Back again

Hello All. After another prolonged absence, I’m back online again. Apart from being very busy over the last couple of months, most recently I was away on a two week expedition up the Amazon (up the Solimoes, to be more precise). This was successfully concluded on Thursday and partner in crime Mark has now flown back to the UK. I will write more about this in due course. We now also have several projects on the go, about which I also plan to write when they’re a bit more concrete. Just give me a few days to re-orientate myself and respond to the considerable volume of e-mail in my inbox and I’ll be right with you…

Policy on Abusive Comments

Somewhat bizarrely, the blog has been targeted by an abusive contributor (I know – it’s amazing, isn’t it?). Anyway, I don’t want to waste too much time on this sort of filth, but feel obliged at least to issue a short clarifying statement for the benefit of anyone considering posting abusive, threatening or otherwise inappropriate comments in the future: your IP address and message content will be saved on file for investigation; your comment(s) will be deleted immediately from the blog; and of course you will not influence the content of the blog – past, present or future - by as much as a single full stop. (With apologies to the other 2278 valued readers from Brazil, the USA, the UK and 24 other countries around the world).

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,

Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit

Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,

Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it

Our building photos

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.

There. I knew you’d be interested!

Kelly

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.

Happy birthday to Naice...

It's Naice's birthday today. And guess what - she's 21 (again). Happy birthday Naice!

It's also the birthday of our friends Zaira and Fanny (also both turning 21, of course...) Happy birthday to you too!

What a lot of birthdays on 11th February...and my sister Victoria celebrates her 21st tomorrow. So birthday greetings in advance to her too!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

Kelly

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.

Anyone want a puppy..?

Pizza Hut Manaus (or ‘how not to design a building’)

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.

Technoblob

The Bravenet webstats tell me that 2,058 different people have viewed this blog now. Amazing.

Licensed to Adopt!

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.

Another Jolly

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.

The pic below shows us collecting ice from the nearest “ice station” (no – not Zebra – you’re showing your age, whoever thought of that). It may not look it, but the system is brilliantly simple and functional. There is also a mechanism for payment involving a clever system of ropes and pulleys. All this for only R$3 for 5 kilos.

Moonshine down on me

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...

Hot off the press – Pizza Hut Manaus photos

I enjoyed my birthday meal, thanks to Naice, Charlie and Annick (photo 1), Charlie and Annick's son Sammy and girlfriend Christine (photo 2).

Comments on the Pizza Hut itself to follow…

Does this dog look guilty?

Well she damned well should (see earlier post - Toto Poll II).

It’s my birthday

Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me…

Naice is taking me to the new PIZZA HUT tonight! Oh, it’s all very well for you lot to scoff, but if you had to put up with Manaus pizzas for a year or so, you’d be looking forward to it too. I also got a nice new waterproof watch - boating, for the use of - and lots of e-cards (and two good old-fashioned paper jobs as well). Thanks for all your sarcastic comments about my advanced years and the various suggested presents such as pipe, slippers and Viagra (an interesting combination).

I’m looking forward immensely to the next fifty years.

How not to handle an angry sloth

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.

And incidentally, if you want to know how I know it was a 3-toed sloth, I would respectfully refer you to the above photo of my elbow, two weeks on.

Happy New Year

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…

So Happy New Year to everyone from Naice and I!

Visit to the Hospital 28 de Agosto

I don’t want to dwell on this too much, but one morning I was in the kitchen - I think it was the 28th December - chatting to one of our guests. After bending down to get some milk out of the fridge, I “took a funny turn”. Why do we use this expression - there’s nothing funny about feeling the lights go out and the floor speeding towards you at a suboptimal rate!? Anyway, I was led to the sofa by Naice and the guests, and we ummed and ahhed about what to do while my life force ebbed and flowed, and finally agreed it would have to be a visit to the hospital. I was bundled into the car (waiting for an ambulance here is an experience only the healthy onlookers can survive) and off we went. I’ll condense the rest of this, ‘cause it really is something to forget about if one can – first stop, childrens’ hospital – oops. Next, ambulance (hey!) to the public hospital. Bed, needles, nurses, doctors, poking, proding, waiting, x-rays, ultra-sounds, blood tests blah blah. Naice went off to get me a pillow and blanket (none of this in the hospital) and we got to stay the night. More needles, nurses, doctors, poking, proding, waiting, x-rays, ultra-sounds, blood tests blah blah next day. Still feeling shite, but preferring to die at home, ended up telling everyone I felt like a spring lamb and could they let me out now please? After some persuasion, they did.

Unfortunately Naice had gone off to town with the guests (well, I mean, we have to look after them too, don’t we?), but not wishing to delay things, I took up my bed (well, pillow and blanket anyway) and staggered out the front door to the nearest café. After a cup of coffee and a burger (no food for 24 hours by this stage), I thought I was going to hit the floor again for round two, but this time the fresh memories of Hospital 28 de Agosto and a desire to die at liberty conquered all. Shortly afterwards Naice appeared like my very own Florence Nightingale (although admittedly a little more tanned) and whisked me off home. And for the two subsequent weeks, while I have been poorly, I really haven’t felt like sitting at the computer - or very much else. In fact I found it all a bit depressing. But now that I am on the mend (don’t know what it was, but I hope it has gone and isn’t coming back), and have today survived my 50th birfday, I am definitely feeling a bit more positive. So there we are, and there you have it.

Toto Poll II

There was obviously some vote-rigging going on in the poll - one morning it was 6-2 and the next it was 7-1. On this basis I declare it fraudulent and demand a recount. I will re-post the poll in due course. However, it appears that Toto and Kelly have disgraced themselves: it seems that the former has got the latter up the duff. So this will now have to be taken into careful consideration.

Toto Poll

Just added - Toto Poll (see right).

Don't forget to vote!

Toto

Allow me to introduce Toto (to be more precise, Totô), the newest member of the household. Having been abandoned by our erstwhile neighbours when they moved to another part of Manaus, Toto sat patiently on a heap of sand outside their house for days on end. Taking pity, Naice decided to give him some food…and the rest is history. I am still fighting a rearguard action and won’t allow him inside our gate, but as you can see he now has his own house (painted and weatherproofed by yours truly), gets fed twice a day and likes to take his walk with Ozzie every morning and evening.

So what do you say - should I admit defeat and let him in, or should he stay outside in his own house? I think I'll add a poll to the blog (if I can figure out how to do it), and count the votes after a couple of weeks...