15.03.16 - Animal de estimação

Bom dia! The birds are swaying, the trees are singing... 

Not a whole lot to report this week, with work taking centre stage and Gaby elbow-deep in psychology manuscripts... On Saturday I sought out a practice studio up the road which was rather fun - wolfing down a burger at a nearby '50s diner before strumming my way through the hits - although I had to strain to hear myself over the Pearl Jam cover band bleeding through from upstairs.

Then on Sunday I was all set to join Gaby and the in-laws to march on the Avenida Paulista and protest the government's evil machinations - the largest such rabble in the city's history, apparently - but had to stay at home instead and work all day on a vehemently anti-EU doctrine prepared by Patrick and his lawyer pals. Still, it looked impressive on the news/Facebook. 

Driving continues apace despite my instructor oversleeping yesterday and missing half the lesson - I've been deemed roadworthy on all aspects of the test individually, now it's just a case of putting it altogether into a seamless choreography, perhaps culminating in a triple backflip pike out the car window at the end.

Elsewhere I've made another fiendishly eclectic mix for your listening pleasure (https://play.spotify.com/user/freddypowys/playlist/6Z4HHnZDVSCAI0idQ4XAWX), and while I don't have a proverb this week, I thought it rather wonderful and worth sharing that in Portuguese, a pet is an "animal of estimation"...

Speak soon, on the happy occasion of your various birthdays. Até mais, Minas Gerais!

Fred

08.03.16 - Pisar na bola

Good morrow! 

A relatively quiet week on the Western front, as work and driving lessons continue apace - yesterday I started training an approximation of the 5-minute circuit I'll be doing for the test, which involves parking very slowly between two cones (a valuable life skill, no doubt) and doing lots of hill-starts, which I'm just about getting the hang of.

Taken during "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds",
when the drugs began to take hold.

On Saturday we went to the Sambadrome (by way of a baby shower for one of Gaby's mates, to efficiently distribute nappies and good cheer) for a "Carnaval Hangover" show involving Sargento Pimenta, the world's #1 Samba Beatles tribute band (probably), who were ruddy excellent and delved into the back catalogue with stuff like "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" and "I Am The Walrus" among the more well-known hits (a never-ending, multi-section romp through "Yellow Submarine" was a particular highlight). The evening then devolved into irritating EDM, but we made a hasty retreat and gorged on pizza at an all-night padaria, as was the style at the time.

On Sunday we drove to the gridlocked Avenida Paulista en famille for lunch with Ridaut's Etihad pilot chum Jean-Luc, who was in town between flights and allowed me to give my French a much-needed run-out over an all-you-can-eat buffet (and has invited us to his private beach in Abu-Dhabi, which is always nice). Then we met up with the extended family in an amazing new Italian food emporium called "Eataly", which was sadly wasted on me as I was already stuffed to the gills with dressed crab and chocolate mousse, but is definitely worth another visit at some point.

I have also returned to my compilation-making ways (https://play.spotify.com/user/freddypowys/playlist/1Sqvam8nfPKpc9Kmpzc25t), and have a new expression of the week, which means "to step on the ball", i.e. do something wrong which usually involves letting someone else down (or "drop the ball", if you will).

Hope all well in Antibes/St-Denis; what say you we speak on Thursday, weather and dust permitting? 

Ciao for now!

Fred Rum

01.03.16 - Nem pintado de ouro quero te ver

Guten tag, meine kartoffelkopf - hope all well across the Atlantic. 

The headline news here is that I've finally started my driving lessons, albeit at the crack of dawn and on alternating days only, due to scheduling difficulties and general bitterness and unrest at the driving school. So far I'm pleased to report that it's all coming back to me; I've only stalled the car a few times, my instructor has already invited me to stay at his brother's house in Rio, and is considering taking me out on the motorway during our next session, which is a little more advanced than I was led to believe but can only be a good sign. 

 On Saturday we were planning to walk to the Pedra Grande (or "Big Rock") overlooking the city but obviously it was raining, so we went for a stroll along the Avenida Paulista instead, stopping for burgers and a wander through the Livraria Cultural. We also visited the nearby Parque Trianon, which was very green and peaceful despite an abundance of massive spiders, which freaked Gaby out a bit and ultimately led us to fall back to the street. Then in the evening we ended up at an Irish pub, imaginatively called Dublin, quaffing Guinness as the house band pulled off a pretty decent cover of "Bohemian Rhapsody", among others.

Elsewhere work is rattling on at a fair pace - we're planning our next think tank knees-up at Cliveden House and are trying to arrange a date that suits everyone, probably mid-November. Gaby is a-mastering away; I made another coconut cake, which was a total success this time and has inspired me to further baking exploits (when I can be bothered to get round to them); and yesterday we watched a bit of Globo's coverage of the Oscars, which went viral once it became clear that the leading soap actress who was doing the commentary either didn't like, didn't understand or simply hadn't seen any of the films in contention. 

My saying of the day means "Even if you were painted in gold I wouldn't want to see you", which is a very vivid way of describing a falling-out (and a minor hit for the late accordion-botherer Cristiano Araújo, since you ask) - I like to imagine someone who's exhausted every possible way of winning someone back, and decides to paint himself gold as a last resort. I got it from my instructor, who was telling me about the ongoing feud between the driving school's owner and his son-in-law, although I missed the whole story as I was trying not to get run off the road at the time.

That's all for noo. Speak soon, bassoon!

Fredders

23.02.16 - O seguro morreu de velho

Greetings from the streets of old São Paulo - jolly good to speak the other day, and hope you're not letting the dust and/or cold get you down.  Work is all go here, Gaby's started her Masters (and her therapy Facebook page, psychology fans), the cats have gone utterly mad, and otherwise all is well. 

