Day 5 - Part 2

Saturday 6^th November 2010 (part 2)

Thud thud thud thud goes the collective sound of our heads!

We went back out and found the same bunch of lads we were drinking with all day, I have never – ever – stopped a drinking session to do laundry! I must be married.

The lads were Gary, a 56 year old bloke from Aberdeen,

John, a 29 year old Glaswegian,

                                     (we don't have a picture of John)

                                           

 a few other Scots that we forget the name of and Jimmy Bianci a 67 year old American bloke who had his own body guard with him.

The Scots all worked in the oil industry and Jimmy owns all of the helicopter tours that go up to Christ the Redeemer and Sugar Loaf. He also flew choppers in Vietnam, he was a real character. He drank scotch (really good scotch, he bought me one, it was gooooooodddd) from 2pm until midnight and said things like “you’re married?? Who to?? Awwww aint she cute as a whip!”  I have no idea if that was a compliment.

Some of the Scots had been living here for over 10 years and always get together on a Saturday to watch Celtic trounce whoever they happen to be playing that week. The beer flies around fast and everybody buys everybody else a beer or 3. Even though they have been here years and learnt the Portuguese language, none of them have dropped the Scottish accent. Listing to a Scot receive his beer and say O-B-L-I-G-A-D-O (thank you) in an Frankie Boyle type accent was hilarious. The families turn up at full time for a quick drink (wife, kids, mother in law) and then take the family men home leaving the rest of them to drink themselves senseless. Seems like a pretty nice life to me. Although it may have been exaggerated today seeing as it did not stop raining.

We drank and chatted the night away with John and Gary and continued to get more and more drunk, (John incidentally has a Brazilian girlfriend who wants him to stop drinking and get fit, he’s a 29 year old Glaswegian!! Good luck with that) at one to point John fell down after some more chilli tequila.

I offered to put his Flip Flops back on for him and he looked at me like I had suggested nipping off to the toilet together, so I left him to it.

Gary eventually coerced John into a cab and we left the Mexican Bar

(well, we did after Jimmy bought us another drink, he insisted and so did his bodyguard) and headed for Lord Jims, a nightclub a few blocks away.

When we arrived I decided that all the beer, scotch, tequila and bourbon had hit me all at once and that we needed to go home. In Rio they don’t charge you to get into clubs, they charge you to leave, which confused me and Suz a little and ended up in a row, with the manger (I left Suz to it). After a short but loud exchange we decided that instead of getting buried in a Favala, we’d much rather get a cab home and grab some food, so we paid the charge (£4 each) and left.

 Today we’re off to watch Fluminese Vs Vasco de Gama, as soon as Suzi peels her head off the pillow.