I like the sound of that
Trip Start
Jun 05, 2006
1
32
33
Trip End
Sep 04, 2006
Buzios, Brazil
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Staying at the Brava hotel, an incredibly chic & stylish boutique, we were immediately handed a Strawbellini and given a tour of the grounds. Floaty curtains were everywhere! We spent the next couple of hours trying to take arty photos of the multitude of white sofas, gazebos etc with which to impress our friends with when we got home.
SIMON: All that was left to do was to refurbish Alison's bikini wardrobe with a trip into the very pretty little town, where, to my delight, there was a swimwear shop on every corner. As my fiancé would say, bikinis were everywhere. And fortunately they are only about $6 a pop, so I didn't mind her stocking up. West End style at East End prices, as many a dodgy Bethnal Green boozer is prone to boast.
ALI: The next day, we headed down to Brava beach to frolic Bardot style on the sand. However, being winter here, the tide was permanently in and I'm afraid to say sand was not everywhere. Still, we settled down on our sunbeds on the good square metre of the soft white stuff and watched as the waves grew perilously close to our new flip flops.
After an hour or so, the fierce waves drawing ever closer, it seemed as if we were in danger of being swept away and so we decided that it was time to 'sink or swim' as it were, and so, holding hands and declaring our love for possibly the last time, we dived into the turbulent waters.
Crashing, booming waves engulfed us, drawing us ever further from dry land and it wasn't long before I heard the inevitable "Help! Help!" coming form a salty-mouthed Simon as he waved his arms frantically in distress. "Just stand up, dear, the waters only 2 foot deep," I told him kindly, saving him form further embarrassment.
SIMON: To be fair, though, the old centre of gravity has been altered drastically since we've been away on account of all the fantastic food we've been enjoying, and I fear I may have put on the odd pound, which certainly did not help in the choppy waters. I knew I was in trouble when I was having to breathe in so that I could zip my sleeping bag up in Santa Catarina, but I digress.
The waters here really are quite rough, though, and this is well indicated by the fact that we were the only people braving the sea without surfboards, if you don't include the ten minutes Ali spent nearly drowning me by standing on my back in an attempt to 'catch a wave'. We had to get back out soon enough for fear of a salt-induced heart attack, the amount of sea water I was ingesting.
ALI: It was fun though, wasn't it? And I forgive your complete lack of buoyancy.
That night we went to a lovely little restaurant called, er, 'Brigittas', where we were given the best beachside table. Quite predictably, a heavy thunderstorm soon ensued to provide us with another soaking and so we decamped to the Rock n Roll bar to drown our sorrows and be entreated to excellent renditions of Dire Straits classics from the house band.
I was tickled pink.
