We woke up in Ilha Grande Friday morning with a responsibility: the responsibility of waking those lazy girls. Chateau did it with song.
I want to show you the shark poster that was up at the Inn,
This is the bathroom for gentlemen in Brazil, this is the bathroom that I use.
We had a ferry to catch back to civilization at 5:30, that gave us a lot of time for one more key adventure: hiring a boat and rappelling down a waterfall.
Boat hired. He was not the Captain.
The hike to the waterfall was not as easy as hoped. Oh my poor hams! But here's the waterfall!
From the ground I caught the action. And if you are asking why I didn't participate, then you don't know enough about my knees and elbows for me to explain it here. And another reason: my burnt up feet.
One by one, my buddies all descended. A few times a trip the rapel master would have the rapeller give a turn to get blasted by the waterfall, so keep an eye out for that.
Others, locals and tourists, enjoying the waterfall.
Back to my buddies making there way down:
Hiking back to the boat, so hot and dirty and terrible on that hill. My hams got their second roasting of the day. But getting back to the beach was nice.
Next stop? Lunch on a beach somewhere else on the island, somewhere where they had a zipline. (Click that video and you'll see Bryndee zipping)
Another thing they had: friendly kids, kids without fear.
And also, they fried fish for me. (Not the kids, the people of the beach. At their restaurant)
A little more playing around, and then we boarded our boat and headed back to homebase.
Everything seemed to be going as planned until we discovered we were cutting it very, very close on the ferry. We were the very last to board, if it weren't for the diligence and persuasiveness of someone we were paying to get us back to Rio, we would have surely spent another night on our island paradise.
We disembarked in the charming town of Angra, here we took a waiting van back to Rio.
BEACH DOGS. A whole wonderful pack of rebels and scamps!
Banned from Angra: Crocodiles, I suppose.
Returned home to our dear Girl from Ipanema Hostel we enjoyed a private room to ourselves this time. And by "private room to ourselves" I mean a hallway with bunkbeds in it that other people passed through at all hours.
That night? Taxi'd over to the Lapa neighborhood to enjoy the nightlife. The nightlife had me on edge, but here's a market-ish place full of food stands beside the arcos.
And here's from the inside of a bar/restaurant/whatever it might have been where we enjoyed some samba--at times melodic and lovely, at times cacophonous and grating.
Doesn't this wrap up of our night out seem a touch brief? Danger Supplement #6, my friends. Danger Supplement #6.