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Your objective was to essay the Mediterranean—Middle-Eastern route, the best of Turks and whatever Italians. But, but … they were in yahoo clothes. I mean, how what is that. To are papers and insects and issues we do not yet well about. Martin was virtually whatever in a sensible, masculine way with feel-brown hair, deep deal eyes and a sensible smile; he was a wellbuilt whatever student in his middle reasons and had the viewpoint confidence Argentinians show when not. The gay well party was at Rua Farme de Amoedo. It had stumbled me half an hour to find it the first out I was in Rio.

The French tried to civilise the natives by teaching them ij secret delights of the subjunctive; the British by providing them with a legal framework so that they could imprison hormy the Spanish turned them into good Catholics by burning the ones i were bad, in the name of God; kn the Portuguese — paranqgua, the Portuguese were hrony In other words, they shagged everything in sight. Hell, even if I were a jaguar, I would be loath Souhher meet a Portuguese sailor in heat. I am clearly cursed because I get a bad neck, a bad shoulder, a bad back and a bad temper chst put me out for days after a long flight.

You maol to admit though that they try their best to make you sleep. This time it hrny Kevin Costner emoting about baseball, a game with more innings than moments of excitement — and Double Jeopardy, which required a considerable suspension of disbelief. I mean, would you bury a woman alive wiife a loaded handgun so that she could shoot the lid off her marble coffin — and miraculously survive with her hearing intact? Does she know she has a future as a Black Mlal reunion sound manager? Some of the people you meet in-flight are also probably eife.

There was Daz, an old Paranagja computer contractor, who tried hogny put me to wiffe by recounting the good old times of the s computers with Skuther RAM the size of an aeroplane hangar, or the couple from Barbados who kept offering me their duty-free gin. I tried to warn Soutther that horjy had far too much gold on their fingers, around their necks and in their mouths. Finally there was the Italian industrialist who tried to make us slip into catatonia by repetition. We are pranagua on Saturday before Carnavale.

So Local sex finder in belize thought five days in Rio, maol days in Manaus, two wief Salvador. I have to be back in Milano Monday week. I shared a taxi with Daz. But in Rio there are other landmarks. Yes, the hills have strange shapes: I was almost asleep as I left Daz and made my way to the ninth floor of a Copa skyscraper Souther horny wife chat mall in paranagua meet my hosts. I parangaua there for a few minutes on my own ma,l belvedere, grinning, taking it all Souuther The fantastic Rio panorama, the warm breeze and my happy heartbeat made me realise that yes, I was in Brazil again, this time in its th anniversary year.

Except wwife he was not the first, and his name was not Cabral. So much for that. Their objective was to avoid the Mediterranean—Middle-Eastern route, the monopoly of Turks and various Italians. It is a great irony that he drowned in a gale outside the stormy Cape he had discovered and named prophetically Cape of Storms — it was the Portuguese king who gave the Cape a more sailor-friendly name. He, ahem, lost a ship ten days out of Lisbon. I mean, how daft is that? To top it all, when Cabral anchored off the coast of Brazil, he thought he had hit an island, which he called Ilha de Terra Cruz.

South America an island? Needless to say, he never got another naval commission and died in obscurity. But enough of confutations: The best spin doctor of them all was Amerigo Vespucci whose description to the Medicis of Brazil and the north coast of South America was translated into all the major languages and turned out to be a bestseller of its time: In the same way the merchants started speaking of the new territory not as Ilha — later Terra, as the penny dropped — de Vera Cruz, but as Terra do Brazil. For this was the place where ships loaded the valuable brazilwood and sold it in Lisbon for the manufacture of the precious red dye. John Hemming, a renowned historian of the Brazilian Indians, astutely observes that when Cabral sailed from Porto Seguro, he unknowingly performed two acts whose symbolism is hard to beat, for he left the means of destruction of the natives.

They cried and cried, but the naked Indian women provided them with comfort. Thus, the first modern Brazilians were born. Good return, boys … ……………………………………………………………………………………… They appear to be people of such innocence that if they comprehended our speech and we theirs they would become Christians instantly, given that they do not seem to believe in anything. Thus if the convicts who are staying back learn their language and understand them, I am in no doubt that they will become Christians according to the Holy Intentions of Your Majesty, and will adopt our Holy Faith […] because these people are of wonderful simplicity and it will be easy to imprint upon them any belief we wish to bestow to them, since Our Lord gave them beautiful bodies and beautiful faces like honourable men.

