28.02.17 - Em rio que tem piranha, jacaré nada de costas

'ello 'ello 'ello,

Lovely to chat yesterday - as I mentioned we're currently in the throes of moving further down the road, in a last-ditch attempt to escape dogs and building work before one of us snaps...  The new flat is looking good, and just needs a few minor tweaks before we can move in at the weekend, plus it's next door to a cemetery and - as the saying goes - dead men tell no tales and don't drill and hammer right above your head for six straight weeks. 

We've already made what is probably the first of many trips to the hardware store, whose most striking feature is a sort of "paint bar" where you order two gallons of "Desert Rose" or "Silver Shore" and the barmen mix it all together using computer wizardry and a massive centrifuge machine, while I thumb through the sample book and crack "50 Shades of Grey" jokes that they've almost definitely never heard before.   Here feels like a good place to register our shock and disgust at the price of bathroom fittings, which I can only assume were all hand-crafted by Nepalese artisans and imported by Lear jet. 

Such thrills and spills mean we've missed out on Carnaval completely, but with the rain it sounded like a bit of a wash-out this year; I'll do an in-depth expose on the blood, sweat and tears that go into the yearly processions... some other time. In the meanwhile I've thrown together a new compilation (hope it works!), and this week's phrase translates as "in a river full of piranhas, the alligator swims on his back", i.e. it's worth defending your weak spots in tough situations.

That will be all - will send lots of photos once we're settled in next to the stiffs...

Burn That Broken Fred

21.02.17 - Entrar de gaiato no navio

Tally ho me old China, hope all well in the ol' South of France. With building work still raging overhead and Gaby's new job kicking up a notch, I tagged along last week as she visited a bunch of shopping centres around town and grilled iStore employees as to why they weren't raking in the cash.  

They ran the gamut from the decidedly run-down mall in Guarulhos, where Gaby got funny looks for wearing proper shoes, to the outrageously posh Cidade Jardim - a sort of open-air Hanging Gardens of Babylon/Starship Titanic behemoth by the Ary Torres bridge, where in the space of a few hours Gaby witnessed several clients wandering in and buying new iPhone 7's, in cash, on the flimsiest of pretexts (strangely there was also a dirt-cheap sale of English-language books going on next door, which I took full advantage of).  We ended up napping in the JK Iguatemi car park on Friday night to avoid rush hour traffic, before heading to a colleague of Ridaut's for pizza.

At the weekend we got back to our roots with a trip to the Pacaembu market for a pastel or five, followed by a now regular trip to the Horto Florestal on Sunday morning for a brisk stroll (was glad to note that the capybaras are back from their hiatus and munching away on water lilies). In other news we grow ever closer to ditching Dogtown, SP for quieter quarters, hopefully some time this week; and Carnaval is in full swing but neither of us are that bothered - I fully expect to have to work through it, and Gaby is focussed on picking the right shade of wallpaper (not to mention her course starting up again), so we're giving it a miss this year. 

My phrase of the week - "to board the boat on a whim/as a lark" - means to sign up for something without the necessary experience, and end up winging it with mixed results.  I've also gone done another compilation, which should be listened to LOUD, to drown out the HAMMERING and DRILLING.

Speak soon!

A Rush of Blood to the Fred

14.02.17 - Ser unha e carne

Hallooooo,

Hope all well witchu...  Building work continues apace overhead, as we seek ever more inventive ways to flee the house during the day, but we've found a promising lead at a rather nice flat down the road, so fingers crossed that the paperwork pans out with that and we'll be a-movin' soon.

The weekend saw trips to São Caetano do Sul for Luiza's birthday party, which was full of screaming teenagers but also meat ("carne louca", or "mad meat", to be precise), to the talking pictures to see "La La Land" (oh how we waltzed and tried ineptly to tap-dance afterwards), and to the park for a wander with Gaby and her grandma, featuring more monkeys and a very overheated cat.  I was also asked to film an experimental hydro-ballet class underwater at the gym using Ridaut's GoPro, as you do.

No compilation this week (unless you're interested in a mixtape of the best drilling and hammering moments from the past week?), so you'll have to make do with my phrase of the week ("to be nail and flesh"), which is roughly equivalent to two people being "hand in glove", i.e. very close indeed...

Speak soon!

Three Colours: Fred

PS: I kid, I kid - here's this week's compilation, ready in the nick of time.

07.02.17 - Se acercar vira hospício, se cobrir vira circo

Halloooo,

Building work continues merrily on overhead, so I write to you a from a nearby café - to be honest it's not much quieter here (there's a guy making endless smoothies just yards away) but at least I have some kind of agency over my surroundings... 

On Sunday Gaby and I went to a possibly-monthly gathering of musical types in a Zona Sul studio, where I unleashed weeks of pent-up dog-and-building-related rage on the drums, as my colleagues worked their way through a grunge-based repertoire.  It's slightly bizarre how whenever two or more men are gathered together with guitars over here, then they will earnestly emote to "Black" by Pearl Jam; I also had to quickly remember how to Grohl along to "Aneurysm" by Nirvana.  In any case, good fun was had by all.

Earlier in the week Gaby and Patricia pitched their psych wares to the latter's former company, which I'm told went quite well.   On Saturday we went to a tapas bar on fashionable Rua Augusta, complete with kilos of jamón dangling from the roof-beams, for a masters-er's birthday party, followed by another brisk walk through the Horto Florestal the following morning (no monkeys this time though, and the capybaras seem to have been evicted).

I have made another compilation for your ears only, and my phrase of the week - "if you put a wall round it, it's an asylum; if you put a roof on it, it's a circus" - snidely refers to the nation's political establishment in Brasilia, and of course could be applied to any number of administrations at the moment. 

And I'm spent... 

Fredders