First the flight. I was a slightly more nervous passenger than normal due to the poor condition of my passport but thankfully the Brazilian authorities were about as attentive as an England defender and let me pass just as easily as Phil Jagielka and co.
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| Seen better days |
Actually, my nerves were eased by a few beers in Munich en route and then by meeting a lovely Brazilian on the flight to Sao Paulo who proceeded to teach me some much needed Portuguese, the most memorable of which was 'safadinha' which I think roughly translates to slut/tart. Much needed in the weeks ahead no doubt.
This is ostensibly a travel blog so I won't bore you with too much football talk but this is my fourth World Cup and this one, like with the previous two, England went out within 48 hours of my arrival. Stop coming one England fan told me.
Mind you, given the condition of Steven Gerrard it was hardly a surprise that England exited at the group stage for the first time in 357 years.
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| Captain Fat-tastic |
First stop, Sao Paulo. Stayed for five days and the nightlife was great, daytime was fairly underwhelming and I am expecting better things for the rest of my trip.
Going to Ibirapuera park was one of my brief highlights but mainly brought about by this unusual statue.
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| Bestiality? |
I am sure that something very suspicious is about to happen to this pig but I can't quite put my finger on it. I will let you decide.
Anyway, Sao Paulo is good place to top up the carbs as they love to serve meat dishes with large amounts of both rice and chips as this hearty lunch illustrates.
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| Filling |
Anyway, enough of this boring cultural stuff about statues and culinary delights, I'm in danger of this sounding like a serious travel blog. I need to sprinkle some stardust on an otherwise boring blog so thank goodness I bumped into ITV's Andy Townsend (also former Norwich City, Chelsea and Aston Villa midfielder) in Belo Horizonte, my next stop on my World Cup tour.
I say bumped into, it was actually more a case of jogging past as he laboured on his morning run I sprinted past him like an opposing player used to all to frequently in his playing days. And to think he was the engine room of the Irish national side for the best part of a decade. There I was making him look like the has been he is. Though you wouldn't know it from the cheeky grin he gave me. Good lad.
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| Man about town |
While we're talking international greats, next stop Ronaldo. Not Cristiano but the fat one who is surely a part of the most appropriate advertising campaign for this World Cup. He's advertising biscuits.
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| The Fat Ron |
For my first night in Belo Horizonte I went for the MTV presenter look and I think I pulled it off quite well.
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| Brahma in hand |
There were two shockingly bad things I witnessed in Belo Horizonte. One was a Brazilian guy being given a good seeing to by the local police. Twenty policemen with bats and one guy without a bat suggests only one winner. But why they kept bashing him when he was on the ground pleading for mercy beggars belief.
The other shocking thing was the English national side who at least had the good grace to recognise the supporters who made the trip in the vain hope of some on the pitch success.
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| Appreciation but still rubbish |
Oh well, at least the locals know how to party and they love their beer. The beer was certainly flowing at the house party I went to as we watched Brazil thrash Cameroon 4-1. Notice the local delicacy Pao de Quejo (Cheese pastry balls) in the centre of the picture.
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| Beer and cheesy balls |
And before anyone starts to think this trip is just about beer, football and pastries (as good as that may sound), I appreciated the art on offer too.
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| Art |
A doll's head and severed leg, some mash potato, a plastic glove and a paint brush. Just another day at the museum of modern art. Well, actually it was on a pub wall, but art is art.
And at the end of a tiring day doing all these great things there's nothing better than relaxing in front of the tv with Brazil's best beer, Paulistania, and watching the football.
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| Odd socks |
What? Why travel 6000 miles and do what you could do at home? Because how else would I bother you with inane blogs like this.
