The first day in our lives in Sao Paulo

May 22nd, 2007 Posted by Tiff

We arrived in several pieces off the redeye flight from Washington. Having negotiated the customs circus we’re glad as girl guides at a cookiefest to see that Julio our guide has arrived to meet us.

Da dada dadaradara da dada dadaradara..

I’ve selected Aguarela Do Brasil as my theme tune and I samba my way through customs… after years of wondering and dreaming if it would ever happen, eu estou no brasil verdade!

We whizz through the metropolis in the early morning haze. Half asleep but with the buzz of adventure coursing through our veins. The vastness of the city seems distant and unimaginable and the pace is slow, as if the giant is dozing in the haze.
“it’s Saturday” says Julio, “everybody is chilling”.

An hour later we are having our first brazilian coffee… it tastes divine sharp sweet and creamy. Dougal’s mocha comes atopped with a typically flamboyant choc swirl.
We soak it up with fantastic scalding hot cheese pastries that take the edge off our jetlag.
The city is not at all what I expected: its wide elegant streets and smattering of colonial buildings and pastel colours are a pleasant surprise to the Bladerunner urban sprawl I had anticpated. Its laidback swing vibrates with the gentle hum given off by 18 million human souls.

That afternoon we slalom through the traffic to visit a fejoiada restaurant. Another tick on the list of things I’ve always wanted to do in Brazil. We’re hardly seated when the tray of Chopp Brahma arrives: draught beers are carried, nay, exalted on silver platters. Should anyone even feel an inklingzinho of thirst, glide over and a new ice cold Brahma arrives.

It’s a buffet and familes and friends are out for the afternoon and everyone from granny to os ninos are chatting and buzzing around the buffet table which is the centre of attention, shoving our way through the crowd it’s a tropical oasis of culinary joy.

Crunchy toasted crackling, some sort of diced greens, perfect white rice, fried sweet potato and of course the star of the feast the Brazilian national family favourite fejoiada made from fejao – black beans – and pork belly in a wonderful murky gloop. Slices of orange bring the zing to the show and the foodie house right down. It’s beleza believe me.

We all grab a batida poured from big glass jugs, choosing between the classic coco, passion fruit and pineapple flavours. Dougal gulps at his thinking it’s a smoothie. But this one ain’t innocent and Julio and I knowingly grin and wait for the kick…
“ooooooft” says Dougal, “its laced with a hefty dose of cachaca, better watch those at lunchtime.”

After lunch we whirl through the streets meeting a bewildering number of artists and musicians, most of whom seem to be experimental, futuristic and edgy in style.

Maurizio Takara invites us to his performance at the Virada Culturale, a 24 hour arts festival taking place in the city that day (and night). He’s providing a live soundtrack to the original, silent, black and white Nosferatu movie, an iconic film, outdoor in the middle of a graveyard. At 12 midnight. Get me a guarana and some of that…

Several brahmas, two caipirinhas and three hours later we’re in the middle of a hushed crowd at the cemetery. Weird glitchy ambient sounds fill the air as the gothic film noir plays onscreen. It’s simultaneously utterly not how I imagined Brazil and somehow exactly how I had imagined Sao Paolo.

At 1 am though, the night, like a vampire after a swift half of virgin sangue, is still young so, very much against Julio’s advice, we head down to the main square the Praca de Se for the climax of the festival’s outdoor concert.

It’s buzzing down there, Brazilian roasters/roastoes hang in doorways, bootydance in hiphop gear with girls with stoooopidly fine butts and there are barrels with ice and beer crammed to the top… “coca, agua, Brahma…”

We blag our way backstage thanks to our expertise from years of practice and Julio’s connections. Perhaps unsurprisingly the VIP is dull as usual. No one dances, maybe they’re tired of being sexy like CSS. Julio does the decent thing and leaves us in the middle of it all with his Brazilian Tara PT-like mate who is too timid to sneak us some beers in. Bad form Patsy, that’s yer card marked.

Citing Dougal’s tiredness (perhaps unconvincingly as he tries to climb over the barrier to punch the air when DJ Premiere takes the stage) we leave Patsy PT flirting with some fake homeboys and head back the main street a few blocks away.

Aaaaaaah bisto, that’s much better, street vibes going down, the way me and holmes Perman like it, crazy lycra clad chicas selling us tasty kebabs and a kid old taking the drinks orders and keeping us all topped up. Just like Glasgow really.

An intense card game with some old men is kicking off beside us- we check our watches, bloody hell granddad its 5am! Maybe the batidas for granny were a good idea after all.

Cute scene hey? Things got a bit hectic back down at the gig as Brazil’s biggest gansta rap crew Racionais MCs came on, but that’s another story. Eventually we decide to head back to the hotel, it being nearly dawn and as we have hardly slept since Glasgow.

Bem vindo no Brasil gringo Paulistos!

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