The sun is hot, the temperature is a pleasant mid-20’s in the shade, all kinds of tropical birds are providing the tree-top soundscape (doing their best, but failing only just to drown out the enormous motorway that slices down edge of the park). The trees themselves are lshedding their leaves, and the sickly sweet scent of spring blossoms waft in and out of ones consciousness.
This, dear reader, is winter in Sao Paolo, specifically Ibirapuera Parque, where I have retired after my long journey here to laze away the jetlag in the shade and tap away at my keyboard as the inspiration takes me.
I think I could cope with winters like this.
Novel things I’ve enjoyed so far:
1) that the bing-bong in the airport is no a chime bar or electronic bleep, but a steel pan. Bring on carnival
2) that in the supermarkets, the melons are laid out on racks I can only compare to coconut shies, and
3) the business man sitting on a deck chair near me, barking orders down his mobile, and with briefcase open beside him, but wearing only speedos.
4) it’s raining leaves. I don’t mean the leaves are falling - I’m actually being attacked!
Things that are reassuringly familiar
1) the morning commuters - I really had to barge my way onto that third metro train that came along. Enough with the queue jumping. (thanks are due to the lady who squidged my rucksack in so that the doors would close)
2) the traffic - except I think it could be even worse than London. My bus left the airport at 6.40am and it was already jammed up by then. Ahhh sweet smog
3) swine flu. Just because I’ve sneezed does not mean you have to give me a dirty look.or tighten your face mask.
4) finishing this blog in the hostel in the evening, it’s now raining….
As some of you may have already received in a text this morning, I was a little smug that despite the above, I did manage to negotiate my way from the airport to the hostel on public transport using only Portuguese and emphatic gesturing.
It was amazing flying into SP while it was still dark - I thought I’d be disappointed if the sun hadn’t yet risen, but it was this amazing network of different coloured dots of light that stretched to the horizon in all directions. And from the viewpoint of a plane, that’s pretty far. I can only liken it to the view of the borg ship from the starship enterprise - just vast vast vastness.
The hostel took some finding (not appreciated with heavy bags and very sweaty from travelling) (having a sign on the door bigger than A5 might have helped) Anyway, once there, it was great - English speaking recepcionista, towel and clean sheet handed to me, room was all ready for me to go in to, even at 8.30am, and, hallelujah, a hot shower in the room. What I hadn’t prepared for was being walked in a room that was almost pitch black, with the other residents still asleep (or trying to be) trying to work out which bunk was free, then working out all I needed for a shower, finding the door to said shower, and closing and locking it before I could turn the light on in there. I was doing so well until the last step, then I mis-jiggled the door knob, and the whole bid old heavy door went CLUNK. **sorry!** I’ll have to apologise later. After this I decided against negotiating the lockers, so all that is precious had to come out with me again. And a good deal of other crap as well as I couldn't sort out my bag. I thought it was only 10 mins walk to the park. I was wrong. Very wrong. Half an hour later…..ah well, it’s worth it. Very peaceful…. Until you get accosted by postcard sellers. Run!!
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