Paraty timeJul 25, 2011
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| Paraty Pizzas eaten x 1 Beers drunk x 7 Wine consumed x 5 litres Arguments x 1.5 Paraty was Vickie's work - I had never heard of the place, so going there was a mystery. I had no preconceptions. The start of the journey was the cheap local bus from Angra Dos Reis. It would be a two hour squash fest that I would enjoy less than having my elbow smashed. You have some very dangerous ingredients mixed in this journey, heat + 300 people + 40 seats + crazy bastard bus driver = misery. Although as we curled round the ocean road, hugging the glorious lush green hills my mood improved, people got off and I eventually found a seat next to Vickie and began to get the feeling back in legs and lower back. SA doesn't do anything with consideration for it's passengers as far as public transport is concerned. The private buses will put National Express to shame, but local buses are infrequent, busy and driven (as I have said before) by scary buggers. Arriving in Paraty I was relieved to get my bag (we had to leave the bag at the back of the bus and get in to the scrum at the front) |
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