London Calling

Going to London was not on our minds.

At least not until we got the email from Tam Airlines saying we could fly there for free with our airmiles. That got us started thinking about it, but the price of staying and eating in London was too much.

Until we saw that we could stay right in central London for about $18 night at a hostel with a kitchen. If we bought food at the grocery store, we could eat for the same price as at home, more or less.

How can anyone refuse that? Patrícia was dying to go and I had been to London several times without ever leaving the airports, which to me, doesn't count for anything--all big airports are basically interchangeable (small airports can have more interesting character). We readied ourselves for cold weather, British English, and bad food, and booked the trip.

Everything went fine on the flights and immigration. We jumped on a metro train that would take us directly to our hostel, actually just around the block from the Russell Square stop. The hostel, Smart Russell Square Hostel, was typical for busy cities: big common rooms, free wi-fi, lack of personality, a big kitchen, and generally well equipped. Or so we thought. The website shows an exercise room and sauna that I was planning on using. I asked where they were and this was the response, "Oh, those are only on the website, we don't have them." Uh....what? Nice.

One very positive thing about the place were the beds. Bunk beds with curtains so you could have privacy and block the light that people inevitably turn on at two o'clock in the morning. Sure they were a little short for my long legs, but what can you do?

We got a big hot dog buried in fried onions from a street vendor next to the hostel and jumped on a double decker bus to see the city.

Skiing in the Summer!

We drove up to Timberline Lodge on Mt Hood, about an hour or so from Portland. Patrícia kept asking where the snow was. Everything is green and beautiful and warm. I said, "wait, we have a lot more 'up' to go." And so we went, up and up and up. And it got colder and colder. Only in the last few miles did the snow start.

Finally, there it was, enshrouded in clouds, Timberline Lodge, a 70 year old public works project built to give people jobs. And now it is a comfortable and attractive historic monument that you can sleep, eat, relax, and play in. Our cute little room had a nice new bathroom, and the original furniture and art designed and custom made when the lodge was built.

We ate at the "world famous" Cascade Dining room and were treated very well as newlyweds. Free champagne and special table service. It started with hot fresh rosemary bread with olive oil and balsamic, a mini tasting of cold fillet mignon, the most incredible crawfish bisque, and a lingon berry granita (like a slushy). She had a prawn and scallop pasta as an entree and I had lamb chops of course. To go with it, we had a fantastic wine that was not expensive(big surprise considering the cost of the dinner.) Everything was fantastic, but the crawfish bisque left us craving more and more.

The next morning, I looked out the window and saw the hordes of snow boarders and skiers, walking to the lift, about 100 meters from our window. We ran over to the rental shop, got skis, boots, and poles and hit the slopes for her first lesson. It was sunny and surprisingly warm and we stripped off a lot of the clothes we had just put on.

The lift line was crazy with snowboarders and the only runs open were intermediate or expert. There was no way Patrícia could make it since she had never been on skis before so we hiked up a bit for her private lessons (with me). She was scared to death and I had to ski backwards in front of her, holding on. She learned fast and did well and we went over to the lift and bought really expensive tickets for the few hours they would be open. In the summer the snow gets too soft in the afternoon and you can't ski.

We got on the lift without incident, getting off was almost a scene. She had her poles under her leg as we rode up and when she took them out when we were about to get off, she got her skis and poles all tangled. I managed to help her just in the nick of time. And then she promptly fell getting off the lift like I knew she would. I think it is a right of passage.

Perched at the top of the intermediate slope, in the warm summer morning, she looked great, like a real skier. I was proud that she had the nerve to get that far. She, however, was horrified with the prospect of moving from that spot. With no small amount of coaxing, she started down, going much much faster than on the practice slope below. A few screams, but she did great for her first time. She made long smooth turns and only fell a few times. I was so proud.

She could not ski for long before her muscles gave out and I went to the very top to the expert runs while she waited below. I love skiing. It was fast and scary and great. My muscles on the other hand didn't like it so much. I just couldn't ski for very long. My thighs were on fire.

We had some clam chowder and drove back down to the hot summer temperatures of Vancouver. A very memorable day and a half.

Eric's Birthday

We got back into Vancouver on Eric's 15th birthday. We headed out for the best Chinese food ever. It was a combination of a superb waiter and the best tasting Chinese I have ever had. It was an incredible meal. The waiter told us outright what was good, bad, and best on the menu. And he was right. He even gave us a free appetizer of shrimp dumplings that was heavenly. At the end he brought a free dessert for Eric with a candle of course, without any fanfare or scene, just "Have a happy birthday." It was at PF Changs, which I always thought was overrated even though I never ate there. I'm a believer.

