Off to sea-side town of Angra-dos-reis for few days.
Different vibe all together—semi-wild beaches, rugged, tropical mountains and literally hundred of islands dotting the crystal clear sea.
Bad news: can’t find my passport. Left my handbag with money and the passport in taxi.
Stay in hotel room to sulk. David goes horseback riding. Comes back and says best that he has ever been on. Receptionist tells me taxi driver drove back an hour to return bag!
(yea) Cab drivers no longer arch-enemy but gave him nice tip.
Go on snorkeling excursion in afternoon. A blast. Glad to be with David.
(The guy taking us on the boat—very creepy. Keeps rubbing his hands on the wet-suit, smiling. Keeps telling me to wear one. Think has a Jacques Cousteau perversion/rubber fetish of some sort.)
Evening–go to nearby charming village. Lots of kids playing football (soccer) in the streets. Can’t find our seafood restaurant. All numbers on homes and shops hidden.
Finally find the place…lots of kids sitting in front, blocking the entrance. I shoo them away like pesky flies (am fast learner). Feels as if stepped into a ripe banana…walls bright-yellow. Woman on the side ironing shirt. Middle-aged man, sitting on the coach, with undershirt, clipping toe nails and watching grainy T.V. Have feeling not in restaurant (woman’s intuition, I guess). I bolt out of house. David is bent-over laughing.
