24/2 – Snart så kommer Kall… Pontus och hans vänner.

Two more sleeps and then the three Musketeers from Stockholm will arrive. Some 10 days of keeping me company in Rio where I’ll try to get started on that list of touristy things to do as well. We’ll start off right away with a weekend trip to Buzios to enjoy some cleaner water, nicer beaches, cosier bars and whatever else the place might have to offer. A town about 3 hrs away and trusting the web sites, water sports should be big, so some wakeboarding or snorkelling wouldn’t have to high odds.

So far, my impression of the Brazilian general skills of using maps, road signs or various navigation devices, hasn’t been that stunning. I haven’t seen a single map in a single car yet and planning ahead for turning and shifting lanes etc is normally not based on any information you might get from overhead road signs. The usage of GPSes is normally seen as a challenge to make the poor thing recalculate the route as many times as possible by doing the opposite to what it recommends. Having said that, I don’t want to state that the Brazilians don’t know where they are when driving. Most of the time they totally know where they are in relation to where they came from or where they’re going, and sometimes both, which after all, is what’s most relevant. I guess we’re getting a bit carried away with advanced systems, satellite maps and way points in Europe when driving boats and cars at times. As long as the screen is telling us we’re on the right path, the windsurfers, old men fishing from small rowing boats, tractors and new exits, which opened last week, are being swooshed past with eyes locked on the screen instead of the reality.

Anyways, I quite like my maps (and paper calendars as well still) and I also like to know where I am and where I’m going, not only in reality but also on a piece of paper. Therefore, yesterday’s mission after work was to find a proper road map for the state of Rio de Janeiro, including the roads we’ll be using to go to Buzios for the weekend. Since I’m a “jag-kan-själv” person I went straight to the shelf for travelling books and maps in the bookshop to find what I was looking for all by myself. Lots of maps there, all in sealed plastic covers and not too obvious what they were actually covering. Ruled a few out which seemed to be for the city of Rio only and of course also all the ones on the shelfs for maps for other countries than Brazil. No luck. Ah well, better ask for help then. Even if the shop assistants might not be world champs in reading maps, they should know what they’re selling and where to find it I assumed. Using my very best Portuguese I explained that I was looking for a map for not only the city of Rio but for the whole state of Rio, with Buzios as a very suitable example. She took off right away to show me where they were and started looking.
No Brazilian road maps by the Lonely Planet books apparently, and not by the city maps for Asian capitals either. Patient and polite as I was I didn’t say anything but waited and let the girl keep looking. Perhaps things would get misplaced every now and then at the end of the day as in most shops and libraries. But when the shop assistant started browsing through the Michelin road map book for the Benelux countries to find Buzios I gave up… Might be a town just outside Brussels also called Buzios but that’s not where we’re going this weekend. Pontus, we’ll stick with the road signs instead and I’m sure we’ll get there and back just fine.

21/2 – There’s a first time for everything.

And in this case, it was definitely not the last time – brownies in the microwave oven, mmm… After some two months plus without a proper oven, I thought I should at least give it a try. I’m not the biggest fan of the microwave, except for thawing things and heating the milk for my brunch lattes, but not being able to make any home made bread, roasted potatoes or veggies or any brownies for so long has caused this 80’ies kind of thinking to invade my brain. If we could do anything but boiling eggs and drying our cats in the microwave some 20-25 years ago, I’m sure brownies should be possible still. I wouldn’t call them my best brownies ever, but they turned out ok. No gooey, crunchy edges and not really made for any culinary photo shoots, but icing sugar, whipped cream or ice cream could easily disguise that. Couldn’t be any quicker or cause any fewer dishes than this though.
So what’s next? Bread? Scones perhaps not to make it too advanced? Lasagne? Think I’ll save the lamb roast for a while...

How about some knowledge exchange between Scandinavia and Brazil? Brazil shows Scandinavia the trick how to make proper glad wrap (the wrap over here can actually be used the way it’s supposed to…pretty sticky when you end up tangling it though) and Scandinavia can bring some check-out-counter efficiency to the supermarkets here. Some space for the baskets, some room for the groceries and other hi-tech stuff that might be hard to come up with by yourself.

20/2 – Haag, Hellner, Olsson…who’s next?

