Let's go to the zoo!

Before we begin, let me just say that at about 2:00 PM, Quinn declared that this had been his favorite day so far. Keep that in mind. 

We got up at about 8:00, which is probably about the amount of sleep a growing teenager should be getting - we'd gone to bed at about eleven, having  stayed up a while to watch "An Idiot Abroad". (It was the Brazil episode, as it turns out.) The first thing we did was to get dressed and go on a warm-up walk, then do a tabata workout - alternating air squats and push-ups. Got the blood flowing. Thence to breakfast, where I was much more under control than on previous days. I've been feeling like the food here has been a little TOO good if you know what I mean. 

Last night we had decided to go to the zoo, one of the suggested activities from the guidebook Quinn had bought me. It said the zoo was very modern and well-appointed, and showed us how to get there. Fortunately or unfortunately, it involved walking back up to Paulista again. We'd walked up there to change money, to go to Rua Oscar Freire, we'd jogged there, we'd walked there to take the subway to Uruguay-England...but Quinn was game. Off we went.

We waited for the bus for 20 minutes or so, then rode it for probably 40 - thinking for most of the way that it was free, since nobody else seemed to pay. We speculated that maybe the bus fee hike we'd heard about had been such a cataclysmic moment that they'd decided to just make the buses free. But then I realized that right behind us was the woman whose job it is to take money and make change. We'd just not gone far enough back to see her. The bus is divided in 2 by a turnstile, and we were supposed to go to the back - most of the forward seats were labeled as preferential seating for elderly people, pregnant people, lactating mothers, and obese people. But we'd found seats that weren't so labeled, and figured we were in the clear. Not so much. I paid and got her to agree to let us know when to get off. 

No real need, as it turned out- we were let out in front of the biggest gate you can imagine:

We paid and entered, and were off to see the animals:

I could have taken a million more. It was a great zoo - well-cared-for, healthy- looking, non-crazy-acting animals, and the cleanest public bathrooms I have ever seen anywhere. We never (knowingly) saw, nor heard, any other Americans there. Lots of Latin Americans from other countries, but no gringos. Curious, that- though we've seen fewer overall, except at the game itself, than I would have thought. 

We ate lunch there - I had some water and nuts I'd packed, and Quinn had some cheese empanadas and a can or two of our accidentally-purchased soda. 

More animal watching, and then we got tired and hit the bus stop. Eighteen minutes waiting, forty more in the bus - which we now knew how to manage. 

And now we are back at the Pousada, where we are watching Ghana- Germany. We're going to participate in the hostel's cook-out tonight - for $8 a head, we get delicious food and conversation with all the other guests. I will be insisting that our phones stay upstairs for that. A whole passel of Chileans are expected to arrive and I'll want Quinn talking with them. 

Regarding Quinn's declaration at the zoo that this was his favorite day so far, I did question that judgment a bit."Better than seeing 2 Suarez goals and one from Roomey? Better than your first ever international soccer game? I mean, you've seen lions and orangutan a before." 

He shrugged. "I guess."

Remarkably, I maintained my calm exterior throughout the conversation. The teenage perspective: it is a maddening thing sometimes. But overall his attitude today was excellent. It's just amazing to me that his favorite bit has nothing to do with the reason we're here, or with Brazil. But that's my anaconda to wrestle, not his. 

Here are the preparations for dinner, by the way:

Post-dinner: it was even better than it looks.

Rua Oscar Freire

Hey everyone, it's Quinn here. Today is Friday June 20. I was woken up this morning at 8:30 by my dad because he wanted to go on a run... We got dressed, stretched a bit and then began jogging at a slowish pace. Noticing that we had to stop every ten seconds at a crosswalk, I started running faster because we were getting ten second brakes every ten seconds. We came back to the hostel after a 30 minute run. My breakfast consisted of delicious cake, hard melon and some Belgian wafers, which were also delicious. After breakfast my dad and I took a shower (but not together), got dressed and were quickly on our way to the seventh most luxurious street in the world, "Rua Oscar Freire". On our way there, we passed through a beautiful street market. My dad and I were offered a strawberry by a vendor and tasted it... It was the best single strawberry I had ever had in my life. It looked like they do in commercials.