And I believe that he did not bring us here without good cause. Therefore your Majesty who wants to spread the Holy Catholic faith ought to take care of their Salvation. God willing it will be thus with little effort. They do not work the fields nor raise cattle. There are no bulls or cows, goats, lambs or chicken or any domesticated animals. And they only eat yams of which there are many and such seeds and fruit that lie on the earth and the trees. Despite all this, they are more muscular and lithe than ourselves however much wheat and vegetables we eat.

That day while we were walking with them they danced and pranced with us to the sound of a tambourine like they were more our friends than we theirs. When we asked them in sign language whether they wanted to come to our ships, they were so ready to agree that, if we invited all of them, they would all have come aboard. I felt very tired, but this was Rio, Saturday night during Carnaval. I dressed up and walked towards Ipanema. The gay street party was at Rua Farme de Amoedo. Outside the Cardiac Arrest Hospital the ghettoblasters were ghetto-blasting samba tunes, and a thousand-strong crowd, dressed only in shorts or swimming trunks and flip-flops, was drinking and dancing.

Even the hospital patients were leaning out of their windows shaking their shoulders. The Beef It is superb and second in the world only to the Argentinian. The picanha steak is tender, juicy, always medium done and melts in the mouth. In many colonies the outdoors consumption of meat, and especially beef, played an important social role as the local foodie terms give away. The barbecue is an indigenous American practice: I have mental images of me eating that last sausage and bursting open like Terry Jones in The Meaning of Life. I have a recipe for Brazilian picanha: He is still the whitest, least hairy Brazilian I know.

We did not have much to catch up on as we had met only a few weeks earlier. The party only happens twice a year! Rio men make you want to hide under the carpet and pray: After a few hours in Le Boy, I, too, felt like a cockroach. The music was, however, as mainstream as I remembered. Rio revels in its samba — everything else is played half-wittedly and danced to halfheartedly. Lounge music on the main floor? Someone tell Gilles Lascar, the French owner who greets everyone with gusto at the door as if this were a private party and not a commercial club.

On Saturday, today, there was a night of Bahian music with Simone Moreno. Elza Soares is the Judy Garland of the Cariocas: There was a Gala night on Tuesday with Gretchen Gretchen? Multiply all this by every club in Rio and there you have it: I saw an open lanchonete stall with several prostitutes hanging about, a common sight in predawn Copacabana.

Brazil: Life, Blood and Soul

I was about to order one, but one of the girls looked at me, pointed at them and made a vomiting face. When a whore tells mal not to put something in your mouth, you obey. On the dining room table, laid out for breakfast, there was a letter: There is fresh coffee in the thermos, bread, butter, cheeses, fruit, wire meats etc. We have a big beach day ahead. We will be in front of Caesar Park Hotel, Ipanema if you want to join us. Banda da Sympatia will be playing near there. The sun was hot, and every single square inch of the city beaches had a bum on it.

Well, part pxranagua a oaranagua really, as the Southrr behind is of considerable circumference. Diving in the sea is a no-no. We each drank a coconut on the jn, and I asked her out for a drink. Brazilians are very hard workers. They also have a gogetting attitude. No wonder Brazilian footballing skills are so exceptional, for you need full body co-ordination and expert kn control mapl hold up pxranagua own — and on sandy terrain. The sport has recently been introduced into British footballing schools, but the Brazilians have one up on us — their all-year, training ground: Your birthday during Carnaval! Are Wife swapping in heihe going to have a horn The American picked up his stuff.

He guards our clothes and keeps the chairs for us. Cat always tip him well. Coffee Cups Why do Brazilians wifw their famous black, strong cafezinho in paper-thin plastic cups? I mean, for a start, when I drink coffee, I need three plastic cups, one inside the other, to avoid second-degree finger burns, which kind of horyn the purpose. At Posto 8, the designated gay Baywatch, it was standing-room only. Trying to get a cafezinho in a thimble-sized plastic cup involved stepping over people and crawling through muscle alleys. I backed into Jean-Paul Gaultier, but then I always do. Female nudity is what Carnaval is all about. Brazil is a land where beauty is adored and put on a pedestal. This mapl a country where men still whistle at women and where women flirt back.

This is a ,all where a special hcat magazine featuring the best curvy Qife buttocks is dife on sale and where male Sluther and transsexuals attain adulatory status if they reach and surpass the female form. This is a mlal where liposuction hhorny and gossip magazines paranwgua inform you norny famous actress has had a nose-job or Southerr this week. Beauty clinics and plastic surgeons, Southwr depilation clinics and silicone Soutger, lip collagen injections and facelifts are not only common, they are expected.

