Night-Time Bosperous

There is nothing quite like having a nice meal, in a really hip restaurant, on the 13th floor of a hotel looking down on the busy Bosperous as you watch boats of all shapes and sizes, their lights, like reflecting pin pricks in the river, dancing in competition with the pall of stars over a jet black Turkish sky. Especially, if the restaurant is as cool as, Vogue.

What I like about the Bosperous at night is the sheer business of the river. There seems like a constant parade of ships up down and across. Then you have the beautiful minarets on the horizon announcing Islams presence all around and then you have the thousands of local fishermen on bridges and on the river's side chatting to each other and swishing their hooks overhead. 

Last night I met a very nice gentleman called John who works for Microsoft for the Middle East and African region (MEA). He told me a little about his fascinating life and what it's like to live in Istanbul for 3 years. John, has 5 children, 2 from a previous relationship from his ex-wife, two that his current Turkish wife had from a previous relationship and one that they had together, a 3 year old girl.

John told us all about the kamikaze culture of the car drivers here; the calmness and tranquility that the Bosperous gives to so many locals at night, the fear that the country is going to experience another earthquake soon, the fact that there is little or no Irish community in Istanbul for him to hang out with, the huge appetite that Turkey has at a grass roots level to join Europe, while the current political leadership seems to be slowly steering itself to the Arab world.

When asked about Ireland. He dreams of living in West Cork, Baltimore but feels that the economic recovery in the country will probably take a decade if not longer to reaslise itself. John, was a colourful character full of interesting facts and stories. He kindly brought Camila and I to the water's front after our meal where we walked at midnight along the coast as we visited smoking tea shops, bought popcorn and candy floss, and tried our best to converse with the locals. We watched the fishermen laughing and chatting incessantly as the water bounce and flicker as the moon sent it's beams crashing off the top of a giant mosque beside. Young adolescents dotted on the grass in the local park, playing guitars, dancing and kissing. It was easy to see why John loves Istanbuls so much and why he is proud to now call it his "home".

Staring at the eyes of Tutankhamen

I’ve just come from Cairo were I was staying two days to do some work with the local recruitment team. The traffic was as bad as ever (the worst I’ve ever seen, bar India). The pyramids majestic and imperial as I glanced at them through a slow moving taxi. The crimson alabaster horizon descending on the water of the Nile as it twinkled and shimmered beside Cairo tower. White soldiers in their black berry hats as ubiquitous as I remembered.

On this occasion I had the good fortune to have a lovely dinner with 4 of my Muslim colleagues from Egypt. The trip will be memorable for the open and candid conversations on far ranging topics and one very interesting conversation in particular where I learned some interesting facts about Islamic faith:

1. Muslims refrain from eating meat where the animal has not been slaughtered with all the blood removed from its body. They believe the cleansing of the blood from the carcass removes unhealthy toxins that should be avoided for a longer life.
2. When getting up at 4am for the first prayer of the day, which normally last 3 minutes, they get extra “credits” if they wash their face in cold water before they return to sleep.
3. A Muslim man can have many wives. My taxi driver had 4.
4. A Muslim man can marry a Christian woman. However, a Muslim woman can only marry a Christian if he agrees to convert to Islam. She is forbidden from converting to Christianity.
5. Muslims in Egypt think that the Libyan accent is very swave and sexy.
6. Muslims vehemently believe that God is God; Mohammed is his prophet, they should travel to Mecca once in their life time and also they should be generous to the poor.
7. The wearing of traditional head garments is optional but often influenced by parents and grandparents.
8. There is little or no Sunni Muslims in Egypt.

These people were the perfect hosts and introduced me to a treasure throve of foods from Lebanon, Turkey and Egypt, the most of which I have forgotten the name of. They bought me sugar cane drinks and beer and told me all about the local music behemoths and latest up and comers. A great night out and I look forward to more like that in the future.

