Another Saturday Night
More memories?
Me: Do you speak English?
Woman in Tourist Information: Yes. I’m sorry I was eating. Here is a present from Florianopolis (hands me a map)? Where are you from?
LJP: Thank you. (I already had a map. It was in my hand.) Is there a direct bus to Sao Francisco do Sul? WITI: Yes. Where are you from?
LJP: England. WITI: I used to work at Alton Towers.
LJP: Really? How interesting. WITI: The British are better than the Americans. They are more quiet, but they help you when you need it. The americans act friendly. but they don´t help you.
LJP: Uh uh. WITI: There is a very old tree in the square here.
LJP: I must visit it. About the bus? WITI: Have you been to Stafford?
LJP: Yes, as a matter of fact I used to work there. WITI: Do you know the Shire Hall Library?
LJP: No, is it good? WITI: I love the Shire Hall Library (writes down ‘Shire Hall Libraray’ on a piece of paper and hands it me).
LJP: I must visit it some day. Er, the bus to… WITI: I’ve been to England four times. I would like to go again, but it is too expensive for us here to go.
LJP: Oh, I… WITI: You must visit the market.
LJP: I will. The bus to Sao Francisco? WITI: Yes, go to that company over there.
LJP: Thank you. WITI: I’m sorry for eating.
Of course, the bus did not go direct, as I had to change at Joinville as warned. Got on bus and as is usual the person in front of me had reclined his seat back as far as it would go. My seat was right next to the toilet. The man sitting next to me first cleaned his ears with his fingers and then concentrated on his dentures. He wiped his fingernails on the curtain when he had run out of orifices. Despite this the 2 hour journey might have been OK had not it been polluted by a showing of Robinson Crusoe ‘starring’ Pierce Brosnan. Everyone associated with that film should surely be tortured. And not in a nice way. Joinville station OK and bought a ticket to my planned destination. Sign on front of bus was a place I’d never heard of. Second person to sit next to me was the local nutter. I was very pleased I could speak no Portuguese. However, I may have ruined his day. Third person to sit next to me was one of a pair of local thugs. The other had very many recent injuries – some still weeping. Sao Francisco bus station was camouflaged. Having passed it, the bus driver let me off at the top of a hill past the station and I walked back down to ask a man where the nearest hotel might be. 20 minutes walk. OK, but is that a taxi I spy? Can you take me to the nearest hotel? I could, but the nice ones are 18km away and I’ve been to Hartlepool and Gravesend. Really? Let’s go 18km then. Of course he had to stop off for a few minutes to do a bit of business and naturally left the clock running. Obviously, the cab took me to the place indicated on the front of the bus. There’s £12 I’ll never see again
Despite this being the off-season all hotels are full. I got in the last one, but only for one night. It’s a lovely beachfront hotel and I have a room at the back overlooking the road. It is Rhyl, only hot. Maradona is in Brazil (he follows me, you know).
Went for a quick walk in the early dusk (nightfall 6pm here) and had a quick pint on the front. Cesar, the barman, invited me to come back later for some live music and I didn’t see how I could avoid it. Went out as late as I could for dinner and chose a busyish place. Picked the second-cheapest fish dish off the menu as price often equals quantity here and I wasn’t that hungry. It was 3 fish in batter, a platter of chips, a platter of salad and about 4 portions of rice. Also some general stuff that I can’t describe. A fiver. Oh for some beggars.
As I had finished dinner (ie a quarter of it)too early and they didn’t serve coffee (in Brazil!), I didn’t want to wait for the music. Hence I’ve let Cesar down. Fairly sure he was priming the turn for a Beatle’s track, as well, as I’d told him I was from Liverpool/Manchester. Now back in hotel watching Miss Brazil 2006. It’s ultra seventies. My local beauty (Miss Santa Catarina) has just come third. The winner cried.
Memories? Wonder what will happen tomorrow.
Song of the day is Sam Cooke a la the title of this post…
Tags: Florianopolis, Travel
JohnnyBoy