far on this journey, I have:

• broken my camera
• lost my glasses, they are presumed dead
• lost an assortment of shirts and towels; not a day goes by when I don´t think of them
• lost a guitar tuner
• broke a replacement guitar tuner
• broken a ridiculous amount of headphones, I believe I am now on my fifth set. It´s very lucky that long coach journeys seem to come with free pairs
• and now to finish things off, my laptop has broken, it is not a happy bunny. I believe it has swine flu. The problem is, how do you rid a laptop of swine flu. It´s not easy, water only worsens the case. I really want to get it fixed here in Salvador, but the laptop shops look like the unfriendliest places in the world. I think I will have to wait til Rio
• Plus, this is an additional, my mp3 player has been wiped off all songs. Which means my bus journey to Rio will be a lot quieter than expected

Maybe I need to learn to take better care of my possessions. I´m not sure a plastic bag is sufficient protection for carrying around a laptop!

After Estudiantes made their comeback from 1-0 down to seal the Copa Libertadores with a 2-1 victory (mostly thanks to Veron, who was awesome on the night), the whole colour of Belo Horizonte changed. All shouts of ‘zeiro’ had been replaced with ‘galo (Atletico´s nickname)‘, blue scarves and flags had been replaced with black and white and I was no longer able to see the southern cross anymore (Cruzeiro means southern cross in Portuguese, and this emblem was everywhere before the game). Plus, the streets were filled with Brazilians wearing bald wigs, goatee beards and Estudiantes shirts, all in the name of Veron; Estudiantes´ hero from the previous night. Blue tombstones lined the streets.

I had been to the Mineiraõ before the Cruzeiro game to get a feel of the atmosphere and was now returning for the Atletico-Saõ Paulo game. The atmosphere was almost identical. If anything, the Atletico fans were more ebullient! It was if they had won the Libertadores.

Atletico´s nickname ´galo´means rooster, and boy do they love that rooster. He came running out before the game, smacked his rooster flag in the middle of the pitch and started to boogie. Understandably, the crowd went nuts! Everything the rooster did was received with fever pitch hollers. He really knows how to get the crowd going.

When the game started, it took Atletico 1 minute to open the scoring. They dominated and should have won by much more than the 2-o it ended up, but the fans wouldn´t have cared what the score was, this was their chance to party. Their neighbours had been cruelly denied a trophy and they were out to enjoy it.

Instead of watching Cruzeiro lose the Libertadores final and 300 Reais from my own pocket, I got to go to a better party with what for me, are the real football fans in Belo Horizonte, and only spend 5 Reais. I think I got the better deal, and the rooster most definitely seals it!

One week ago I had arrived in Piriapolis on the Southern coast of Uruguay. It had been raining all day, the sun had set and mist had begun to creep in. The only hostel in town was closed and so I walked around asking people for a cheap place to stay. Eventually I found a room above a little restaurant, with an unbelievably friendly waiter, Santo, who recommended highly the milanesa; one huge piece of meat in 2 bread rolls with salad and chips. The room was small with one wall completely dedicated to damp. The puddles that lined the staircase were some indication that this place was not being maintained to the highest standards. But it was cheap. I put down my bags, turned on the oil heater (maybe that will get rid of the damp) and ordered the milanesa downstairs. Santo brought over 2 plates, one featuring a huge piece of meat covered with chips, the other smaller plate with 3 of the tiniest bread rolls I had ever seen. I looked at Santo with confusion, his previous enthusiasm regarding this dish had well and truly disappeared. I picked up the newspaper and went straight to the sports. It was the third time Nacional were going to play Defensor in the space of the week. The first 2 had been draws and they had to keep going until someone wins. Then once one of the teams win they do exactly the same at the other teams ground. If that other team wins, they then do this whole thing again at a neutral ground until there is a champion. I considered going to Montevideo to watch one of the games, but figured that I could be there for weeks just waiting for the Champion to be announced (in the end it took 2 weeks for Nacional to win 2 out of 5 games and seal the title). The other game happening that night was Estudiantes vs Cruzeiro in the first leg of the Copa Libertadores final. I had considered going to one of the games but decided that La Plata in Argentina and Belo Horizonte in Brazil were just too far away. I thought about Piriapolis, about the damp room, the shoddy milanesa, the mist that meant it was impossible to see the sea even when your toes were in the water, and then I thought about North Brazil.

