Letters in the most literal way possible have always played a role in my life. They let me imagine places and get to know people that have never been.
Now they take me places.
And I'm reminded of that famous quote - "I am not a crook!"
And that other famous quote - "We are looking for the ros lyn"
And a third quote (for the sake of completion) that I just happen to enjoy - "Amigos con derecho y sin derecho de tenerte siempre".
The weather was crisp and spirits were high as we all united and boarded the train for an underwater adventure towards a mistress of the lower hoods of Brazil.
Where down south Favela would carry the connotation of danger, low income, dancing and hope - that only translates here into delicious caipirinhas, corrugated metal and flimsy flip flops stapled to the roof. The samba was flowing and the drinks kept playing with perception of time, space and season. The smell of feijoada was a tantalizing possibility but I knew there'd be more to come so instead i egged people on and carried light conversation smiling in the compulsory way only the happy can.
No reason and cheeks hurting we left the lady - my shoulders still itching to follow the smooth tones of samba and bossa nova.
Thighs and pies. Enough said. Deep fried chicken in hot sauce with a buttery biscuit that's served in a style reminiscent of the german bratwurst in an positively diminutive bun and called a hot dogs despite merely being a handle with which to grasp the goodness.
Back up driggs and past my cousin's cleaner we perfectly timed it in such a way that we ran into sisters that managed to look alike and not alike disarmingly at the same time. A block down we picked 3 more for our crew and lined up outside BB.
Where beer dispelled any illness we may have once had.
And we had a Blast (2 chips). And a defender and an celebration of the month between september and november.
I'm going to call these daycations from now on.
And listen to Aguas di Marco (pretend the c has a little curlycue below it) for a little while.
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