We were looking for bananas and saw this enormous line full different sizes, shapes, and flavors. It was amazing. 

We also passed by a huge selection of seafood. It was all fresh and looked soooooooo good. 

Soon we arrived at our destination, the most luxurious street in Brazil. It had stores that sold items from food and clothes to art and shoes. My favorite part of today was going to the nike store. It had awesome jerseys, hats, and the coolest new nike cleats, the nike superflies... They are really light and comfortable but cost over 400 reales. It was really expensive, and of course we were just looking around. 

After that, dad and I decided to go to lunch at a place where you serve yourself from the food available and then they weigh your food. I got some pasta, meat, and rice, along with some small fried-type things. Lunch was delicious, and then we walked back to the hostel. 

We saw the Italy vs coast Rica game which was an ok game, and then went to go get some seltzer and fruit and nuts to have in our room. Turns out the drinks we thought were seltzer, were actually soda. My dad doesn't drink soda, so it's all for me... Yes!!!! Once back at the hostel, we saw some of the France vs Switzerland game (sorry about the result mom). France won the match 5-0. All ther goals were good finishes. After that I came up here to write this blog, and that's where I am now. Thanks for reading this, and I hope to write to you all later, but for now I have to go have dinner.

JOE: Quinn did a fine job there. But he left out the weird / cool aspects of the massive grocery store. One: it has an escalator.........for shopping carts:

Quinn insisted we ride it. 

Two: They have assistants who whiz around the place.......on ROLLER SKATES!!!:

Quinn really wants to order in this evening, so I'll buckle on that one. He actually ended our long walk to Oscar Freire / lunch-hungry death march by turning to me and saying, "That was fun!" So I won't push. Good night! 

P.S.: The bananas were mostly banana-flavored. 

Loyalties Shift

Where to begin? Let us start at the very beginning. That's a very good place to start.

We slept in until 8:30 today and went down for breakfast. The fare was limited, and some of the options - like the "fruit loops" and the "juice" - are of the "fool me once" variety, and will be studiously avoided in future. But we were still happy with it, because it was free, and stuff can be expensive here. Though so far we have been able to find decent meals at reasonable prices - more on that later. 

Breakfast conversation centered on how much credence we should give Roberto, who works at the hostel, as far as his suggestion about when we should head to the stadium. He said we should head out at 11:00 for a 4:00 game, but that struck us all as excessive. The metro here was supposed to be very modern and efficient, so we decided to give ourselves more time doing other things before striking out for the game. 

Things like change money, for instance. Quinn and I walked up to Avenida Paulista, the center of Sao Paulo's  financial clout, and then several blocks to a hotel that would be open on a holiday. (It's Corpus Christi, apparently, and the banks are closed.) so we walked 20 minutes and got in line in the basement of the Hotel, a big and luxurious joint, and waited. 

We met a couple of Costa Ricans, and congratulated them; this led to a chat that eventually made it clear that they wouldn't let me change any money without having my passport. I didn't have it. Bother. 

Back to the hotel. By now it was 12:30, and we set out for the stadium with a Uruguayan scarf and flag, the tickets, our passports (Roberto thought we would need them to get into the game, since our names are on the ticket (wrong again)), an ATM card in case the wait in line at the hotel looked long, and the best attitudes we could muster. 

Which wasn't hard - Quinn was a bit miffed at all the walking we'd had to do, but he was psyched to head to the game, and wasn't at all averse to walking down Avenida Paulista again. He found its crowds very interesting. The first bank we hit, I withdrew some money, and then we hit the metro. 

