My last evening here was a good one: getting a little bit tipsy, playing Scrabble with two lovely American lasses, Marta and Nina. I didn’t win any games, though. I internally shuddered – like a true British English pedant – when Marta played the word “flavor” but things evened out when I managed to convince them that quim was a playable word.
The long journey begins now. I’m leaving from Punta Gorda airstrip in about an hour. And tomorrow evening, around 9pm local time, I’ll be in São Paulo; in the southern hemisphere for the first time in my life.
Sometimes it’s nice when the perfect song for the perfect moment pops up on shuffle on the iPod. I dunno why, but this one seemed to fit splendidly, as I packed the last of my clothes into my backpack, and locked the door of my room at Hickatee.
Hopefully, I’ll have a boring tale of a perfect journey to Brazil. But, being the modern world, anything that does go wrong automatically comes attached with the thought-bubble, “at least it’s something to blog about.”