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Florianópolis, Brazil
27° 35' S 48° 33' W
Jan 23, 2006 17:01
Distance 641km

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Flo-Shizzle Drizzle

Text written in: English

An early morning arrival in the sunshine city of Florianópolis was followed by some disappointing accommodation information. The city is half on the mainland and half on the island of Santa Catarina, where some of Brazil's best beaches cover the coastline. Unfortunately, it appeared that most beach hotels were imposing a 5-night minimum stay, but after a little persistence, the tourist officer called a friend of his and arranged a rather basic room (where I was later to be devoured by insects of some description) at the resort of Praia dos Ingleses, reputedly the most built up of the island's beaches. We settled in and decided to make an initial foray into the glorious sunshine in the afternoon. However, perhaps due to what Ben is now beginning to feel is a curse on him, the skies quickly clouded over and after about 20 minutes surveying the crowded and less than impressive beach, what would become a familiar veil of drizzle enshrouded Praia dos Ingleses.

As it was a Sunday, and all travel ticketting agencies were closed, we were trapped at the resort until Tuesday. Our stay became more of a functional one than anything else. I got laundry done, we both racked up plenty of internet time and we made several frustrating journeys to try and purchase a mobile phone charger for Ben. Though, before we set off on a marathon journey by plane from here to São Paulo, to Brasilia and finally to Belem, we got to take in a little of the city centre. This proved to be a chance to rue our decision to head to the beaches. There appeared to be a vibrancy that was sorely lacking in the beach resort with no sun. The city's main square was full of life, with beautiful colonial buildings and interesting little streets heading off it from all sides. In short, it was a place that could be enjoyed regardless of the weather.

There were however some winners in all this. The much-missed fruit and magic counts were dusted off and emerged from their hibernation with a vengence. I had already fallen into my old ways of sipping acerola juice, while enjoying a bowl of açaí (an icy smoothie of purple Amazon berries, served with banana and granola). Here, I was also able to sneak in a glass of amaro juice, a fruit that appears to have no translation and one whose form I have yet to see. As for the magic count, in addition to hearing a dance remix of Roy Orbison's 'I drove all night' at the club on our night out at Iguaçu, after Ben had randomly been singing the original earlier, Ben also remained convinced that he was cursed never to get sun at a beach resort.