I also found time to tear up the Thursday night football form book, hitting a ruthless attacking streak with five goals in five games - we only won one, but twas all good fun plus I got talking to a fellow musician over post-game MEAT and BEER, and he's going to take me busking on the Avenida Paulista once my guitar is fixed.

On Friday I made a "bolo podre", or "rotten cake", plucked from the pages of Granny Diana's Brazilian cookbook; it was only moderately successful and fell apart once it left the mould, but I reckon the next one should be damn tasty - lots of coconut, vanilla, condensed milk and a rather yummy coffee drizzle (my nizzle).

At the weekend we went to the in-laws for savoury pancakes and passion fruit mousse, in between lots of flopping about; on Saturday we went to a rather posh Thai restaurant in town with Giorgio and Beth, for a rather nice fish curry and Aperol Spritz's as big as your head; and on Sunday night we went to the wake of Gaby's friend's uncle, which was rather sobering. Next weekend we're going to trek up to Pedra Branca (a big rock in the woods overlooking the whole city), then on to a Carnaval revival event, featuring Samba Beatles! Weather permitting.

Today's phrase is the equivalent of "better safe than sorry", but translates as "the safe man died of old age", which seems a slightly morbid way of putting it. And on that note...

Ciao for now!

Frow

16.02.16 - Aceita que dói menos

Hallooo! 

Lovely to speak/sing to you yesterday, and glad you had a whizzy jolly time for yer birthday. Also, just got your package full of books, which was a pretty great way to start the day - so thanks! As it happens I've just started "The Magus", but once I've breezed through that I'll follow up with "Against The Day" for some more light reading...

 I had a quite splendid weekend, which kicked off with a visit to the Mercadão on Friday afternoon, to stock up on obscure ingredients and scratch a tourist-y itch to eat one of those massive mortadella sandwiches on the balcony while the Queen's Golden Jubilee concert played on nearby screens (that last bit wasn't part of the plan but I rolled with it). Now I have everything I need to make my tapioca-and-coconut cake (once I get a minute) and we ended up walking through the restaurant-supplies district, so now I know where I can get a pasta mill or industrial deep-fat-fryer at short notice.

Then on Saturday we grabbed the cats and went to the eerie apartment complex in Guarujá, hit the beach and swimming pool almost immediately, and spent the rest of the weekend in an ice cream-induced food coma, sipping bubbly by the pool and eventually heading back, screaming cats in tow.

Since then work has ramped up again, but at least everyone is slowly getting back to business after the Carnaval period so I don't feel too left out - we've just been to shout at the driving lessons people so maybe that'll start soon, who can say. "Just accept it and it'll hurt less", as the saying/e-mail subject goes.

We speak soon!

Frod

09.02.16 - É muito venha a nós e ao vosso reino nada

AND A GOOD DAY TO YOU SIR!

Carnaval is in full swing here, although I've been housebound the whole weekend editing bile-filled Newsletters for work, missing out on a whole host of fun in Aldeia da Serra and Itu (which, from what I gathered from Gaby's updates, is like Aldeia da Serra but with slides and waterfalls). While the whole country has Friday - Tuesday off, I didn't even get so much as a day to myself the whole time, and have to cope with the pool being permanently full of screaming infants outside to boot. Not that I'm bitter.

I did manage to briefly escape on Saturday afternoon to a bloc party in the Zona Sul, which reminded me of the Notting Hill Carnival only hotter and stuffed to the gills with costumed revellers; to be honest I was more focussed on my sockless mocassins, producing skin-flaying agony with every step, than the actual event, but it looked like fun. Next year I fancy going to the procession in Recife, where they have a giant chicken on a bridge.

On Friday night we went to Andre and Dani's apartment for pizza and a viewing of their wedding video (for both weddings, natch); Saturday was Luiza's 12th birthday so we went for a pizza en famille; and Sunday marked a watershed moment when, for the first time ever, I not only stayed awake until the end of the Superbowl but actually had a vague understanding of what happened too.

In my confinement I put together another compilation, and uncovered another saying which, in rather convoluted terms, applies to deals that could be considered one-sided ("it's very, everything for us and to your kingdom nothing!" Or something like that).

Anyway, hope all well with you. Good luck with the wall-cutting, and let me know when you're up for a chinwag on the ol' Skype.

Fred Out

02.02.16 - Falar pelos cotovelos

Bom dia! 

Glad to hear you're all moving and shaking on various fronts, all very groovy.  I myself spent the weekend sitting by the pool at Bruna's luxury compound in Aldeia da Serra, chain-eating barbecued meat and sunning myself on a giant inflatable Havaiana lilo, as Gaby's schoolfriends came and went, gossiping, crowdsourcing whirlpools, playing Marco Polo and throwing Bruna's mum in the pool. All most fun, and Bruna's mad dad has pledged to take me to his hometown for Carnaval next weekend, apparently whether I want to go or not.

Since then Gaby's started a new work/life regimen, which includes powerwalking down the middle of the Bras Leme avenue to unwind in the evening; it was quite an eye-opener and we passed legions of joggers, cyclists, aerobics classes, coconut water vendors and samba drummers (although the latter get everywhere, to be fair) taking in the night air, before doubling back past literally hundreds of restaurants for mounds of delicious salad at home. 

Next week brings all the temptations of Carnaval, but given our extravagances at New Years and Gaby's impending Masters, I think we'll be taking it easy this time - maybe the odd trip to the beach, or foray into one of SP's many bloc parties. It's too hot to really consider leaving the house at the moment, let alone make grand plans.

I learnt my saying du jour last night; it means "to speak to the elbows", and applies to people who talk to excess (to the extent that they have to keep tapping people's elbows to keep their attention from wandering, apparently). I like it, and want to use it more often in conversation. I speak to you soon, yes? 

Yes.

Fred