Attack Parrot

There is a semi-domesticated Macaw parrot that hangs out around the lodge.  I was going back to my bungalow and he was sitting on the rail on the deck in front of my door.  He spread his wings and actually said "Hello."  I replied "Hello," and we went back and forth with this one word exchange for a few minutes while I took pictures.  I went in my room to get him a few cashews and a piece of bread, which he appreciated.  I went back in to get my laptop and closed the door, but did not latch it.  When I turned around, he was walking right behind me in my room.  He has a very big beak and he was eyeing my toes. 

I was wearing shorts and sandals.  I yelled "get out," but that did not appear to be in his vocabulary and I did not know how to say it in Portuguese.  He kept coming towards me and I was certain that I was about to have another toe operation.  My back was against the wall and not having a broom to defend myself,  I gave him a quick, but soft, kick towards the door.  He walked out, turned around and looked at me with face that said, "You didn't have to kick me."  He waddled off with his left wing hanging down and I was afraid I might have hurt him.  I was just thinking how many thousands I would be fined for injuring a Brazilan Macaw, when he jumped in the air and flew off.  The next morning he was back in the reception area squawking "hello," but I think he remembered our encounter because he refused to look at my feet.  I thought that was the end of the story, but later that morning I returned to my bungalow and he was sitting on the rail in front of my door.  When I started up the steps to the door, he opened his wings and gave me an evil eye.  It was obvious he was not going to let me in my room without a fight.  The maid was cleaning the adjacent room and eventually came to my rescue and scooped the parrot up in a bath towel.  I went into my room and shaved and when I opened the door, there he was, blocking my exit.  I tried intimidating him by waving my hat, but he was not impressed.  I put on my rain parka and held my arms out to make myself look bigger, but again he was not impressed.  I finally took a large bath towel and held it in front of me like I was going to wrap him in it, and he backed away on the rail. 

I scooted out the door, with my bath towel.  So the moral of the story is that the most dangerous animal in the Amazon (at least at this lodge) is the parrot. 

South of Rio - Ubatuba

South of Rio – Ubatuba

We got up early on New Year’s Day and took a taxi to the car rental agency to pick up our car.  We drove for about six hours, the last in very heavy traffic to Ubatuba (I love that name), a resort city south Rio.   Aggie had booked us a room with two beds in two star Brazilian hotel in Itamabbuca, a beach resort community, five miles north of Ubatuba.  It was clean, but lacked the amenities of an American hotel and was a little funky.  That night we went looking for a restaurant in pouring rain. We ducked into a sushi restaurant named “Warling Temakeria” owned by Rosie.  She offered some of the best sushi and sashimi I have ever eaten.  We ate in a Japanese dining room with cushions on the floor and low tables.  I went back to the car for a bottle of wine and we enjoyed an excellent dinner, while the rain thundered on the metal roof ov on er our heads.

The next morning we drove into Ubatuba and went to a tourist information center seeking information on where we could rent a sail boat and the best places to go snorkeling.  Our new “friend,” Luis, said he had a friend with a sailboat and he would call or text us on Aggie’s cell phone.  We drove to a beach about 10 miles north of our hotel and took a water taxi to a small island that was supposed to have very good snorkeling. 

 

The visibility was not bad, but there was nothing to see.  But we had a good swim and the ocean was beautiful.  Aggie gave me a yoga pose for a photo op and we swam back.  Aggie tried getting out on the rocks and scratched her upper thighs and lower belly at her bikini line and it looked like she was hit with the tail of a large shark.  

We doctored her up from my first aid kit and went back to the hotel to clean up and go out to dinner at a restaurant that specializes in roasted heart of palm, which was excellent.

On Friday we drove to Paraty and stopped at a couple of marinas looking for a boat to rent or bum a day sail on, but no luck.  We wandered around the town, which is listed as a very popular beach and artist town.  We were not impressed.  The information center recommended we try Trinadad beach, not far south of town. 

We hiked along a well-marked jungle trail about a mile to a beautiful, almost deserted, beach in front of an exclusive condo complex.  The water was warm and clear, but again no fish.   There were guards patrolling the lawn between the sand and the condos and we were told we could not be on the lawn, but they did not kick us out because we spoke English and are obviously gringos.  We stopped at Trinidad, another local beach, and had a beer before returning to our hotel.  We had dinner at another Japanese restaurant Ubatuba. 

On Saturday we starting driving to Sao Paulo, with the intent of stopping at Domingo Diaz beach.  Traffic was stop and go and it took us an hour to get out of Ubatuba.  We were passing a marina south of town that had a lot of sail boats anchored out.  I decided to stop.  It was one of my typical serendipitous events in which we just happened to pull up to the gate of a sailing club at the same time that a man who owns a 30 foot sail boat was driving in.  He said, “Oh, you must be the couple from San Francisco that is looking for a boat to charter.”  Our “friend,” Luis from Ubatba had contacted him last Thursaday, but there was no follow-up.  Then the stars that control my life took over and arranged for me to meet this stranger at the gate of a marina I had no idea I was going to stop at until 5 minutes before we met.  I will never understand how these things happen.  So I just go with the flow.   We had a fantastic afternoon of sailing in strong winds and bumpy seas.  The boat owner, Bobby, let me steer all the time and I loved it.