We stayed in Vancouver a few days, went hiking up to a waterfall, and drove out to the coast with Grandma, Grandpa, and Eric. It was decent weather. Not sunny, not cold. I got to show Patricia where they filmed the movies Goonies and Kindergarden Cop, but the best part was the forest and beach. We hiked a short trail and played on the beach and just relaxed.

We also went to my favorite Moroccan restaurant where you sit on little poufs on the floor, eat with your hands and watch the belly dancer perform.

The most exciting part was to come later. Up the mountain. In the snow. In the middle of summer.

Napa Valley

We couldn't go to San Franciso without running up to Napa Valley, so we found one of the tour companies and booked a trip for about $80 a person for the day. We met the bus a block from our hotel at Union Square at 8 am. It was one of those big tour buses of course. For the price we could not expect anything else. It included lunch and 4-5 winery stops and included the wine tasting fees. A pretty good deal we thought. Until we got on the bus.

The rows of cramped seat with questionably clean fabric were missing. We were surprised to see a real party bus with long curving black leather seats that ran along the windows, fresh fruit and veggie trays, croissants and rolls, wow! And there were only a few couples. It was a classy and comfortable ride. We stopped at wineries in Napa and Sonoma, had a delicious lunch with an addictive pasta salad, grilled chicken sandwiches, and mixed greens.

We had to be careful because we were tasting so many wines, like 6-10 at each winery. We dumped some out after tasting and drank lots of others. I even finished some of Patrícia's that I particularly liked. On the trip home, we were feeling just fine.

We Got Married!

I put on my new brown suit with the tie she gave me for my birthday. She was elegant and gorgeous in her custom made dress. And we were off, catching a bus to the steps of City Hall. We were by far the best dressed people on the bus.

Translation in hand we dutifully took our number and waited our turn to get a marriage license. Our ceremony was scheduled only half an hour later so we were tense. The SF City Hall marriages are strictly BYOW (Bring Your Own Witness(minimum one)). My friend Steven agreed to do the honors and showed up on time--one less worry. They called our number and the clerk took the translation and checked her online database. She was frowning so much I started to get worried. Patrícia reassured me that she was one of those perpetual frowners. Everything was fine. Wheeeeew!

We met the pleasant diminutive judge, everyone showed ID and signed the license, and then we waited our turn. When it was time, we followed the cute little judge upstairs to the rotunda. The location was fabulous--look at the pictures. Steven did a great job with the pictures and was very patient and cooperative with my instructions. (He is a chef, I was once a professional photographer). We had to wait a bit to get some of the pictures because the other people getting married wouldn't get out of our way. The nerve!

Apparently Marilyn Monroe got married to Joe Dimaggio there too. That's cool. We took the bus back to the hotel for a while and then had a great Italian dinner in a romantic restaurant. The Italian waiter was really funny and very Italian.

Later we met Steven and his girlfriend on the 39th floor of the Hyatt for a few drinks and a stunning view of the setting sun over the SF skyline.

I am so happy that this beautiful, fiesty, intelligent, woman who makes me laugh so much, actually married me. She married me!

Lucked out!

It was Tuesday morning and we were getting married the next day and we didn't have our marriage license yet. The certified translation was supposed to arrive soon because they overnighted it from Miami. I have been through many rush request for documents and tickets and did not expect anything to show up on time. If we did not get the translation, we would not be getting married and that would put a major kink in our plans.

Patrícia told me to call down to the desk to check after we got up. I did as I was told, even though I knew the answer, and was delightfully shocked to discover I was wrong. The package was waiting for us down stairs at the desk! We could get married now! I skipped on down to the desk, signed for the package, pour myself a cup of delicious strong coffee, and returned to the room with a smile on my face.

That lasted about 30 seconds. Time enough for me to open the package and see that while they did what they said they would in sending it, what they sent was worthless. No ATA certification, only a notarized letter saying that the translation was correct. We went to the City Hall to try to convince them to accept it. We tried and tried. No go. We ate and went back to the hotel.

