This is great news for Manaus, and is likely to be the biggest thing to happen here since the rubber boom. The Federal government alone is pledged to invest $6bn Euro in the infrastructural improvements required (including a metro system – maybe even broadband internet – maybe even direct flights from Europe!!), and there will be further investment from State, Municipal and of course private funds. Even allowing for the inevitable losses through corruption and cronyism, this is a level of investment which cannot fail to change the face of Manaus forever. 
I think it’s fantastic news, and I’m very happy for the people of Manaus. And whilst it is against my nature to speak well of politicans generally, it would be remiss of me not to note that Amazonas State Governor Eduardo Braga and his team did a magnificent job of representing Manaus throughout the bidding process. Global financial crisis? What global financial crisis? Hooray for Manaus! It would of course be rather neat to see Northern Ireland (or Ireland or England or Wales or Scotland – not necessarily in order of preference) play here, but maybe that’s asking too much…
The other cities selected (see map) are Belo Horizonte (Mineirao stadium), Brasilia (Mane Garrincha), Curitiba (Arena da Baixada), Cuiaba (Verdao), Fortaleza (Castelao), Natal (Estrela dos Reis Magos), Porto Alegre (Beira-Rio), Recife-Olinda, (Arena Recife-Olinda), Rio de Janeiro (Maracana), Salvador (Arena da Bahia) and Sao Paulo (Morumbi).
http://fifa-world-cup-brazil-2014.com/fifa-world-cup-brazil-2014-stadiums.php
http://www.manauscopa2014.com/index2.php
We set off on day one at 05:30, fully laden with kit, spares and 125 litres of fuel. The 10-day plan was to cover 1000 kilometres of the Amazon and its tributaries as far as Codajas, which lies approximately 275km south west of Manaus on the Solimoes (Satellite image shows planned route for day 1). We were prepared to camp or sleep in the boat if necessary, but had planned a route which would hopefully enable us to overnight at some of the small towns en route – notably Anama, Anori and Codajas itself. 
Excellent, we thought! Anama here we come! We sped along the stream (anything that links anything with anything else is generally known as a “paraná”), enjoying sightings of dolphin, eagles…and quite a lot of trees…until, rounding a bend, we were confronted by a wall of floating grass and weed, stretched between the banks. We crept closer and tried to find a way through, but to no avail. The Brazilians call this stuff capim, and it is treacherous stuff – the floating grass grows in long fronds up to several metres in length, and if you get it wrapped round your prop, well, you’re going nowhere. This is irritating at best, but add the remoteness of some of our routes into the mix, and there was a possibility that if we got stuck in the middle of this stuff, we could potentially sit there for months. So we turned round, and did the only thing one can do at these times – made some coffee. 
To cut a looong story short, we ended up back-tracking 5km and ‘hanging a left’, from where we prodded and poked our way West, then South, then (worringly) North again, then (equally worringly) Northwest. Assisted by advice from what locals we encountered en route, we finally ended up at the town of Caapiranga at around 12:30. We weren’t lost exactly, but we were certainly ‘directionally challenged’. Every route we tried out of what is quite a major lake system, was blocked by the dreaded capim. We asked the locals and they pointed us this way and that. We faithfully tried this way and that and had to come back and report failure every time. Finally a very nice chap told us that in fact there was only one way through and that he was going in that direction and we could follow him. We decided it was worth a try – in fact we had reached a point where the only other viable options were returning to Manacapuru, now four or more hours away, or sleeping in the boat.
We've taken some time off from caiman wrestling and exploring to put our basement area in order, so as to be ready for any eventuality(!) As usual, having builders in is a bit stressful, but we’re happy enough with how it’s working out. The first 3 pics are of the area outside the bedroom we built down there last year (which is also being re-vamped at the same time), just after we started (yes- it looked alot worse). It will probably take another week for the work to be completed, but in the meantime, the final photo shows how it’s beginning to take some shape.
Kelly has given birth to 5 huge pups after one five-minute fling with Toto (her only fling with anything), rather putting us to shame. Never mind. Mother and filhotes are doing fine. 
Kelly is now 62 days pregnant (pic). Those of you who are up on your canine pregnancy facts will know that she is likely to “drop” within the next 3 days. Just what we need.
Whoever was responsible for the interior design of the Pizza Hut in Manaus, should be awarded the Architectural Ineptitude Award 2008. It must have taken a huge amount of thought to produce an interior totally devoid of curves, and an immense amount of dedication to select only materials with absolutely no sound deadening qualities at all, in order to generate that special fish-market-on-a-Wednesday-morning sound quality. Admittedly there were more than 4 customers when we were there, which is probably the minimum number required to really start to get the right effect of the clash of bouncing, echoing, harsh metallic sounds whizzing around and through you. It’s like the orchestra forgot to bring its instruments and decided to talk and shout its way through the 1812 overture instead.