Ok, Norway is still ahead of us in number of medals...but I don't care, it's the cross-country skiing that counts! I’m sure they’ve sneaked some stupid ice skating or Nordic Combination in there as well. Hard to tell if my heart beat is getting close to max due to the cold or due to Hellner and Olsson...but considering the goose bumps all over I've decided it's thanks to Mr Gold and Mr Bronze :-D Just missing the Swedish commentators, even though the Brazilians seems to be quite keen on the Swedish skiers it's not really the same having the excitement being commented on in Portuguese. Oh, ice-hockey counts as well...once we get to that far in that...and perhaps some downhill skiing...

18/2 – Back to reality big time & more drugs.

As if it wasn’t enough having to go back to work today (well, yesterday afternoon actually), my body also thought it should give me a proper cold to struggle with on Tuesday night. Come on, I have been good. I have tried to catch up on as much sleep as possible. I didn’t drink a single drop during the carnaval. I haven’t been wearing my wet togs for too long after getting out of the water. I haven’t overdone the air condition thing and kept 15 degrees in my flat. I have been taking my vitamin C’s and most of all, I haven’t been licking on the elevator buttons (tack Stefan Holm). Must have been sitting on something cold thus or perhaps it’s because I’m not wearing a beanie?
Thanks to this I had my drug struggle number two. And since I hadn’t checked up on the active substance in nasal spray beforehand I was up to a bigger challenge this time than the last time with the Paracetamol. Ok, body language for having a cold and needing nasal spray isn’t that complicated (only looks weird) but once I saw the shelf for different nasal drops and sprays I almost gave up right away. Not only one or two or five different ones, but about 35… Should I start from the left or right? Most of them turned out to be just pure saline spray. Hm…couldn’t be that easy could it? Better buy one of those just in case, and a couple of other ones with some strange substances in…none that I could recognize unfortunately. At the end of the day I didn’t dare use any of them, except for the pure saline one, you never know how your nose might turn out. Did some googling at work and ordered some familiar stuff from the nearby pharmacy instead. For future reference, Oxymetazoline or Xylometazoline, that’s the stuff you want.

Quite hard to focus on Portuguese homework with the Olympics going on, especially with Anja crashing and the cross-country skiing sprinters in full action. Better get ahead of schedule with the studying since the weekend won’t be much easier.

How about some motion pictures from the carnaval to escape reality for a few more minutes? I won’t get any Academy Awards for it, but at least you’ll get some feeling about what it was like…including a proper samba dancing sequin bikini girl. Enjoy Unidos da Tijuca!

16/2 – Carnaval 4 & Overload of senses.

I don’t think my five senses have ever been so close to overload as during the last few days. At least three out of the five have been working in high gear, the colours, the sounds and the smells are fantastic. The carnaval is just an explosion of colours, the sight of costumes never end. And the colours and materials never end. Sitting there watching is, I so wished I had one of those gigantic cameras, so I could have sneaked up closer to the railing and gotten some good close-ups.

And the smells - if you could wear out your nose, I’m probably quite close to it now. Both the carnavel, but perhaps even more, the blocos are a constant mix of smells. Some amazingly pleasant, some I could live witout. Sweet caramelised popping corn, pungent urine, grilled chicken skewers, sweat, buttery corn on the cob, beer, cheese bread…the list could go on.
Will skip the carnaval spirit and give my nose an extremely salty lagoon and probably some dead fish to smell for the afternoon – kite surfing on the schedule.

15/2 – Carnaval 3 – The Day.

Did you see me? In the parade of the second samba school of the night: Imperatriz Leopoldinense. I was there, on the right, quite far back, just after the big golden bull and before the gigantic turquoise mosque. Dressed in black and white, with a shield with feathers on my back and one camel head on each shoulder. I waved to you through all the cameras I could see so you should have been able to spot me while I was singing along to the song with my very own words and doing my very best to make the night gown looking costume swing like if I was dancing some samba underneath it. Surrounded by other gringos who were more or less as skilled as me when in came to remembering the lyrics about how the Indians pray and the Christians dance…or if it was the other way around.

We all tried though, tried to move our mouth all the time, tried to move our feet the best we could, tried to smile non-stop for the half hour we passed the stands and most of all, tried to keep the lines. Wow, I’ve got a whole new respect for soldiers, marching bands and samba dancers now. Try to get a bunch of newbies walk in lines of seven with gigantic costumes swinging everywhere and having so much to look at all around. And as that wasn’t enough, when you think we got the hang of it and the guy yelling in Portuguese looked almost happy, they gave us a 90 degrees turn to pass. Come on, that’s even supposed to be hard for professionals. How on Earth were we supposed to ever get back in line after that passage? We did our best though, lines of 3, lines of 10, someone lost in between. We had a great time anyways and I hope we didn’t lose to many points for our school.

