Hope all is well on your travels, and thanks for the photos!
This week we've been housebound by a nationwide lorry strike which has led to petrol shortages, blockades on the motorway, cancelled flights, price-gouging, siphoning and general unpleasantness which I've kept well away from in my cushy home-office job. It hasn't been the Mad Max-esque breakdown of society many have been anticipating - we were able to source ingredients for a butternut squash and cured meat risotto at short notice on Saturday, for example - but Gaby had to sit for hours in a queue to get petrol on Friday, and there doesn't seem to be an end in sight at the moment.
We did make it out on Thursday for Taynah's birthday party, at a fancy bar where the drinks are served in miniature bathtubs (with rubber crocodiles, if you please!), and I've tagged along to Gaby's home visits in Morumbi a few times, laying low in the Eldorado mall, apparently home to South America's largest gym.
I've gone done a mixtape, and my phrase of the day ("a fridge on one's back") refers to a psychological burden one has to live with - I learnt it in relation to the Liverpool goalie's match-scuppering blunders in the Champions League final, which also conjured up the ever-delightful imagery of "mãos de alface" / "lettuce hands" from the Brazilian commentators. Turns out it's a real thing too.
That'll be all,
Needle and Fred
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