carts. People wander backwards and forwards with trees of necklaces, sunglasses, T - shirts, plastic smily faces, CDs, DVDs, and well, you get the picture. And bottoms! There are more scantily clad bottoms on display, of every size and colour, than you can imagine. Bikini design is the king of diversity (despite applying very little material). And for every slim bikini there is a hunk (for the girls) in black trunks playing football (well, it is Brazil). The entire beach is circumnavigated by a well paved promenade, every hundred yards punctuated by a little hut selling all sorts of stuff (but mostly cervesa latas and their little manor of sunbeds). By the time 15 minutes have passed and we have arrived from the hotel to the main eating and drinking area, the street is littered with brightly coloured paintings (lots of yellows) on the beach side and open restaurants on the other, advertising unlimited amounts of meat for around $12 (lunch or dinner - take your choice). Add to that an external temperature of 33 degrees made bearable by a constant Atlantic breeze and the ever-present noise of the surf and you have somewhere that is, well, not boring. I might like it here (given the necessary time to be decommissioned from the control, process, robotic, etc). . . .
Monday, 3 December 2007
A word about beaches
As Andy alluded to - I am a victim of an over-controlled, process-driven, mindlessly robotic environment, now having to come to terms with a free and easier lifestyle in a completely different type of country. So, a word about . . . beaches. As predicted, this resort is a 4 km beach/bay. However. imagine most brochure beaches you have seen or experienced. Sunbeds marching in regimented linearity (two to a thatched parasol) across the white sands. It doesn`t matter where you go, uniformity is the order and the beaches have all the charm of a plastic dolls house. Not in Brazil! Our beach is a mass of happy chaos. Sunbeds are here, of course, but every half dozen owned by a different bloke on the beach. They have no order, no defining purpose. They are arranged slantwise, upside down, half in - half out of the ocean, around in party circles like protective wagon trains . . . This beach is busy. There is movement at every turn of the eyeball. Vendors with push carts plow backwards and forwards with little mobile barbeques, discos, and drinks 
carts. People wander backwards and forwards with trees of necklaces, sunglasses, T - shirts, plastic smily faces, CDs, DVDs, and well, you get the picture. And bottoms! There are more scantily clad bottoms on display, of every size and colour, than you can imagine. Bikini design is the king of diversity (despite applying very little material). And for every slim bikini there is a hunk (for the girls) in black trunks playing football (well, it is Brazil). The entire beach is circumnavigated by a well paved promenade, every hundred yards punctuated by a little hut selling all sorts of stuff (but mostly cervesa latas and their little manor of sunbeds). By the time 15 minutes have passed and we have arrived from the hotel to the main eating and drinking area, the street is littered with brightly coloured paintings (lots of yellows) on the beach side and open restaurants on the other, advertising unlimited amounts of meat for around $12 (lunch or dinner - take your choice). Add to that an external temperature of 33 degrees made bearable by a constant Atlantic breeze and the ever-present noise of the surf and you have somewhere that is, well, not boring. I might like it here (given the necessary time to be decommissioned from the control, process, robotic, etc). . . .
carts. People wander backwards and forwards with trees of necklaces, sunglasses, T - shirts, plastic smily faces, CDs, DVDs, and well, you get the picture. And bottoms! There are more scantily clad bottoms on display, of every size and colour, than you can imagine. Bikini design is the king of diversity (despite applying very little material). And for every slim bikini there is a hunk (for the girls) in black trunks playing football (well, it is Brazil). The entire beach is circumnavigated by a well paved promenade, every hundred yards punctuated by a little hut selling all sorts of stuff (but mostly cervesa latas and their little manor of sunbeds). By the time 15 minutes have passed and we have arrived from the hotel to the main eating and drinking area, the street is littered with brightly coloured paintings (lots of yellows) on the beach side and open restaurants on the other, advertising unlimited amounts of meat for around $12 (lunch or dinner - take your choice). Add to that an external temperature of 33 degrees made bearable by a constant Atlantic breeze and the ever-present noise of the surf and you have somewhere that is, well, not boring. I might like it here (given the necessary time to be decommissioned from the control, process, robotic, etc). . . .
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3 comments:
Well, that sounds very nice indeed!
I am very definately jealous.
Was it 1 or 2 drinks today?
Aaah (jealous sigh) the 'organisation' of the sun beds and hawkers sounds reminiscent of the beaches in Goa - but there the only bikinis belong to the tourists - mainly the women - and the hunks playing football are replaced by smallish chaps in shirts and long trousers playing beach cricket (different sports and standards of modesty in India). It does sound a great place to unwind and if they are using US dollars as the currency of choice you are doubly blessed hailing from a sterling background!
Sorry Dave I forgot to mention the bottoms mmmmm.............
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