After passing the final stands of the Sambodromo, I was up for the next challenge: Finding my friends somewhere on the stands. Ok, water first, then finding friends. Not only people to zick-zack between but also all the left over costumes. Piles and piles of costumes everywhere, a dream for someone who loves masquerades and would happen to have a truck nearby. I’m going to keep mine though, with a high risk that it will be one of these big, bulky things you keep moving from place to place and store under your bed until you give up 10 years later, when you realise that it’s falling apart and that you haven’t used it even once since you got it. But I’ll deal with that in 10 years. Thanks so much HHH, would have made a lot of enemies on the stands without your help. Oh, almost forgot, Unidos da Tijuca – WOW!
Tonight? More blocos or carnaval? Nah, think I’ll samba from the couch tonight, with my feet up to give them some well deserved rest.

To be continued…with more photos, films and music.

14/2 - Carnaval 2 & The Inescapable Day.

Wake up before the alarm – check.
Nice and sunny outside – of course.
Morning run around the lake – check.
Egg and bacon brunch with caffe latte on my balcony – check.
Pretending I can read a Brazilian paper while having brunch – check.
Samba song lyrics memorized – almost.
Ticket for the show – on it’s way over here.
Water bottles – check.
Carnaval outfit as in minimal bikini covered in sequins – I wish.
Arabic shepard costume with sheep heads on the shoulders – yup.
Camera – check.
Samba skills – missing big time.
Afternoon nap to manage the whole night – will do.
Samba spirit and Carnaval mood – getting there.

Think I’m as ready as I can be and it should all kick off at 9 pm tonight. The school I’m joining should be up at about 10.30 pm as the second school of the night and I think I’ll have an experience like nothing else tonight.

Throughout the week, I’ve been kind of proud of Brazil. Finally a country, which boycotts the American commercialism, at least a little bit. In this case by skipping Valentines Day today. Not my favourite day of the year really, for several reasons, so to me, the Carnaval couldn’t have taken over the place at a better time. It wasn’t a very long lasting relief though. It turned out that Brazil has just moved this moneymaking day to June instead. No way they are going to miss out on a chance to show some extra love to their near and dear ones. To all of you who are not in Brazil though, I’ll put my principles aside and wish you a Happy Valentines Day. ♥

13/2 – Carnaval 1 & Risky Business.

First day of enjoying the party of the year. After a slow morning, a gym session and some grocery shopping, Band Ipanema and mingling with the crowd were on my schedule for the late afternoon. Just crazy with all these people everywhere, young, old, tall, short, skinny, fat, straight, gay, carioca or gringo, the best mix of all – everything, everyone, everywhere. The only people missing were the sad and angry ones, - wherever you turned, smiles, smiles smiles and some more smiles.

Caipirinhas were served on every corner by anyone who brought enough to earn some money and had some plastic cups to serve it in. Music, singing, dancing, drinking and outfits that would move a proper American Halloween costume to the B-team right away. Normally, I wouldn’t put pictures of people on the internet, unless I’ve checked that they’re ok with it. However, I’m making an exception from that rule today though and somehow I don’t think the ladies above will mind for a single second.
For two months and 3 days I’ve managed to resist the temptation, but today I couldn’t handle it anymore. My eyes have been longing, my mouth has been watering and my stomach has been screaming for it for so long. Corn on the cob with butter and salt…mmm…as close to heaven as I could get on a sunny Saturday afternoon and as good (and fast) as fast food would ever get. The people serving it are everywhere with their small wagons, a big pot with hot water, the cobs, some salt and a container of butter is all they need under their umbrella. Definitely risky business considering gringo’s ability to handle carioca food at times, but hey, let’s live life on the edge and take the risk. Could be a good check to see if my stomach has toughened up a bit or if I will need to feed it some concrete.

Thanks SPORTV2 for keeping us snow loving people in mind. I hope the Swedish performance picks up a bit after today’s Biathlon disappointment though.

11/2 – Today’s mission in a trouble free world.