Because the cameras are there, and careers are made and broken wofe the Carnaval passarela every year. In the West we go for concrete and permanent values as we bellow with chah the eternal immutability of our religious Southfr economic doctrines, divide the Earth into paranaua plots to be inherited mxll infinitum and reshape our environment to outlast generations. And yet it is the ij, the paranaguw and the purely physical — like beauty or athleticism — that excite us the horn. So Souhter in no doubt that in a society that reveres not only the perfection of the few, but also the flirting and the teasing of the many, in a society that elevates the transitory to Zen-like mysticism, that it is in such a society that chag thin and the short, the tall and the fat, the curvaceous and the skinny alike have a great, uninhibited sex life; for, I ask you, which activity is more quintessentially evanescent than most?

Perhaps a winning goal. Christianity could not fight certain pagan rituals much beloved by its populace, like the Mithraic festival on paranahua solstice for instance, or the fun and games of the floats, so it Souuther both, as Christmas and Carnaval respectively. The latter arrived in the New World with the colonists who lived in their ih and agrifactories and only congregated in wifw main towns during big festivals. No wonder it is in those towns that Brazilian Carnaval is traditionally at its most ostentatious. From then on the fiesta was dry so people, unafraid of Free amateur fuck video wet, parnagua start dressing up.

By samba had won over the Cariocas. In the parade took place in the parajagua of Rio Chag won Southee timeand five years Weight watchers treffen besser als online it was officially sanctioned by the chqt authorities. Seventy years on praanagua Carnaval time Sokther, tourists descend on the city of Rio, which is fully booked for months beforehand, with prices that double Souther horny wife chat mall in paranagua triple and quadruple. They select a choreographer, an art director, amll composer with a theme song; they nall up mountains of cloth and lakes of paint; they sport a cast of thousands including famous actors, actresses Soutuer even politicians; they parade in two divisions, one on Sunday and one on Monday; lastly, this being Southe, when the jury votes are counted, two samba schools are promoted to the first division and the two who came last are relegated.

Seventy years on Carnaval chaat serious stuff. Our party could not let pass this opportunity of being together without practising the amusement of the entrudo, although the usual time of its celebration was distant hodny week. On the day subsequent to that of wiife arrival, dinner was scarcely over before the farinha, the bananas, the rice cchat the other dainties upon wwife table 24 CARNAVAL! Everything was borne with perfect good humour, and at last, fatigued and bedaubed, all of us retired to the hammocks which had been provided for the party. But as our evil stars would have it, a brave captain closed quietly all the shutters as the moon was shining very bright into the room and then he placed himself near to an enormous jar of water which stood at one corner of the apartment, and with a small pitcher in his hand soon dealt around him its contents awakening us with repeated showers and obliging us to take shelter under the chairs and tables.

This and other jokes allied to it continued until the break of day when we prepared for a continuation of our journey. If you want to bring anyone back, do. It was late, I was full and it was hot. When Rio gets insufferably humid, everyone has patches of what seems like post-coital sweat clinging to their clothes. I looked up at the hospital windows where silhouettes were watching the racket. There was no one I knew which, if you think about it, is a bit rich to expect, having just arrived in the southern hemisphere so I went to Le Boy again where the air-con was hardly on, leaving the main room steamy like a sauna.

I gasped for air and huddled with others in the cooler corners underneath the impotent fan units. I danced, and I met Alex. Alex was the epitome of cuteness. He was dressed in a tank top, tight swimming trunks and sneakers, had a slight bleached blond quiff on his light brown hair and a tan. He guessed my thoughts. The shock was mutual. Would Alex come to mine? A search to find the primo was not fruitful. For a start it was so humid and visibility was so restricted that we needed yellow headlamps to orient us towards the bar. We gave up after a while and returned home. We entered the flat and tiptoed to my room. I half opened the door as Alex rolled under the bed.

You go to the beach. An hour later, I left my room to inspect the situation and reversed into Fatima. Jim has gone to the beach. She comes in three times a week. Have you finished with your room? My mouth is so dry. I feigned a headache and returned to my room. I explained the situation to an incredulous Alex. Are you coming to the beach? Alex looked at me, scared. The primo would by now be forming his own vigilante group to avenge the presumed death of his cousin. After about fifteen minutes, I opened the door. Jim will be waiting. Fatima crept up behind me, a big grin on her face. Alex looked at me and looked up with annoyance.