Don't panic. Search the internet for an ATA translator in San Francisco. It took some time but I found one and made the call. She agreed to do it that night if she did not have to retranslate anything. We took a couple buses to south SF and found her building. As we were walking up the very steep hill, we saw a woman getting into her car in front of the place we were going. When we went up the steps and rang the bell, she got out of her car and said she was the translator and had forgotten we were coming. She almost left!

We sat in nervous anticipation as she checked the translation. One typo, nothing major. Fifty bucks later and we had our ATA certification. Whew! Two buses and 45 minutes back to the hotel. A long nervous day.

Translation Problems

We had an appointment to get our marriage license at 10am on Monday in the San Francisco city hall. The only thing we needed was ID and a translation of Patrícia's divorce. The divorce had to be translated by an ATA (American Translators Assoc.) according to the SF requirements. No problem. I had it translated by a big translation company that says they have ATA translators. When I dropped it off, I asked three times if it would be ATA certified and was assured that it would be. Can you guess what happened? Of course it was not an ATA certified translator and they said no marriage license.

We made many calls to the translation company and they said they would send a certified translation from their Miami office by Fed Ex.

We could not do anything else about the documents for the rest of the day, so we went to Golden Gate Park and had another delicious picnic, bottle of wine, and a nap in the soft, flower, sprinkled grass.

After that we strolled through the Haigt Ashbury neighborhood and watched the freaks and hippies.

Biking the Bridge

We jumped on the cable car to Pier 39 with an empty picnic bag, stopped at Trader Joe's to fill it up, and then rented a tandem bike on the pier. The guy that rented us the bike told us it was easy with just a few little hills. Uh huh. Don't believe it.













A tandem bike takes a little getting used to with the wide turning radius and two people who do not always lean the same way, but it was fine. We strapped our picnic lunch to the handle bars and off we went. We almost made it up the first hill without bailing. The next one closer to the bridge--no way. We, and everyone else, gave up riding. Then the bridge itself is uphill to the middle. You get a much better idea how big the bridge is when you ride over it. It is really really big with a span of 1280 m (4200 ft). It was wonderful going down the other side and around underneath it, but then it was a big hill to get into Sausilito. When we got into Sausilito we were tired. I found out later that we went 16 kilometers (10 miles).

We looked in a couple shops and then had a picnic in the park by the bay. Nice crusty french bread, genoa salami, brie, cobb salad, parmesan crisps, wine, and the most perfect strawberries I have ever seen and tasted in my life. Really, they were stunningly pretty and incredibly delicious. It was a perfect little picnic.

We took the ferry, with 200 other bikers, back to Pier 39. There was no way we could ride back. It was a great day.

Airport delays

We were delayed a few hours in São Paulo which made us miss our original connection in Miami so we were rerouted through Los Angeles instead of directly to San Franisco. It was a lot of flying and we were tired yet still very excited when we actually arrived in SF.

Trying to save money we took the Bart train from the airport ($5 each) to the Powell street station, only 3 blocks from our hotel. Three blocks uphill. It wasn't so bad though.

The King George Hotel is a nice smaller hotel with free wi-fi, good free coffee, and it is only a block from Union Square and the cable car line. We got a really quiet 7th floor room at the far end of the hallway. The view was of other buildings and Starbucks. The latter was not surprising since if you stand in front of one Starbucks in downtown SF, you should be able to see another one less than two blocks away.

I bought an unlimited week pass for the cable car for $24 because a single ride is $5--no transfers (ouch!) Then we rode up to China town, where most stores were closed by that time, and went into a sushi restaurant where the sushi was delivered on little boats in water that runs in front of the seating bar. They had big signs in their windows about 99 cent sushi! Liars! There was one thing that was that price and it wasn't fish. Everything else was much more expensive. We had a so-so udon noodle dish instead.

Back to the USA Via São Paulo

I have been through the airport in São Paulo many times but never got to see the enormous teeming city of 12 million or so people. I had much heard about the terrible traffic and violence so I was prepared mentally.

We had a 12 hour layover starting at 10am. Patrícia had a job interview at 2:30 so it seemed fine to run to the interview, see a few things and then return to the airport. We took the free TAM shuttle to the other airport (about 1 hour), which was much closer to her interview and then took a bus a bit further (45 minutes), grabbed some quick pizza, and jumped into a taxi for the rest of the way. The taxi driver didn't really know where he was going even with the Google maps we printed and she ended up being 15 minutes late to the interview. Unfortunately, I had to wait outside the complex on a bench because there was nothing anywhere near the place. The first hour of waiting was fine, the second hour tedious, and the third hour irritating. When she finally came out, she said the interview was only OK.