Incredibly good, this metro system. Clean, efficient, seemingly brand-new, and easy to understand (although all we had to do was follow all the Uruguay and England fans). It probably took us an hour to get there after two transfers and a last, long stretch to the stadium, in an utterly jammed train. 

The stadium itself is very impressive - brand-new, and supposedly unfinished, though I saw no evidence of that anywhere. The only hing was that the seats, which had already been through one game, still had a lot of their original plastic wrapping attached to them. 

The place was amazing. 

This guy, heading toward the stadium, is a Uruguay fan dressed as the "Ghost of 1950". Pretty funny, really. Though not if you're Brazilian. 

Quinn had about that expression on the whole time. 

Warmups.

 

This is Forlan, the Uruguayan star, warming up. He didn't play, which really got me and Quinn bent out of shape.

This is the Uruguayan forward who feigned unconsciousness in order to run out the clock on England. We were ostensibly rooting for Uruguay, but this stuff got under my skin, and I put away the flag and the scarf and started pulling for England. And rooney's goal was my favorite of the cup so far. But as much as I might not like Suarez, I have to admit, having seen him put he whole country's hopes on his back and cary  them to victory: the man is a force of nature. Strong, fast, creative, wily, superior skill set: He is the real deal, a man among boys. 

I would also say that uruguay's role players are, man by man, just better than England's. And I would be remiss if I didn't also point out that England did its fair share of flopping. I'm not happy about he result, but I can't argue with it. Uruguay was better. 

Post game, we walked back to the train station and ate an inexpensive dinner in a little joint that does an efficient game-day business, serving pizza and empanadas. It's a cross between a restaurant and a bar, and a few people were celebrating pretty loudly. Though I saw no direct abuse of the dejected England supporters, there did seem to be more singing when the Uruguayans knew there were Englishmen about. Hard to blame them. 

Quinn maintains that the pizza in this joint was the best he's ever had. No tomato sauce to speak of, a ton of cheese, and shredded ham underneath the cheese. And I agree that it was amazing. But as they say, hunger is a good sauce. And we were both famished. 

Back on the metro, which was Ridiculously quick, and here we sit, watching post- match analysis and pondering our good fortune. I hope he is, anyway. I know I am. 

Tomorrow we plan on taking a good long jog through the city, and then we'll try an itinerary for city exploration from a guidebook Quinn got me for Father's Day. A self-serving gift, perhaps. But he comes by that honestly - I've been known to give gifts that will benefit me quite directly. He's his father's son. 

I'll leave you with a snap I snuck of some dejected England fans on the subway. Poor guys. 

Seats!

We are sitting, for the Uruguay-England game, on the lowest level, in one corner. Section 409, but I don't know which cardinal direction. So watch for us - Quinn has a blue tee shirt, and I have a gray one, and we will have a Uruguayan flag and a Uruguay scarf. Off to the game!

Landfall!

Hello from Brazil! And let me tell you, this is going to be tedious. Not being in Brazil - no no no, that's going to be great. But typing on this little phone screen is going to be tedious for me , and reading the drivel I am sure to produce when so handicapped is sure to be very little fun for you. So I think it's best if we just cut each other a little slack from the word "go". Don't you?

We thought we - the four of is - would have time to have dinner together before our flight, but thunderstorms in Toronto were delaying everything, and the nice lady at the ticket counter told us she could put us on stand-by for an earlier flight. So we all said a hurried good bye and then Q and I were on our way. There were some minor-league hitches, but once we were settled into the ridiculously civilized waiting areas in Pearson Airport, wih their complementary use of banks of iPads and power outlets that any ol body can access, we were on our way. 

Two in-flight meals, two movies ("Grand Budapest Hotel" and "Gravity"), and some surprisingly deep sleep later, we stumbled into the bright light of a São Paulo mid-day.

The two explorers mug for the camera in Toronto. 

Wine is an excellent sleep aid.