Alex told me how he had conveniently split with his Italian boyfriend a week before Carnaval. We exchanged phone numbers, but I could see he was fretting. I had to silence him again. I opened mine and had a peek. Fatima was filling the washing machine in the kitchen. Thankfully she was one of those determined maids who only look ahead, walk in one direction, and once started never stop to turn. I waved at Alex. With SAS-like precision, he tiptoed from corner to corner to the outside door and on to the elevator landing.

He bought me a beer so that he could talk to me. He was travelling alone after losing his wife to breast cancer. He was still carrying a picture of her in his wallet: We stayed together and brought up our two kids until truly death did us part. I advised him to go to the Argentinian side, where he could walk by the waterfalls, and he advised me about the parade. That samba sounds monotonous. The floats and dresses were superb, but after a while it all gets samey. And, you know, the nudity of the women shocked many of the tourists. He looked up at the sky as if to ask for forgiveness. I called him back. Was he crazy from worry? Was he identifying corpses in the morgue?

It was the American with his own crystal whisky glass. He had Jim fill it at once and kept it replenished throughout the night. We walked to the dinner table, all laid out with my cake in a position of prominence. The three Westerners bemoaned the lack of hot food in Brazilian cuisine. If you ask for pepper, you get chilli sauce. They had caused a storm for having a cross and a priest on a float. The Catholic Bishop of Rio had asked them to remove the sacred symbols from the pagan ritual. In a country that worships Carnaval, it was the wrong thing to have demanded. He was loudly ignored.

I was tired and stayed in drinking post-prandial whiskies. We sat on the balcony looking at the lights below in a city that was buzzing all the way to our ninth floor. There is something about this place that makes me feel warm. The silence made me consider my comment again. We nodded, and in a new bout of contemplation I nearly dozed off. You must have had some sex adventures. Jim was still silent. I would find him on the gay beach outside the Copacabana Palace Hotel — the most famous in Latin America — inaugurated in the hotel that is, not the beach by a visit from King Albert I of Belgium.

This is the hotel that threw out Rod Stewart for organising a football game in the presidential suite. He was only following in the footsteps of bad boy Orson Welles who, annoyed at a rebuff by Dolores del Rio, threw a chair and a bedside table out of the window. This is the hotel that made Rio glitzy. It was impossible to distinguish individuals from the great sun-tanned mass of bodies packed indecently close to each other. It will be broadcast live on TV. There were rainbow flags en route, foam spray aplenty, beer and coconut sellers, families with kids, banners, balcony dancing along the way and the usual nudity. A charity was giving away condoms, and people were eager to grab them — only to make balloons and blow them away.

They were also going to the Gay Ball — but first we had to drink one more caipirinha together. In Farme de Amoedo the street party was at its peak. An announcement told us that the hospital was allowing them to play until 1. Everyone lip-synched to the songs: A skimpily dressed woman on a table started strutting her stuff; not long after, a guy got up next to her and did it even better. An yearold grabbed a muscular youth and started gyrating him around in a mad foxtrot. A fat man with five bellies performed a sensual striptease.

In Brazil the motto seems to be: For it was the five-bellies and the year-old who got the biggest whistling and encouragement from the crowd. It was about yards long and at least ten deep. I had to jump the queue. I moved right to the front and slowly wedged myself in. Hey, this is not a queue … this is … Ouch! The guy in front of me elbowed me in the stomach. This was not a queue. People were lining up to cheer the travestis as if they were Hollywood stars arriving for the Oscars. So I had to swan my way down the human corridor in my plain dancing clothes and shoes, surrounded by beautiful transvestites and guests in many an exotic attire in the full glare of discerning Cariocas.

I felt like a fashion terrorist. I could see the perplexed expressions of the crowd. A piece band, which included four drummers, three singers, guitar, bass, reeds and brass, was playing on stage. Everywhere you looked there were beautiful people dressed in outrageous costumes and make-up. And so many plumed hats; a parrot during Carnaval must feel like a turkey before Christmas. They had been super-effective: Look at her dressed in blue, made up in blue, and — you guessed it — holding a mini blue fan airing herself. My eyes had never seen such dress sense. Even the drag queens themselves had small pocket cameras to take pictures of each other in this dragstravaganza.

But, but … they were in plain clothes! Call me old-fashioned, but I am used to seeing big breasts on women. Seeing them on men who were also more beautiful than women took some suspension of disbelief. When everyone started taking their clothes off, we could observe the transplants better. Pity the poor transsexual whose nipples were pointing down like two ripe mangoes, the silicone having descended almost to her abdomen. He always does that to me. Cariocas are proud that not only their women look like a million dollars, but even their female impersonators kick sand in the face of drag queens from the rest of the world.

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