We no longer had time to see the city so we took a taxi to the train, made two transfers to get to the metro, and due to the bad directions we were given by a couple policemen, we made about six transfers on the metro to get to a bus to get to the airport. The metro was an experience during rush hour. I have been on 16 metro systems and have never seen so many people squeezing into the trains.

We arrived back at the airport right on time to check in for the flight to Miami. This is a surprise since we seem to have a bad habit of cutting it really close when we travel. Not surprisingly, the flight was delayed for two hours, now departing at 1am. So what to do for two hours before you leave for your marriage/honeymoon? We bought a bottle of wine in duty free, borrowed an opener from a bar, and celebrated. It was a good wait.

Leaving Brazil

They told me I could. That is my excuse for overstaying my tourist visa in Brazil. We have a stable union and have been actively pursuing a visa based on that. Just before my visa expired, I went to the Federal Police and they said I should just stay and go through the process. The only catch was that I have to pay the $420 visa overstay fine on my way out. Not so bad.

I went to the airport to the Federal Police Immigration and they were very friendly and neither surprised nor scolding for my extra year in the country. They did not ask questions, they only processed the fine payment. The worst part was the 3 pages of stamps that they put in my passport and the cancellation of my tourist visa.

Now the plan is to go to San Francisco, get married, register the marriage with the Brazilian Consulate, and apply for a permanent visa so I can return. The consulate says that it takes 4-8 weeks for processing so I am expecting to get everything done in two months or so.

Chapadas Veadeiros

We drove to Patrícia's sister's farm for the weekend, about two and a half hours away. The area is right next to a National Park called Chapadas Veadeiros that has many many waterfalls and beautiful hiking areas. It also has a Valley of the Moon that is just like the surface of the moon.

We stayed in one of the two little houses on the farm, relaxed, ate, played in the small lake, ate, and ate some more. For dinner we did 3 fondues: Wine for meat, cheese for bread, and chocolate for bananas. We wanted more fruit but the selection in the tiny nearby town was not good. What was really good was to cook the meat in the wine and then dip it in the cheese. Mmmmmmm fattening. I forced myself to drink several glasses of wine to counteract all the fat.

A friend of the family invited us to his resort the next day to play in the waterfalls. It was only a couple kilometers away and we got in for free of course. I was impressed, it reminded me a lot of places I have been to in Hawaii. The best part for me of course was jumping from the tallest thing I could find into the water. The water was a perfect temperature and 8 meters deep (25ft). You can see in the picture it had a huge cavern too. In the back of the cavern there was a tunnel that went to the middle of the back of the waterfall. Really cool.

I was in demand as a jumping partner for all the kids (and her sisters) because they wanted to hold my hand and have me there to help them swim after the jump. I do not know how many times I jumped, climbed up, jumped, climbed up, etc...I just know that my muscles really hurt now. Fortunately I escaped with only a light sunburn after being in the sun for hours.

One of the strange experiences of this area is that the tiny fish in the water always are nipping at your skin. It doesn't hurt, although it is a little unnerving at first.

The Long Way Back From the Beach

The drive to Guarapari was only 13 hours. The drive back was 15 due to traffic, although that was hardly the worst part of it.

There is always danger eating food from street vendors and beach vendors are even more risky. I think that the kiosks and bars are fine, but the guys walking along the beach with fresh oysters, for instance, deserve a bit more care. They get the oysters early in the morning, put them in a little basket, and walk around in the hot sun selling them. Patrícia and I had some one morning and they were the best I ever had, opened in front of me and served with lime juice and salt. Absolutely delicious!

The day before we left, Patrícia and André had some at about 10:00 in the warm sunny morning. Everthing was fine until the next day...when I packed the car, she was feeling bad and André looked particularly unhappy. Sure enough, 20 minutes into the trip home, he did an Exorcist immitation and vomited all over the door, the seat, the blanket, himself, the floor...

With my lovely woman feeling under the weather too, it was up to me to clean up the mess. Bleah. I came close to joining André in reviewing what I ate for breakfast. The poor thing had to endure about eight hours of twisty roads and he threw up six times, the last five in plastic bags, thank god. As for the rest of us, we had to smell vomit for 15 hours.

