We’ve been having some great weather in Rio recently. I felt I should mention it to balance things up because I do like to complain when it’s bad. We decided to spend Saturday on the beach and I finally got round to recording a little audio. When I got home I realised it was pretty terrible quality, so instead of subjecting you to some fuzzy noise, I decided to get a little multimedia on your asses and put the sound of the beach in the background to this rather sweet little scene I witnessed:
I’m not great with names. When I’m being introduced to someone new, I’m usually thinking about whether to shake hands or do the kissing thing or a million other things are rushing around in my head. I never think of committing their name to memory until it’s too late. This weakness is only compounded by the fact that many of the names used here in Brazil seem quite similar to me. Fabio, Fabia, Flavio, Flavia, Fabricio, Fernando, Fernanda, Anna Maria, Anna Luiza, Maria Luiza – you see my point?
But the name that seems to come up more than any other is Luiza. We went to a graduation party a little way out of town on Saturday night and out of the 10 people in the minibus, 3 of them were called Luiza. I don’t want this to sound like I’m knocking the name – as a matter of fact I like it and before I get into trouble I would like to state categorically that I like everyone I know with this delightful name.
But in the last week or so, something weird has been going on. It seems like everyone has been talking about Luiza. But they never seem to mention her surname. And the only thing they’ve been saying about Luiza is that she is in Canada. Huh?
Gerardo Rabello - the man responsible for all this Luiza talk. I believe that the picture next to him is of Luiza, que está no Canadá...
https://eatrio.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/eat-rio-logo.png00tomlemeshttps://eatrio.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/eat-rio-logo.pngtomlemes2012-01-23 12:06:242012-01-23 12:08:03Who is Luiza and why is everyone saying that she is in Canada?
Rio gets pretty hot this time of year. If you pop out for lunch around 12.30 you may find that your favourite restaurant, which is 10 minutes walk away, will suddenly not seem so alluring. Ten minutes walk in 38°C (100F) heat? Maybe you should just grab some rice and beans from the crappy Kilo restaurant next to work.
50°C (122°F)? Really? Like most visitors (and locals too, I suspect) I enjoy quoting these signs when telling people how hot it is in Rio. But seriously, I saw one once which said 54 and it was no more than 35. I suspect these are sun-assisted temperatures, rather than in-the-shade temperatures that are more conventionally used.
I know what you’re thinking – 38 degrees isn’t that bad – it was as hot as that when I was in [Torremolinos/Death Valley/Timbuktu] last year for my holidays. OK tough guy, but were you wearing a full business suit at the time? Yeah, didn’t think so!
https://eatrio.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/eat-rio-logo.png00tomlemeshttps://eatrio.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/eat-rio-logo.pngtomlemes2012-01-19 15:36:352025-06-14 19:53:47Lawyers in Flip-flops!
Regular Eat Rio readers will know that I have a bit of a bus obsession. It’s a cheap way to get around town and entertainment (in the form of people watching) is never far away. I’ve collected my favourite bus adventures/stories in a single post from way back. Well this morning I witnessed some more extraordinary behaviour – I was a little late on my way to work, so the bus was fairly empty, but there was a girl sitting on her own in the seat in front of me.
I got myself settled down and comfortable and then glanced up to witness the most extraordinary behaviour.
She was hair twirling, though I think perhaps there should be some other name for it when you attain this level of skill and complexity.
https://eatrio.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/eat-rio-logo.png00tomlemeshttps://eatrio.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/eat-rio-logo.pngtomlemes2012-01-11 12:44:222013-03-02 14:49:05Bizarre Bus Behaviour
I’ve had some interesting insect encounters recently. A couple of days ago, a barata (cockroach) flew in threw an open window and started running around our house. I found this pretty distressing as I have a deep-seated fear of cockroaches anyway – the realisation that they can fly in at any moment was not a happy one. Then, last night, a cigarra (cicada) flew in. Cicadas are those things you hear chirruping or buzzing in trees at night and, for your information, they are the size of a small bird. It went careering around the living room making a freaky clicking noise as it smashed into the floor, ceiling, walls, lights. It was exciting, but not in a good way (I am using that famous British trait of extreme understatement there).
I have no problem with these guys in the same way that I have no problem with say, helicopters. As long as they stay out of my house, they’re alright by me.
In most circumstances, when one of these beasts comes into our house, I invite my Brazilian wife to deal with them (I usually make this invitation whilst shrieking like a frightened child from the room furthest from our uninvited guest). The way I see it, they are native to her country and so she is naturally best-placed to deal with them. To me they are like terrifying aliens. If we ever move to England, I will be more than happy to return the favour and deal with any hedgehogs, badgers or harvestmice that wander in.
The wild animals of Britain. Terrifying aren’t they? Nonetheless, if necessary I will step up and bravely escort them from the premises.