Everything went smoothly at the airport, and we were inside a brand-new taxi cab in a matter of minutes. Our driver's Portuguese was quite easy to understand, and he told us that from where we were headed, it would be a very easy subway ride to the stadium tomorrow. Q was psyched to find that out. We arrived at the Pousada, paid exactly the fare that had been agreed upon, and Bob was our uncle. We had arrived. 

Our cabbie......'s profile. Not at all sure why I even took this. Nerves, I guess. 

Q, just arrived, watching Holland-Australia. (And the jersey had just the effect Janneke had said it would: someone tried to speak to him in Russian.)

The view from my lunch table. 

It turns out that, in São Paolo, FIFA has set up something called the "Fan Fest", where people gather by he thousands to watch the games on huge screens and mill about. It's a 20-minute walk from the Pousada, and Q and I mosied on over to check it out, both freshly showered and changed. 

On the way, though, we saw a site ao Brazilian that we (I) just had to snap a pic. A city lot fenced off for futbol. Really good players, too.

We arrived at the Fan Fest, and saw basically this:

Lots of nationalities present, but Uruguay was by far the best-represented. The stadium is sure to be two-thirds Uruguayan tomorrow- though our hostel has about five Englishmen staying here. Nice enough, doing that Europe thing of traveling like mad while they're young. God bless 'em. 

And that is really the whole shootin' match! Tomorrow I'd like to do a practice run to the stadium before we have to do it under the fun at game time. Other than that, no concrete plans apart from sleeping in (VERY comfy beds (and a room upgrade - got our own bathroom!)), and perhaps recon. But tomorrow is mostly about soccer. 

Huzzah!!!

Underway!

"Brazilathon"...? "Brargentinazo"...We'll work on the name. But we are underway! (Never mind the random photo of Quinn drinking a shake. He reached over and punched that photo without asking, and now it's posted. Boundaries are going to be an early issue.)

Brazil! World Cup! Migraines!

Hey folks - Well, the adventure begins. Tomorrow Janneke, Tess and Quinn come pick me up at school and we drive to the airport in New York. Quinn and I board an 8:30 plane to Toronto for some reason, then recover our senses and board another plane to Sao Paulo. An all-night flight should put us on the ground mid-morning of the 18th, whence we'll take a taxi of a particular brand that I have researched online over to the Pousada Dos Franceses. Where I will probably last ten minutes before (1) napping, and then (2) collapsing into a blubbering mess and admitting to the staff that I don't know how we're going to get to the stadium for Uruguay vs England, the ticket pictured below. My hope is that the entire hostel is going to be peopled with match-goers, and we'll all pile into a Partridge Family-style bus and convoy on over to the stadium.

Things We Have Packed that you Might Not Have Expected:

Flags of Uruguay, Chile, and Argentina.

My hair trimmers.

An "Argentina" poster and a "Holand" (sic) poster, made by Tess, which we are to hold up at each match.

Five kinds of cheese.

A deflated soccer ball and a pump.

Nothing else out of the ordinary, really. I have a paranoid fantasy that I've forgotten something, but so far, nothing has sprung to mind. I'll have a few hours at school before Janneke drives down - if I think of anything - or if you do, and tell me - I'll have Janneke throw it in the suitcase before she drives down.

My stress headache has been with me since yesterday, brought on by a number of hours standing in the sun watching Quinn's soccer tournament. (Route 22A in Vermont, by the way, is so gorgeous they should charge people to drive it. I will never go to Burlington by any other route again.) It's abating now, but it's been a doozy. Janneke was massaging my scalp twice this evening to ease it away, and it's pretty much worked. Still, I'll breathe  a big sigh of relief when we're sprawled on our beds at the Pousada.

I have a Blogger app on my phone (which, barring symptom descriptions at the doctor's office, is probably the least sexy thing I've ever said in my life), so we may be updating this bad boy from the airport(s). Or any old where, really. WiFi at the Pousada means you should get wall-to-wall coverage of our adventures. Wish us luck, and send me a message - quick - if you can think of anything I really ought to have packed.

And yes: I was lying about the cheeses.