24.11.15 - Todo mundo vê as pingas que eu tomo, mas não os tombos que eu levo

'Sup y'all,

Quite the eventful week we've been having; on Thursday I woke Gaby up with a birthday picnic basket full of gorgeous things (including post-diet chocolate cake, although I ended up eating most of that) and caused a stir on social media with a jaunty One Direction cover in Portuguese (thinking of following it up with a song for Ridaut's birthday next month, to the tune of "With or Without You"...). 

Then there was barely time for a two-hour nap before we dolled ourselves up for the wedding of one of Gaby's schoolfriends in the evening, which featured a crazy Southern-preacher-style oration as thunder crashed overhead and everyone knelt and put veils on their heads (7th-day Adventist tradition, apparently), a full-blown choir and string quartet blasting out Moon River, and an actual music video featuring the lucky couple serenading each other over a photo retrospective. I think we'll tone ours down a bit in comparison, but fun was certainly had by all.

We were up early the next day to load up Ridaut's car with beach gear and two terrified cats, and drive to Ubatuba (a fun place to visit and to say, even). Met up with Claudio, who sends his regards and had rather inconsiderately sold his boat the day before, settled into a beach-house-style chalet by the marina, made pizza for everyone amid relentless banter from Ridaut and Claudio, and hit the beach, where I was battered around by waves and had a generally awesome time of it.

The rest of the weekend was spent piling into the back of Claudio's van (along with surf equipment and small children of unknown origin, saluting passers-by from the open door) and heading to the nearest beach, where I dabbled in "stand-up" (the giant surfboard/rowboat variety, not the comedy), took strolls to other, slightly different beaches, gorged on açai and tried to become slightly less blindingly white. Access to a boat and the remoter islands of the region would have been nice, but you just can't get the staff these days...

We headed back on Sunday night and have since been putting our house in order; the Vienna Event Horizon looms ever larger and I still have some last-minute Christmas shopping to do, but things are shaping up nicely for my European tour. 

This week's proverb translates roughly as "everyone sees me drinking but no one sees me falling over", meaning "everyone sees the fruits of my labour but not the labour itself", which I found particularly apt in this Instagrammed age. I pointed out that in this metaphor, the labour confusingly comes after the fruits (i.e. the falling over comes from a surfeit of drinking), but I think the "falling" in question refers to the general pitfalls of life, which makes sense, I suppose. I don't know, I don't write this stuff...

See you soon! Maybe before the next one of these e-mails - may it serve you well until then. Ubatuba or not t'Ubatuba, that is the question.

Fred