Road Danger

After waiting through a painfully slow traffic jam we passed a rolled over car in the middle of the road with one of the dead occupants still sitting in the back seat. The others had been thrown onto the roadside. We also saw a number of smaller accidents, however that was not what caught my attention. In driving so slowly, I had time to really look at the road. Specifically, all of the scratches in the asphalt from terrible accidents. On both sides of almost every curve, there were the marks of what must have been head-on collisions.

Finally arriving into a satellite city of Brasília at 3 am, I felt like I could relax with nice large, well-lit, familiar roads. Of course, that was exactly when someone, shooting out from a side street, clipped the car in front of me, smashing both cars and spinning them like tops to the side of the road.

Showering and getting into my own bed after 15 hours of smelly vomit driving was a pleasure beyond words.

New Years at the Beach

We were all dressed in our white New Year's clothes, me with my new very light beach shirt that I asked for and got for Christmas, white shorts, and flip-flops. We ate a big dinner that included rice and lentils for luck, drank a few glasses of wine, watched the big fireworks display that was on the beach, and then went to jump over seven waves and make seven wishes.

There is also a tradition of eating seven grapes and keeping the seeds all year, except the only grapes we had were crushed, fermented, and put into our glasses.

It was certainly the most memorable New Years I have ever had. I still want to spend one in Rio where they have two million people on the beach. It must be crazy.

The Beach in Guarapari

I have been to many beaches but I could not understand when Patrícia said we were going to sit in a beach bar all day. I wanted to be on the beach not in at a bar. Turns out that the beach bar is right on the beach and depending on the tide, almost in the water.

We always had a nice shady table with umbrellas or under a big leafy tree. She had told me about the food too, but again I did not understand. The bar where were had food and drinks and then there was all the food that passed by. There were fresh oysters opened at your table (best ever in my life), skewers of BBQ meat and seafood, corn on the cob, a guy that grills skewered cheese on a tiny BBQ, fruit popsicles, quails eggs, giant fried fish, giant fried balls of cassava root (as big as my fist) filled with shrimp, cheese, or meat, and more. And lots and lots of really cold beer.

This picture is of a big fish that has been deep fried, covered with shrimp and fried bananas. It comes with french fries, a tomato, bell pepper, and onion vinagrette salad, and farina, which is best described as a crunchy powder that adds a delicious texture to food.

Incredibly, I did not gain weight while I was at the beach because I swam so much. I did however cut up my feet and hands pretty good on the rocks when I went diving off the big rocks. I managed to avoid the thousands of sea urchins in almost every hole of the rocks.

As far as the beach itself, the sand was very fine, the water was just a little cool (perfect for the hot weather) and even when there were a lot of people, it didn't feel too crowded.

I loaded more pictures onto my Picasa site, click on the link to the right.

The drive to the beach

I was 13 hours of driving to the beach. I was strongly warned about the roads before we left. At first the roads were fine, then the rain came. If you have never been in a strong tropical rain it is difficult to image just how much water we are talking about. It makes driving a little dangerous, particularly when there are little mini-rivers running across the highway. A few times I could feel the car hydroplane a little.

Then came the section of road I would describe as craters of the moon. It was like a video game, trying to drive as fast as possible but swerving back and forth avoiding the larger suspension damaging and car swallowing holes. It was safer driving on the shoulder than on the road itself. This section was only about 25 miles long and the road got better. Strangely, I found the experience entertaining and a better part of the drive.

Then came the curves and curves. The problem was it was dark and raining intemittently and I was tired. It was draining. We passed a couple cars that had damaged their cars after hitting big holes. We also saw a dead motorcylist laying in the street and a few lesser accidents.

I was relieved when we arrived a little after midnight. Unfortunately, the kids slept most of the way and were awake while I only wanted to collapse.

Christmas in Brasília

We spent Christmas eve at Patrícia's parents house so we could eat, drink, be merry, see Santa, and exchange presents. Every year Santa stops by near midnight to give the children their presents. He spends his days at the big shopping mall in Brasília, but for about $60 he spends about half an hour handing out presents, talking to the kids, and posing for pictures. And not surprisingly, the children believe in Santa Claus because he really comes every year to personally give them their presents.

As midnight nears the kids go out in the backyard by the pool and sing carols up into the sky to call him. And miraculously, he appears in the livingroom with a sack full of presents. When it is time to go, they go back out by the pool to sing to him as he leaves and to watch his sleigh fly away. It is great fun and the kids are sooooo excited.

We went home early, around one, so we could get up early and drive 13 hours to the beach on Christmas day.