Everything is not what it seems

The lady gestured in the general downward direction. Following her gaze we found ourselves looking down an abandoned, ill-lit street. A feeling of slight alarm slithered from my stomach up to my throat.
- Is it safe?
- Safe?
- You know, safe to walk down this street...
- Hm. Well. Maybe not. That's true. It's quite steep and it has recently rained. You really should be careful girls!
Oh Rio de Janeiro, how we don't miss you!

For those of you curious to our whereabouts: you find us in the Brazilian hinterlands, in Ouro Preto. A sugar coated UNESCO world heritage town, that might as well have been commisioned by Disney himself. Cobbled streets are lined by perfectly maintained - so not Brazil! - colourful houses and colonial churches with more bling than your average rap video. Then sprinkle in palm trees, buzzing humming birds, and never tiring percussion music. However, Ouro Preto's luxury and lushness have been preceded by some rather unsavory history. Generations of African and Indian slaves laboured themselves to death in subterranean gold and mineral mines. Nowadays, their genes well scrambled with many a European and Asian one, it's hard not to marvel at the cacaphony of facial features and skin colours. Which we do well, for hours on end, while slurping our Vitaminas milkshake at the local square. What can I say? Slowing down Brazilian style came very natural to us.

Now that we're on the topic of inactivity. At the nearby village of Lavras Novas the men are so lazy, that even if you would show up at the altar in a wedding gown, they'd be too lazy to put the ring on your finger. Inertia abundantly reigned the streets, like never witnessed before. Don't even bother looking for a huband-to-be at this godforsaken end of the road. For our observant readers: no, indeed, we didn't get proposed to for a full morning and afternoon. So waterfalls or no waterfalls, we quickly took the only bus back out. Where we got two indecent offers in ten minutes - thank god, almost getting insecure here!

Another lasting memory was the Caraça monastry. Not in the least because we managed to launch the rental car over an invisible speedbump, all fours detached James Bond style. Then, car leaking fluids, we needed to lie our way past various checkpoints. For none of which we had the required papers cq. reservations. This adventure of course involved some men. But on this occasion indecency was to be found in never ceasing Catholic priest jokes - yes, yes, low hanging fruit, we know. Reason for the excursion: more waterfalls, plus the Lonely Planet eloquently promised us throngs of wolves being fed St. Francis style. Well. It turned out to be a lone wolf. Which should actually be re-classified as fox. With a preference for banana in stead of meat. And he kept us waiting on the church steps for hours. But sharing this odd experience with about fifteen local and foreign tourists and some bottles of wine was great fun though. And the oversized fox was undeniably impressive. To cleanse our souls and recapitulate the day, Yan/Jan engaged us in a proper pre-bed, bathroom-lit bible reading. Amen.

We have another saintly encounter to report on, but that'll be for next time.

P.S. This post is a little late due to internet problems