The last bits of Brazil

Checked out of my room, but was still at the terras of the hotel. Calling people, writing. Trying to synchronise my vibe and my energy. The head prefered a different (the old) path. Just, no. Won’t follow. Still able to stay in the change.

The first 4 hours of the bus trip to Montevideo I watched the landscape passing by. Even did a bit of Spanish lessons. After dark, I kept wandering through my mind. 

With every town, internet came to live for a short while. Masseges van back home. Sad stories. With whom can we, do we share our sorrows and greef? Who do we allow into our energy, who do we block, and why? How do the connections work in a interwoven and knotted network of relationships? In our western world, we have almost lost our ability to keep our ancestors alive, together. How often do we share stories and memories? How much do we tell our children and grandchildren about their heritage?

This bus had extremly good service. Pillow and plaid at the seat. We just had left the Florianopolis, when the steward served the first round of coffee and cake. After the dinnerbreak at a (bufet-style) restaurant, back in the bus, it was happy hour. The choice was between water, cola, whisky and Martini. Together with the ladies on the other side of the ayle, I choose Martini. According to the ladies, we got a bottle. Glad, we just got a glass! Until… they claimed the bottle with the rest of the Martini (almost half of it). The evening meal (cena)  in the bus was served in airplane-style: a warm meal (mached potatos and chicken cordon bleu, maracuja creme as dessert) and a drink. Time for the last Martini. The ladies went to sleep, I choose a movie on my iPad.