Brazil – The Final Dash

For the last couple of weeks I was in South America I had beautiful glistening fingernails, nail varnish is definitely underrated. I honestly didn't think that getting my first ever paid manicure would end in this way. Not that I notice these sort of things but since when did men start wearing nail polish? My manicurist thought it was normal, she must have, she put it on. I thought "nah, she's not putting on nail polish, it must be something else that will get removed before this ends". How wrong I was. The distressing part was not that it was applied, but rather, how long it took me to take it off. Every time I would think about getting it removed I wouldn't be in the position to do so, and every time I was in the position to do so I wouldn't think about it. After all there are lots of pharmacies in Brazil. I honestly started thinking that my subconscious brain was telling me something that I didn't yet know about myself. 2 weeks of nail polish that you think (I think I think) you don't want to have on is a long time to have on. The lesson learned is don't get a manicure, it is far too confusing.

So from the nail polish town, Oiapoque, I caught a bad overnight bus to Macapa (10 hours, bumpy dirt track for a long period, arriving at 4am without a hotel. Not fun but part of the backpacking repertoire). Macapa is situated at the head of the Amazon where it meets the Atlantic Ocean. The river here is more like a ocean, quite rough and very wide. I came here not for my last view of the Amazon but rather to catch a plane south to Sao Paulo, another overnight experience which you try to avoid. I hadn't been in Sao Paulo since 1994. Really enjoyed my stay, walking around and unsuccessfully straining the brain trying to remember any sights.

After a few days I took a far more sociable day bus to Rio de Janeiro, my last stop in Sth.America. On previous visits I had done most of the touristy jaunts so except for a gondola up Sugarloaf my days were spent walking along Copacabana beach or the streets that were squeezed between it and the nearby mountains. It was in these streets that I found somewhere to stay and it was here that my landlord, Pedro, invited me out on his sailboat with his family, Anna & Marianna. Had a great afternoon on the boat, cruising past Sugarloaf to the other side of the harbour, beers were plentiful and another great memory was added to the plethora of previous ones which will define my adventure in South America. Oh yes, the nail polish came off my second last day in Rio. Morocco and nail polish combination, maybe, but I wasn't going to risk it.