We left the marina about 5 p.m. and drove in heavy traffic for about two hours, then stopped for a long dinner, and continued to Aggie's apartment in the Sao Paulo, arriving at 2 a.m. 

New Year's in Rio

I flew from Paris to Rio de Janeiro on December 31st and met Aggie at the airport.   We took a taxi to an apartment owned by her friend, who was out of town and spent the day wandering around Rio.  It is not a very clean city and the people are friendly, but most are overweight.

New Years is a huge celebration in Rio, even bigger than Christmas, with dancing in the streets, fireworks, and hundreds of thousands of people.  We decided to watch the fireworks, but avoid the huge crowd on Cocobana beach.  

Everyone wears white and I brought my guayabera and white pants with me for the occasion.   After a light dinner and wine at the apartment, we walked to one beach, and then another to watch the fireworks, which were spectacular.  

Paris in December

I took the train from Troyes to Paris on December 28th and after going the wrong way on the subway once, found my hotel at about 4 p.m.  Nice, modern, clean hotel not far from the city center.  I wanted to go Karaoke singing and got directions from the pretty hotel clerk.  I got back on the subway and then walked several blocks to the karaoke bar, but apparently it had been closed for several months.  I went to another bar and asked directions to another karaoke bar on my list.  Now that I had mastered the subway system, it was no problem switching lines and getting to my new destination.  A TripAdvisor review said this second bar is a local dive, and it was true.  About three patrons in the bar were watching sports on TV, no bar tender around, and it was a very tired smelly environment.  I gave it a pass and looked at some restaurants on the way back to the subway, but none appealed to me.  I was on   Boulevard de la Bastille and there was a protest going on with about 100 marchers.  Of course I could not understand what they were chanting, but the photo of a prominent woman dissentient from another country was a clue.  So I had dinner at my hotel.

On Sunday I wandered around Paris via the subway and walking.  The streets and sidewalks were crowded with Parisians enjoying a sunny Sunday.This was my third time in Paris, so I did not feel the need to visit all the tourist spots, but I could not resist seeing the Eifel Tower again.  Across the Seine there was a huge Christmas adnarket with a couple of hundred vendor booths, and thousands of people.  I wanted to go salsa dancing and took the metro to a restaurant named "Barrio Latino."  I got there about about 1 and was told the intermediate lesson started at 2.  They were serving Sunday brunch for 36 euros (about $50), which was more than I wanted to pay.  Also, I wanted to eat at a sidewalk cafe and watch the people.  So I walked back to Bastille square and sat at a table right in front.  I had an excellent lunch of plank fish, fresh vegetables, bread, white wine, and a cappuccino.  All for only 38 euros.  So much for trying to save money on lunch!  Of course lunch took about 90 minutes and when I got back to Barrio Latino, the lesson was half over.   I watched the last half and stayed with the intent of dancing, but when I put on my dancing shoes, my left toe hurt.  Also, I had not salsa danced since before my operation on October 31st, so I decided to just watch the dancing and enjoy the music.  I went to the third karaoke bar on my list, but it had also been closed for some time.  I will post on TripAdvisor.  Karaoke does not seem popular in Paris.  They do not know what they are missing by not providing me a venue …or maybe they heard I was coming!

I love the cosmopolitan feeling of Paris and contrary to popular belief; I was treated with courtesy everywhere in the city.  One young lady at the information booth at the metro station gave me directions on how to get on the right subway, and when I stood there looking at my map, she took pity on me, came out of her booth and pointed me in the right direction with explicit instructions.  Pickpockets are a big problem in Paris, as they are in many big cities in Europe.  There are signs in all the subway stations and in the hotel elevators warning on how the pickpockets operate.  On Monday morning I met a lady at breakfast that had her purse stolen the day before from her backpack.  She had taken it out of the backpack in the subway station and then put it back in again.   I was very careful and also carried a whistle on a strap attached to my daypack.   I never took my wallet out of my inner jacket pocket in public and did not stand in the subway stations looking at maps. 

Tuesday afternoon I headed for the airport to catch my flight to Rio de Janeiro, via Rome.  It was raining hard in Paris.  Time to fly into summer in Brazil, on December 31st.

French Cuisine

Francoise's close friends, Phillip and Katherine invited Francoise, Aggie and me to dinner at their home, after we returned from Copenhagen.  Phillip loves to cook and he prepared a fantastic meal for the occasion.  We started with champagne, of course, and hors d'oeuvres, while listening to music by the Beach Boys.  Phillip had prepared home-made pate de foie de voielle and pate de foie gras.  The entree was a sea food dish that Phillip had invented. He started by sautéing peas, pearl potatoes, carrots, shallots and garlic in butter.  He spooned a layer of the veggies into small stone pots, then added large prawns, followed by another layer of veggies, then a layer of sautéed scallops.  Then he covered the pots with a pastry crust and baked them in the oven. 