As for the food, well, things are a lot better. The Pizzas almost taste the same as the PH standard, although of course the cheeses are made up from some crazy local recipe of flavoured rubber, and they don’t (at least didn’t) have any garlic (at all), and their version of pepperoni (I wonder about the etymology of the word – one might think it had something to do with PEPPER, but I could be wrong), just isn’t. Oh – and they don’t do Coca-Cola – just Pepsi (maybe that’s a PH-wide phenomenon now, I don’t know). AND they don’t serve wine (well why would you – after all, I can’t think that anyone would ever consider drinking wine with pizza or pasta, can you?).
Anyway, apart from that, it’s a really great place.
On the eve of my 50th birthday, our licence to adopt was granted. Those of you who know the ongoing adoption story will understand the significance of this. In the end, we only received the final documentation last week, hence the delay in reporting the news. Anyway, the licence - or habilitacao – is valid for two years and allows us to legally adopt through the Brazilian adoption system. We have now been placed on the list and are no. 67 out of 78(!) Of course there are other ways that things can happen (with the blessing of the authorities), and we may have some more news soon. I’ll keep you posted.
Naice and I went on another jolly in the Shamrock a couple of weeks ago (pics), and enjoyed a night or two away, sleeping in the boat in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing quite like it. On our way back, we visited a small island on one of the lakes near Naice’s brother’s house, and have discovered that it (along with a plot of land 1km x 1.3km) is for sale, at R$50,000 (currently about £16k). We are now investigating the possibility of buying it and building our own lodge on it. You know there may be a few things wrong about Brazil, but on the other hand where else could you buy your own island for the price of a hatchback, with views like those in the pics? Anyway, if anyone has £5k - £10k kicking around that they don’t need for a few years, let me know… Incidentally, the pagelayout editing on Blogger is K R A P, and the photos will be all over the place, I know. If anyone can recommend a better home for the blog, let me know. 
I’ve started making my own liqueurs, using the local sugar-cane hooch Cachaca and adding different regional fruit. Done on a very scientific basis (pic), I’m hoping that someday I will achieve worldwide recognition for the product (or if not, that it will at least be drinkable). To the right of the pic is the cheapest 40 proof drink in Brazil - the famous "51", and next to it the rather more refined version, "Sagatiba". 51 can be had for around R$3 a bottle; Sagatiba is approximately 5 times more expensive. In the foreground, Maguire's secret fruit mix...
Many of you will no doubt have wrestled at one time or another with the dilemma of what to do when you find a sloth on the road in front of you. All can now be revealed.
Following a very pleasant boat trip to the meeting of the waters with guests Alexander and son Jan, we were on our way back from the marina along a road that cuts through some jungle. Rounding a bend in the road, we were confronted by a small, three-toed sloth sprawled in the middle of the road like an old unravelling sweater (although they are good swimmers and excellent tree climbers, they can hardly walk at all). Since there was other traffic on the road toing and froing between the marinas and the main Avenida, the likelihood was that the critter would soon be squashed. But never fear! The Maguires are here! I leapt out of the car, while Naice put the hazard warning lights on and sounded the horn for the benefit of the other drivers. This was my first mistake. I rushed to the sloth and picked it up somewhat like you might pick up a child – that is to say face-to-face, securing the beastie with my hands under it’s armpits. This was my second mistake. Now it’s difficult to suppress one’s anthropomorphising tendencies when face to face with a cute little smiling face, slow-blinking brown eyes and big long arms waving about in distress. And for this reason, it took a few moments for me to critically analyse the hissing growl the little dear was emitting. And this was my third mistake.
This was one angry sloth, let me tell you, who obviously resented what to him must have seemed a wholly unnecessary intervention. So he did what any self-respecting angry sloth would do, and gripped me firmly with his toes. Not the sort of grip reserved for hanging around for days in trees, but the sort of gripped reserved for when your enemy comes at you with a sharp set of teeth. So he got me around both elbows and started to apply the pressure. The toes slowly sank into my skin and the blood rather more quickly started to pour out. Seeing this was a winning gambit, he endeavoured to get his legs into my sides, too. I started pushing him away with a force roughly equal to the force he was applying to draw me closer, so I found myself more or less strangling him, while his toes – nicely embedded now - started gouging out chunks of flesh. Another motorist stopped at this point, wound his window down, and shouted helpfully “watch out for his toes”. “Yes – thanks – I will,” I replied through gritted teeth.
Anyway, I managed to loosen my grip on him a little, and stop trying to push him away (it’s a bit like making yourself take your foot off the brake when your car starts to skid on the ice – sort of counter-intuitive), and rushed to the nearest shrubbery (as one does). Thrusting the two of us among the branches, all I could hope for was that he would prefer hanging on to a branch than crushing my arms. Fortunately I was right, and as soon as he lessened his grip on one of my arms I managed to spin him around a bit and direct the other limbs to other branches. And we parted company – he growling away to himself, and me trying to get some circulation back into my arms without leaving armfuls of blood on the road.
So there you have it. I doubt there are too many people who can claim to have been attacked by a sloth (or at least who would admit to it). I can’t say I’m proud of it, really, but I survived and learnt something. And now I can pass on this sage advice to those of you seeking the answer to your sloth-concerns: never pick up an angry sloth from the front.
Having so recently diced with death at the Hospital 28 de Agosto, we were most happy to celebrate the new year quietly by the pool…
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