taxi, alcohol & a motorbike - Thursday 19 June

Our hostel receptionist Phillipe was worried that I´d be in danger on my own in Santa Theresa. Ofcourse, I went alone and took a tram from Centro (the most mugged area) with my eyes peeled at all times. Male locals stare, however women are quite friendly. They talk to me in Portugese and I nod with a response of ´si, si`. With a feeling that I´m not really blending in I catch the next taxi that comes my way. I pay him to show me the area. He pretendsto understand my broken spanish. Then takes me to a corner shop while he asks someone to translate for him. We had already agreed the price! He took me everywhere up a hill to a helicopter spot. Such a great view.

At night, I went out for Thai food with Dom and Amy, we met their friends who were celebrating a birthday. You have to do something pretty terrible not to be welcome somewhere with travelers. Luckily I wasn´t intruding. Hostels are such friendly places.

I went back to the hostel and left them out samba-ing. My plan for a quiet night ended up drinking, and singing to Rafael while he played the guitar, and riding on the back of the security guards motorbike. There was a communication breakdown somewhere - I thought we were going around the block but he took me a few blocks down through tunnels and pedestrian walkways past people sleeping on the streets, and to a bar. He bought us a capiriniah and I suggested that we leave in cinco minutos. Another miscommunication, he wanted to go to the club next door and thought I was going to gather everyone in the hostel up to come clubbing - in the favellas! We got back and Rafael translated for me. All understood, he left for the club alone, upset.