Take me down to Parati City where the grass is green and the girls are pretty.....

In Vitamin E moisturiser related news there have been some further developments. After Tay discovered an unsightly chest rash and Jodie experienced a mild allergic reaction on her arm, the ma-husive tubs of body cream were unceremoniously ditched and replaced by Nivea, a more reputable brand.

We arrived at our guest house Pousada Aquilara (as in Christina) overjoyed to find it was a mini paradise that resembled a tropical Sandals getaway, complete with pool, air conditioning and private rooms. As if these luxuries weren´t jammy enough, we were soon introduced to the resident baby, Felippe and the two pet sausage dogs, Teca and Preta. The hostel was run by a permanently stoned Brazilian called Emerson who loves a good chat but unfortunately takes ten minutes per sentence to get anything out- which is great unless you have a bus or boat to catch. He also enjoyed translating everything he said in each of the 5 languages that he speaks, so you can imagine the repetition involved. That said we completely fell in love with his stoner charms.

Baby Philippe....aaaaahhhh

Heartbreak kid

That evening we met our fellow Pousada guests who were also cooling off in the pool. There was Scottish Darren (later to be known as ´Big D´ or ´BDizzle`) and his fiancee Nicola, Aussies Sam and Sally, and the two Swedes Thomas and Johanna. In fact everyone staying at the hostel was in a couple and it seemed our little threesome situation had lead to some speculation leading Darren to later quiz Jodie on the sly on ´who was with who´. We think they suspected some weird Mormon shit was going down and that maybe we had the room by the hour.

ABBA?

On Day 2 we embarked on a group trip to the beach in the late afternoon. After a hell-raising bus journey we reacjed a cove worthy of a Bounty advert. We played in the sea, drank beer as the sun set and then covered in sand, hopped back on the bus. This is where things got interesting as the bus lurched and screeched round corners, putting the Oblivion ride at Alton Towers to shame. The locals played up to it with wooping and cheering, which only encouraged the driver further, and by the time we disembarked his ego must have been so inflated that he fancied himself as some kind of Formula 1 God; a Brazilian Jenson Button. That night our attempt at saving money by staying in and having a supermarket-bought dinner, was about as successful as Kerry Katona resisting a doner kebab. Teca, the James Bond of sausage dogs managed to create a distraction at the front door causing us to go and investigate. While our backs were turned she used her quick stumpy little legs to launch herself up onto the dinner table and get her long lizard-tongue all up in our cream cheese. Being the main component of our dinner we did try to salvage it, but she had nailed almost the whole pot. We ate dry crackers instead. Note to selves- always just eat out in future.

All sausage, and no legs

Teca the cheese stealer

On Day 3 we joined our new found bum chums on a boat trip to four nearby islands. The soundtrack to the day trip was courtesy of the boats musician- Brazils answer to Enrique Inglesias, crooning away on the Spanish guitar. The best thing about his set was when he assisted the boat staff by mixing lunch order announcements into his songs. So inbetween the soft Portugese love melodies he would sneak in a few off-key food related shout outs "Number 11, your chicken nuggets are ready...oooooh yeah baby girl, lets make some luuuuurve.....come on number 11, your chicken nuggets are ready, where are you.......ooooh girl, do it good, oh yeah......chicken nuggets! number 11!.........oh yeah baby, its love time......please number 11 come to the front of the boat and get your chicken nuggets...yeah yeah yeah"

Parati Pier

At each island we were given 40 minutes to jump in the water and practise our diving techniques. The cocky boys were all too eager to show off their Mitch Buchanan-esque dives from the top deck. The girls were a little more reluctant until Jodes stepped up to the plate and took one for the team, taking the heat off the rest of the girls who were quite frankly, too chicken. Each person brave enough to tackle the top deck dive was rewarded with a nationality based theme tune. The Swedes got ABBA, obviously (yeah yeah, you just try and think of another Swedish band.......we had tried Barbie girl, but apparently Aqua were from Denmark) Scottish Darren got the Proclaimers ´500 miles´, Jodes got Catatonia (you know, the Mulder and Scully song) and Robbi got nothing Italian but instead was lumbered with Mysterious Girl by Peter Andre, more to do with his slick rick haircut than anything else.

Peter Andre doing a dive

Ilha Grande which was going to be our next destination was all booked up so we decided just to extend our stay in Paraty by 3 more nights. On Day 4 we amused ourselves with an impromptu and uber-camp water aerobics session, taking it in turns to instruct the class. Moves included a Beyonce style bum shake, an 80s grapevine and the running man (fyi, a wedgie danger zone) We got a taste for the pool-based fitness so moved on to the ultimate challenge- a human pyramid.

Water Aerobics

So much activity built up our appetite and we made a beeline for a recommended seafood restaurant where we nailed a delicious fish and rice number. There had been rumours flying around about a per-kilo ice cream parlour in the area, and the per kilo concept being our new best friend, we thought it would only be polite to go and stuff our faces. It turned out to be the Willy Wonka of ice cream parlours with rows upon rows of different flavours, an array of sauces and loads of tubs full of sexy toppings. Unable to keep our cool we became embarrassingly over excited and in a fluster, Tay hastlily mis-translated a couple of the flavours leading to a rogue scoop of coconut in the mix which was very disappointing.

Dinner with the crew

The next day we had goodbye drinks with Nicola and B-Dizzle who were leaving the next day. Caiprinhas are renowned for being really lethal, and we experienced this first hand when after just two, we were laughing uncontrollably over a moob-tastic photo of Darren and then couldn´t quite walk straight on the way home. After an emotional goodbye in the morning, we spend the day lounging while the weather was cloudy. Even the eruption of a huge tropical thunderstorm couldn´t keep us from our favourite ice cream parlour and we ran through torrential rain to its marshmallowey chocolatey bosom.

Next stop....Iguazu Falls, Argentina

Celebrity Love Island

Take me down to Parati City where the grass is green and the girls are pretty.....

Parati, Brazil