The next day I packed my bags, it was time to watch some football. I still had 6 days which meant I got to go see my friend Fernando in Treinta y Tres (my arrival was timed with that of the bakeries which meant I left with a bag full of dulce de leche-filled delights, always a bonus) and also stop in Curitiba for a couple of days (this place is know as the green capital of Brazil, so I wanted to see what the fuss was about). I had sent out a few messages regarding the Libertadores final and had found 2 people willing to buy me a ticket and give it to me when I got there. I chose the most enthusiastic of the 2 and felt quietly confident it would work out. It was not to be though. All of the tickets had been sold in 3 hours, people had queued for 24 hours just to get one and had still failed. On getting to Belo Horizonte (BH) I asked almost every person I met if they had a spare ticket. They didn´t. The touts were charging around 300 Reais for a 80 Real ticket and I really didn´t want to pay it. Through my whole process of trying to buy a ticket though I had realised one thing, that the real football fans were the supporters of Atletico Mineiro (Cruzeiro´s arch rivals). They were the ones who knew the most about football, they had the team with all the heritage but didn´t have the money to produce good teams as regularly as Cruzeiro, who seem to have one corrupt businessman as their President. So in the end I watched it in a pub surrounded by Atletico Mineiro fans and we cheered for Estudiantes, who eventually won. This was a bit of a shame as the party atmosphere that had been pulsing through BH all day had now dissipated completely, but I was also glad that they didn´t have to make my way through the stadium and back into the city with a load of angry Cruzeiro fans.

The game was last night. Tonight, Atletico play Sao Paulo. The price is 5 Reais, in the same 70,000 seater stadium and I get to watch it with real football fans. I think it was worth making the 2,000km trip just for this.

There’s something I’ve been holding back. Something I’ve been meaning to write for a while, but things have kept getting in my path. Not for much longer.

When I was in Rio I made one huge discovery which almost blew the top of my head off. It’s all to do with this fella:

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Okay, so it’s not gonna be possible to forget Iguazu falls in a hurry. Those are some big waterfalls!

The falls!

But there´s one other thing that sticks in my mind. This is the sight of a man flicking a cigarette into Rio Iguazu. He didn’t notice that I had seem him do this. His wife did and I think from the way her eyes widened before shirkily placing themselves back in her husband’s glance, she could see the rage that was coming over my face.

On the main viewpoint of the waterfalls you can look down and see a dozen plastic bottles nestled in amongst the rocks.

For some reason I assumed there would be more awareness of pollution and the environment in Brazil, after all it is their rainforest that is being chopped down for hamburgers.

My thinking was already heading in this direction though, due to the number of bags I was being given at the super market. Checkout girls looked on in amazement if I refused one. “Do you not want a bag?” “No”, “Are you sure?” “Yes”, “So you don’t want a bag then?” “No” And almost every item gets its own bag. Fruit goes in one bag, drinks in another, cold drinks in another still. Bar of soap? Gets its own bag.

On entering Parque Nacional da Iguazu, there are signs everywhere reading ‘UNESCO World Heritage Site’, ‘Vote for the New Seven Wonders of the World’, ‘Protect the Environment’. How can someone just throw a cigarette into the river? I just find the whole thing baffling.

Maybe I'm allergic

Next: I am on my way to Buenos Aires in a Super Cama. I have fully reclinable capabilities. And I have just been served warm beef and potatoes. This really is luxury.