  The French often have red wine with sea food and the French think the American rule of white wine with sea food is silly.  For dessert we had a selection of cheeses and fruit, followed by alcohol de poire William, a bottle in which a pear is grown and then pure alcohol is added and allowed to age.  Phillip said this bottle was about ten years old. Phillip has seen the pear trees covered with bottles in which the pears are grown.  I would like to try growing some.  Luckily, I was not driving that night.

 

Christmas in Copenhagen

We flew from Paris to Copenhagen on Dec 22nd, and stayed at a hotel located just two blocks for Tivoli.  That night we wandered around the Christmas outdoor market and sipped glog.  The next day Aggie and I spent about 4 hours in Tivoli, Copenhagen's premier amusement park which also has a big Christmas market that has many vendors with locally made arts and crafts.  It was a cold day and I bought a handmade knitted Scandinavian style hat to keep my head and ears warm.  Good of after skiing on a cold day (I wear a helmet while skiing).

 

Aggie's brother, Alex, and his girlfriend, Emily, flew in that evening and we all went to dinner at a very good small Danish restaurant near the hotel which was packed with locals.  We got there about 9 and waited 30 minutes for a table.  I expected to see a lot of smorgasbord restaurants, but we did not eat at one while were there for four days.  The next day was December 24^th and all the museums and most of the shops were closed. 

We walked for miles all over Copenhagen, ending up at the famous little mermaid.  On the way back to the hotel I convinced them to stop at a karaoke bar where I sang two songs.  Some of the patrons were excellent singers and we enjoyed the music. 

On Christmas morning we got up late, had breakfast, then opened gifts in our apartment.  Aggies brothers gave me some joke gifts:  A pair of underwear in the design of the Danish flag, and a horned Viking hat.  We went for a long walk to Christiania which was originally established as a type of commune, but is now a place where marijuana is sold in various forms from about ten vendor booths, each with a name like, “Marijuana Doctor.”  There are several big signs at the entrance to Christiania. That say, “NO PHOTOS.”   About 1000 people live in Christiania, but now there seems to be almost no economic activity other than the sale of marijuana.

My left foot was hurting from my toe operation so I took a bus back to the apartment, rather than walking.  That night the boys and I picked up some take out Chinese food and brought it back to the apartment.  It was the only bad meal I had in Copenhagen.

The next day we flew back to Paris and drove to Troyes.  It was fun seeing Copenhagen again.  I was there for New Years in 1968, but did not go to Tivoli or see as much of the city then.  It is a small city,  very clean and architecturally interesting. Everyone speaks English because it is a required language in all the schools. 

Champagne, champagne!

I flew from Vermont to Paris, France, on December 14th and took the train to Troyes,  that is in the heart of the champagne district.  My friend, Francoise, met me at the train station and we walked about five blocks to her house, which was built in 1898.  Francoise had done a lot of shopping and she spoiled me with excellent French wines, cheese, and her cooking.  On Monday I walked around the old city of Troyes that has many buildings dating back the Roman era.   Monday night I attended a Rotary meeting that was held at a business that provides internet security services.  The meeting opened with a glass of champagne.  It is a tradition in Troyes to have a glass of champagne at the beginning of any meeting or social gathering.  The program was in French, of course, so I did not understand what was said, but the program was illustrated with a power point presentation and I could follow some of that.  Francoise and I finished dinner about 11:30, just in time to go to bed.  I woke up about 5 a.m. on Tuesday, went back to sleep, and did not wake up again until 10:30 a.m.!  I never sleep that late!  Apparently, I have not adjusted to the time change.

On Tuesday I walked around the old city, went to a wine shop where I bought three bottles of good French wine, and unsuccessfully tried to find a bank that would change dollars for euros.  I found a restaurant that has karaoke on Tuesday nights so I made dinner reservations for 8:30.   Francoise had to work until about 8 and when we arrived at the restaurant the karaoke was in full swing.  My first song was the Beatle's standard, "I Want To Hold Your Hand," that got a lot of applause.  My second song was "New York, New York" in the Frank Sinatra version.  Even though my timing was off a little, the crowd loved it.   I was pleasantly surprised when a beautiful French girl came to our table and was gushing over my singing.  I don't think I am that great, but I am getting better, thanks to several months of voice lessons and practice

The French know how to eat and enjoy life.  Breakfast of fresh baked baguettes, lunch of salad and chicken or fish. and dinner at 10 p.m. of soup and salad.  Lunch and dinner may take an hour or two ... or three.

Then there are the meals out.  Thursday we went to Le Sarrail Restaurant in Troyes for a pre-Chrsitmas lunch with friends.  Lunch lasted for three hours.  I started with Terrine de foie de voielle confit (chicken liver pate salad), followed by Pave de saumon juste grille (grilled salmon) and finished with creme brulee.  Of course we first had a glass of champagne, complimented the salmon an excellent Beaujolais, and finally espresso and alcohol de poire william (alcohol seeped with a pear).

The restaurant is owned by two brothers who are friends of Francoise's friends.  Fantastic French food and very nice people.