30/4 – Bonfires swapped for Brazilian Canoe Polo.

Once again, I’ll miss being in my hometown on last of April, it’s always a good day to be in the city of Carl von Linné. Even though I probably haven’t had a traditional Uppsala style Valborg since 2000, it still feels like that’s the way it should be celebrated. With dear friends of course, lots of champagne and beer, watching the students, first fight with their rafts in the freezing river and then run down Carolinabacken while waving their hats. The first BBQ of the year should also be planned for this evening and don’t forget the not-putting-on-enough-clothes-because-you-think-it-should-be-summer factor for the day. That’s part of the deal, to be cold most of the day, and spend the following week sneezing with a runny nose and sore throat. If you’re hard-core, you’ll sign up for a 1 May dinner party with at least a seven courses set-up and the longest speeches of the year at one of the student pubs for the day after. We did well back in 2000, Pontus!
Instead I’ve made my way to Londrina tonight. A city, which I know nothing about, some 800 km from here or so in the state of Parana. Sort of go towards São Paulo and keep on going westwards from there, and you should get within the near vicinity of the city. The information I’ve got about the place so far, stretches to that it’s only four hours away from Paraguay, and therefore possible to drive across the boarder to buy some cheap(er) electronics. Not planning to go shopping, but hopefully, I’ll get to experience some South American canoe polo. My strongest perception of the Brazilian version of the sport is from 2002, where the Brazilian players kindly laughed at the Swedish teams when we were off loading our (not so) brilliant Gecko boats in Essen. During the rest of that tournament, there weren’t many quiet moments around the samba players. Not only had they brought their canoe polo gear, but also the drums and the singing and dancing spirit. For sure, I wouldn’t mind some of that this weekend.

In other words, no Valborg, bonfires, forsränning, champagne breakfast, white student hats, fireworks or even a Koninginnedag in orange today. Have to aim for a proper Midsummer weekend this year instead, which would be the first time since 2000 as well if I manage.

27/4 – Rio Driving #5 – I want a Hilux.

Kitesurfing on Sunday afternoons in Arubinha can be just great. Mainly depending on the wind of course, but also since there’s normally not that many people there as on Saturdays. And why aren’t they there? Traffic! The way back to Rio on Sunday nights could take anything from the optimistic 2.5 hrs to 5, 6 or even 7 hrs. A while back, it could have taken longer than ever, if it wasn’t for the creative, Schumacher wannabe driver behind the wheel. Thanks to him, who’d been guiding us along the narrow roads through the country side at speeds close to the one of light most of the day, we were moving a lot quicker than most of the other people on their way back to Rio - on the shoulder. Don’t ask me what traffic regulations in Brazil say…I don’t know, but can of course assume.
We thought we were doing quite well out on the shoulder, passing one car after another, until we were stuck in a que on the shoulder as well. Too many creative drivers out apparently. The three-lane motorway had turned into a four-lane que-way. Oh sorry, a five-lane way as a white Hilux (Here the very nice car appears again, and no, I’m not getting paid to say this so Skatteverket bring it on.) suddenly passed us on our right hand side…in the ditch. Pays off to have a 4WD every now and then.

24/4 – Vinkevink to paragliders and finally a quiet spot.

Not far from Ipanema, and before getting to the Americanised Barra de Tijuca, you can turn right and drive up to Pedra Bonita. Mainly known for the paragliding ramp almost at the top and the nice view of Pedra da Gávea you will get from up there. From the ramp area and parking lot, there’s a nice little walk up to the summit, which I joined a few Norwegian friends and their children for a couple of weeks ago.

After some 30-40 minutes hike through the rain forest, we found ourselves in the clouds. It was totally white and nothing to be seen beyond the edge of the cliff. But suddenly the clouds clear for a second, and the beach glisters in the sun way down there. And it’s gone again. Then Pedra da Gávea plays peekaboo for a while until the highlight of the view appears - a paraglider, who’s been using the thermals properly, appears not far from us through the clouds.

When being accompanied by three children within the age of two to four and a half (That half year is very important, so want to stress that it’s four and a half years and not four.) you won’t have a quiet second. The stories range from the total truth, where the father at times sounds like he’s choked on something, and impressively imaginary explanations and theories. Strangely enough we didn’t see any jungle hens on the way up, only the odd tiny lizards. Would also be quite interesting to construct a hike like the one up to Pedra Bonita with the same proportions for an adult as it has for a four and a half year old. Doubt that any semi-fit person would last very long with steps high as up to the middle of your thighs for that many minutes. But our little Norwegian fjellpanter did, without any worries whatsoever.

Yesterday, I found the most quiet spot in the city so far - the botanical garden, Jardim Botânico. It’s like a secret hideaway, bordering to busy streets and both the posh Gávea and Leblon, as well as to the favelas nearby. Palm trees, massive other trees (which I don’t have a clue what they are and can’t remember what the signs said), cactuses and orchids and just nice and quiet. Hardly the helicopters are to be heard beneath the green cover of the trees. Must be even nicer during spring and summer when the roses bring some colour to the place. Should probably have chosen some other footwear than Havaianas though, three hours of walking proved that my feet are not totally adapted to the Brazilian lifestyle - yet.