How do I tune in a TV-channel that will show something else than sequins, peafowl feathers and belly buttons for the next few days? For example, the Winter Olympics. If it wasn’t for my bad habit of getting stuck reading various Swedish news web sites, instead of broadening my knowledge about the country where I actually live at the moment, I could have missed the Vancouver happening totally.
Last night I went through all my qazillion TV-channels that seemed to have anything to do with sports, without any indication whatsoever that they will broadcast anything like bobsleigh or aerials or any other common sport from tomorrow and onwards. What a hassle and what a major problem for the world... Nah, not really.
Somehow, I might manage anyways though, the Olympics seem very far away after all when everyone is gearing up for the party of the year – Carnaval! Since about a week back, there are blocos - street parties that go on from about 4 pm until early morning hours - every night, samba tunes in every corner and people wearing anything but a lot of clothes, ski helmets or ice skates. However, I might ask the front desk a humble question tomorrow morning if there is any chance I can get Eurosport...

Ladies and gentlemen, depending on where you are let the
a) party or b) games begin.

9/2 – Hiking and Havaianas.

Last Saturday I finally got around to see some of the beautiful nature around Rio. I have heard a lot about it, and how close to the city you can find some really nice surroundings. Somehow, I haven’t really made it any further than my runs around the lake until now though. Together with a Norwegian friend and his colleagues I was going to walk up Pedra da Gávea, 828 m of spectacular mountain just west of Rio and 20 minutes away by car.

The trail leading up to the summit offers you quite a challenging hike at times, with some semi-climbing (for those of you who are climbers, read crawling) of rocky parts where you shouldn’t think about how far you would fall if you happened to slip. The Scandinavian expat troop was well geared up though, as always. You can never be too thorough when it comes to safety and surviving the wilderness. Plenty of water, nuts, raisins and bananas (of course), potato chips for the salt, sun block, sunglasses, sturdy shoes, back packs and even a climbing rope. Swedes and Norwegians in a nutshell. After some 45 minutes of hiking we met what seemed to be a school class of boys, half running down the trail, one of them carrying a ghetto blaster under his arm. Ok…fine…they probably hike up to stay the night a couple of times a week or so and are used to it…and for sure they wouldn’t have been all the way up…
About half an hour later we got to the most challenging part of the hike, and to be honest, I can’t remember crawling up too many of such steep, rocky parts before. And I will gladly admit that the rope did make it a lot easier and more comfortable to get up when you couldn’t really reach for anything to hold on to. Not to mention the help it was when going down later on. However, when we got there, three couples were on their way down, obviously also some over nighters. One of them without shoes and the girls in lighter sneakers than what you might recommend. They were struggling though, so fair enough. A bunch of people in Havaianas, and one guy running up and down the mountain (50 minutes one way on a good day…only 52 minutes that day), later - the last edge of wilderness feeling was pretty much blunted off.
Either way, our two-hour hike to the summit was well worth the effort. When we got out of the jungle part about half way up, a stunning view met us. Barra de Tijuca, all of Rio with the mountains in the background and Pedra Dois Irmãos where you could see the hang gliders and para gliders leaping off from the edge. Absolutely gorgeous.

I’m also getting more and more convinced that I need to get one of these neon full-body training outfits…they seem to work also for hiking.

6/2 – Honey, I shrunk the kids.

Woke up this morning and thought for a split second that I was part of that film. Had a quick look around and noticed that the interior of my flat seemed to be pretty much the same size as when I went to bed. Thus, I had to conclude that it was the bug that was huge, and not me being shrunk by a mad scientist overnight. The biggest cockroach I’ve ever seen had decided to move into my bathroom, how nice with a pet as company, almost as big as a puppy, but less furry. Having heard stories about 130 kg men standing on such creatures without it bothering the bug a single bit, I decided to stick to the true girly solution to the invasion (and yes mum, I know your view on my spider handling techniques). Keep a close eye on the cockroach, continue to do what you were supposed to do and get out of the flat as quickly as possible. Oh…and take a photo of it, to save the time of looking up the Portuguese name for cockroach before getting out of the door. Politely showed the guy at the front desk the picture and then left for my hiking trip with a promise that my flat would be sprayed (probably with some efficient stuff that’s been prohibited in Europe for the last 20 years) as soon as the maintenance staff got on shift. Back home again I can’t see or smell any trace of bugs or pesticides, so I’ll just pretend like nothing ever happened I think. And hey, if I survived having tarantulas hanging over my head when going to the bathroom shack and Eastern Browns lurking under the houses nearby our tents, when going water skiing in the New South Wales rice fields, I’m sure a cockroach or two would be quite nice company in comparison.

On request...brilliant quality...

Carnaval 2010 photos

14 February - Sambodromo







13 February - Ipanema

February 2010 photos