On The Beach

Trip Start Aug 09, 2007
Trip End Jan 20, 2008

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Flag of Brazil  ,
Sunday, October 7, 2007

Nevil Shute. Neil Young. Chris Rea. And now me. Less post-nuclear than Nevil, though. Different Threads. More Chris Rea. Relaxed, to the point of coma. Oh yes.
The journey from Lima to Rio was easy. Back to Lima airport. I remember this place. Less of a wait this time - not trying to kill 8 hours at night. Check in. Head to the bar. But...it isn't there... What? It's only been four weeks. And they replace the bar with a shop selling bags, scarves, hats, etc. A sort of Accesorize, with more alpaca. This is no good. You can' drink a scarf. You could try, but it wouldn' be very refreshing. The fibres would stick in your throat. I had to go to one of those open plan cafe type places that are popular in airports. Central podium/counter. Tables surrounding it. Not as good. Much like a party I once attended, at which the host played all but one of his Joy Division 12 inch singles, there was no Atmosphere. It is always a sad event when a bar closes. To paraphrase Uncle Bob, It was only a crappy airport bar, but one more is gone. There should be more of them, not less. I once devised a plan to convert churches into bars. Well, not so much a plan, as it didn't go any further than thinking that churches should be converted into bars. No details. Not like Henry VIII and the monastaries. But you get the drift. They work well. Plenty of seating. Nice decor. Use the altar as the bar. There's one in Hull, I believe. I think I've been there. Although these things are invariably hazy. Especially with Hull. The Fish Trail - hunting for the golden prawn. The Sailmakers Arms, with its chipmunks. The Civil War era White Hart. And then onto Spiders, for Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters. I think the man from the Fine Young Cannibals owns a nightclub in Hull. Sillhouettes, maybe. Or another one. As I said, it's never clear.
So from Hull to Rio. Copacabana. And an enormous statue of Jesus, looking down on us. From a hill. The Hunchback. The name of the hill, that is. Not Jesus. At least not in this statue. I have been told I should go and touch the toe. It may cure gout. Or possibly baldness. But this is speculation, and I have no firm evidence for or against the idea.
Anyway, enough of this. I have to leave. To dance on the sand. Once more unto the beach, dear friends. And so on.
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tolstoy on

Ha ha!

Sod your travel World Wide Web based log (someone should thing up a short name for that). Here's mine!

Just got back from Atlantic City. I was on the boardwalk and I could see under it (in places). I stayed in a casino complex bigger that some countries that I've driven through. It was nuts! There are no clocks, no windows, and the ceilings are painted to look like the sky at 7pm in late summer.

Anyway, a Russian chick insisted we go to a vodka bar and took charge of arranging what everyone had to drink. I got something in a great big glass that I assumed was vodka and something. Not so. No something. I started a third glass, that just happened to be sitting on the table... Then someone woke me up and I went off to bed.

Met a chick called Kim (got her number) who was in a band called The Amazombies (still have to look it up). But she's not in that band anymore and I was too drunk to remember the name of the new band.

All the yanks are very liberal and left wing now. The first taxi driver I had apologized for Bush before anything else, everyone is pro choice and pro gun control. Everyone expects Hilary to win and is looking forward to it. Everyone is embarrassed by that bit between the coasts that's full of inbred redneck hillbillies. Everyone believes in global warming and wants the government to get serious. So maybe Bush was a good think in some ways.

Landed at Heathrow, needing to fly to Manchester. Queued up to join a queue, then joined the queue and queued. Then joined another queue, then another, then another. Then got on a plane. The plane was in a queue so we took off late. Then there was a queue to land, so we landed even later. I'll walk next time.

Anyway, gotta go and look up Amazombies on Google. Glad you're not drinking scarves. If they're made of more than one type of cloth you'd be in sooooooo much trouble with baby Jesus.

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