Last weekend in Rio has passed, and also the last chance for some kite surfing for this time. For once the prognosis looked really good (i.e. pretty bad if it would have been January, but with the new winter reference system this turns into really good on the scale), so 6:50 am Sunday morning we were off. This time to Buzios and Praia Rasa instead of the normal Arubinha and hopefully to play it a bit safer with the expected northerlies, than what Lagoa de Araruama would offer. What can I say though, the wind was better than the last few times we’ve been trying...but not enough. With enough working the kite it was almost descent at times, and of course a good experience with some waves. Interesting full stops, with following face plants, at times when the waves broke on the board before picking up enough speed. At least we tried though, and as always when leaving your flat in Brazil you see something you didn’t really expect to see. It could be anything from dads pretending they’re young still to plastic housewives in neon creations or hiking teenagers in Havaianas. The highlight of Sunday in that category was probably this kid on his fairly new bike. Not satisfied with just biking on the beach, which would probably ruin the bike quick enough, but biking in the water. With waves reaching half way up to the saddle he was pedalling along quite happily while the rest of his family was walking further up on the sand. Something tells me that, whoever likes to cover his bike with sandy salt water, probably won’t be the same person who’ll remember to rinse it when he gets home.
My last weekend in Rio was finished off with an authentic Indian dinner at a colleague of mine. To my great relief, his wife had cut down on the spices for the evening, to make sure also a Scandinavian blonde could handle it, and it was absolutely delicious – all of it. Could easily have rolled all the way down the hill, along the beach and home to my place, after the last piece of an amazing desert. Thanks so much Sunita and Deep, I will try to think of something Swedish for in a few months time.
Made a quick stop at my favourite bookshop tonight to sort out a gift for a near and dear one (won’t mention who the book was for, in case Kristofer reads this). After a few minutes of looking for the piece I had in mind, I found myself singing along to the background music inside my head. Took a while before I registered the weird thing about it, not very often I can sing along with any music in this country. But for the first time in Brazil, I heard Swedish music – in Swedish, streaming out from the speakers in the shop. Must be a sign – time to go home.
My last weekend in Rio was finished off with an authentic Indian dinner at a colleague of mine. To my great relief, his wife had cut down on the spices for the evening, to make sure also a Scandinavian blonde could handle it, and it was absolutely delicious – all of it. Could easily have rolled all the way down the hill, along the beach and home to my place, after the last piece of an amazing desert. Thanks so much Sunita and Deep, I will try to think of something Swedish for in a few months time.
Made a quick stop at my favourite bookshop tonight to sort out a gift for a near and dear one (won’t mention who the book was for, in case Kristofer reads this). After a few minutes of looking for the piece I had in mind, I found myself singing along to the background music inside my head. Took a while before I registered the weird thing about it, not very often I can sing along with any music in this country. But for the first time in Brazil, I heard Swedish music – in Swedish, streaming out from the speakers in the shop. Must be a sign – time to go home.
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