Hold on, I almost forgot to talk about the beaches. They are surely the best thing about Florianopolis. There’s 42 of them in total. 22 of which have waves good enough for surfing. Some of these beaches are on the main roads, some are hidden away behind mountains begging to be trekked to. Everyone I went to was a complete sauna, with hot stones and everything.

The best beach by far is Praia da Lagoinha do Leste. Take a bus to Armação. 10 minutes walk south from Praia da Armação is Praia do Matadeiro. A further 2 hours walk from Matadeiro is Lagoinha do Leste. The walk has to be one of the best I have ever done. There are so many false corners, putting your heart in your mouth as you know there is going to be a beautiful beach coming soon. After 3 false corners, the beach opens up. A tasty mile of open beach with clear blue waters, bunched in by green mountains on all sides. I never wanted to get in the ocean so much.

Lagoinha do Leste

Praia Brava is another of my favourite beaches. Only problem was the amount of handbags around me. I think it must have been clearing out day at the old people’s home.

Praia Brava

I thought this photo looked a little bit like the cover of On The Beach. Now I´m not so sure.

Look, Neil Young!

Who´s this then?

Okay, so what other beaches were there.

Praia do Pantano do Sul & Praia da Solidão – amazingly quiet beaches, perfect for strumming a few chords in the afternoon or having a nap

Praia do Saquinho – about 2 rocks on this beach. One of which had some young couple perched a top. I think this is the place for an evening snack

Praia de Naufragados – I never reached Naufragados. I tried to trek but gave up when the heat got to me and I had ran out of water. One day I will find you Naufragados!!!

Praia da Joaquina & Praia Mole – perfect surfing beaches. Get your wetsuit on though cause it´s a bit chilly out there. Kinda like skegness, but without the constant stream of baby buggies

Praia da Barra da Lagoa – crowded beach, full of surfers but no waves. On a good day probably worth getting the board out. Otherwise just sit and watch the girls go by

Praia do Pantano do Sul

It is my 10th day in Floripa, and my final day. It´s now time to do my best Cain impersonation and get the hell outta here. These are the places I stayed:

• Pousada do Marujo, Barra da Lagoa – 3 days of nothing. Essential.
• Albergue do Pirata, Costa de Dentro – chilled out surfer dudes. Churrasco with Bavarians. Some of the most peaceful beaches on the island
• Geziel e Paula, Trinidade (Couchsurfing.com) – time to explore. Made it my mission to trek to the most far out beaches in the island and succeeded. I also got expertly fed by Paula and by Geziel´s mum, who was having a cataracts operation but used her one eye perfectly to guide food in my direction
• Murilo and the house of the forest (Globalfreeloaders.com) – it´s a house. It´s in the forest. There is a never ending supply of cats and a tiny bassett hound. This place was almost perfect. The only thing preventing perfection: I never did get to try out that triangle.

Getting drunk with the Bavarians. Spot the grumpy dutch girl

Okay, so one recommendation. Don’t try to find the house of the forest at night.

Maybe I was let down by the directions. It was 3 houses and a path to nothingness before I got an affirmative “yes, this is the house of Murilo.” In truth, once I reached it I knew it was going to be the one. The lights emanating an orange glow off the adobe brick and wooden frames within, dreamcatchers strewn across the porch with an unruly red leather armchair taking centre piece.

Tonight I need to relax, one of the housemates is ill. Things should be different tomorrow though. It’s jam night. I´ve already got my eye on the triangle.

The House of the Forest, it´s in there somewhere!

The migraine has subsided! For my last 2 weeks in England and week in Rio and Sao Paulo I have had one brutalising headache. The constant need to do things, the constant party and the struggle for sleep had all played their part in this, but finally it has gone.

The main contributing factor to the end of this migraine: doing absolutely nothing. For the past three days I have done nothing other than sleep, cook, eat and walk. My only spot of surfing leaves me looking like the japanese flag as my sun tan lotion application skills truly fail to hit the spot.

I could live here