On this occasion I got the chance again to go face-to-face with the inimitable Tutankhamen mask. This time like the last time there wasn’t as many tourists around and I had a very good informative local guide to myself that I paid a very well worth 10 euros for one hour. After looking at Tutankhamen’s beguiling chairs, urns, weapons, jewellery and pottery (and despite a guard shouting “stop that photo” to a tourist beside me who had tried to take a photo of the mask with his iPhone) the time I spent looking at the riches of the young King’s tomb, in his sarcophagus chamber, was quite and tranquil with only a few others around. As I studied the mask and stared unflinchingly into its eyes a calmness and happiness entered me. I felt as if I could have stayed there happily for hours, days or even eons. Calmness pervaded the air, as if the air itself was leaving off some noble scent that allowed me magically time travel. I have been very lucky to travel as far and as wide as I have. For the minute or two I stood silent looking at the mask I transported myself to other locations I have been and that have imprinted themselves in my mind as clear as a deep inscription in an Ohm stone that has stood the tests of time. I looked deep inside and what came out were memories of the Pantheon when the air from the main chamber hit my eye as I peered through the main door at night. The first approach to Machu Pichau early in the morning as the condor flied overhead; the women and their fragile silk sewing machines of Luang Prabang; the dancing with local Chinese on a cold Friday night in Beijing in a small remote square beside the Shangri-La hotel. Many of these moments came back to me while looking at the mask. Like the treasure all around I couldn’t help but feel that like Tutankhamen and I had something in common that words could not express - and, written not in hieroglyphics, Greek, Latin, English or Arabic but with the ink of the rambling vagabond spirit.

Dubai

When Adidas marketing executives came up with their “Impossible is Nothing” campaign they must have got their inspiration from this sun blasted rich state of glamour and glitz on the Arabian peninsula. The local incumbent ruling tribe spear headed by its leader Sheik Mohammad’s imagination has gone into over drive. Where his brother and father have finished he has boldly taken up the baton and on behalf of the United Arab Emirates nationals propelled his new country onto the map of the world with incredible speed and ostentation.

The world’s only 7 star hotel, Burj Al Arab

The world’s largest shopping mall, Dubai Mall

The world’s tallest building, Burj Dubai

There are lists of lists of world’s firsts in Dubai and the Sheik has no plan in stopping any time soon with the world’s largest playground: Dubailand and the “world” project well under way.

However, on the flipside, Dubai has grown fast and furiously and from what I can see it is experience its fair share of growing pains with Abu Dabi and its hegemony of power beginning to question the speed and manner in which its sister city has grown so quickly. The recession has come in many ways at a good time for the city and the over inflated economy has begun to come back to some sense of reality and normality of late.

Arab culture is rich and fascinating and I have enjoyed my time here immensely. It has been interesting to study the local Emirati people from the lens of tourist and to wonder about how life for these people who  constitute only 20% of Dubai’s 1.4 million people must be. There wealth is obvious and their desire to be modern and innovative is carefully woven with their strong beliefs in their faith and their desire to delicately preserve their nomadic desert heritage and religious Islamic fervour and devoutness.

A bit like Shanghai there is a palpable taste of opportunity in the air and the hot sun that beats down with oppression at mid day at well over 35 degrees seems to remind that with hard work and inspiration man can conquer the desert and that fortunes are to be made for the bold and the brave.  As with all emerging markets that hold such cities of opportunity its culture is evolving quickly and tradition and modernity are getting to know each other in many clashes and embraces.  Rich business men each day are seizing countless opportunities, spreading the word of capitalism and getting rich. While the drum beats of inequality and culture divides is silently but steadily heard with every brick  that is laid by an underpaid, overworked, construction worker from Pakistan, India or Bangledesh that toils in well over 45 degrees of heat at mid day.

Acknowledging what is happening across all the social strata in the city ads to the alluring complexity of the city that demands understanding and questioning and also repect. Since coming here I find myself constantly quizzing taxi men and waiters that I have had the chance to meet about their interpretation of Dubai life. The replies have been wide and varied. With most being appreciative of the opportunities they have received compared to working in their home countries and others counting the days until they leave.  A lot have mentioned the fact they can earn good money and the fact that the country as being “secure” as being some of the main motivations for being here. Others complain about strict traffic penalties, high rental costs and “apartheid” like tendencies from the local Arabs on the negative side.

I am here on a trip with Microsoft to the region which includes a whistle stop tour of Cairo and Istanbul. Of late I have been asked to take some sourcing project management responsibilities for Middle East and Africa (MEA) and I am down here to learn from the local recruitment and HR teams and get to know them and the market they operate in.. The region comprises of all the African continent, the Gulf as well as eastern Mediterranean.  Our main hubs of activity are in Dubai, Israel, Cairo, Nairobi and Johannesburg and spreading out from these locations are teams that look after a lot more of the smaller markets that constitute all the other countries in the region. It will take years to understand the region to the level of detail I would like and to build the relationships I need. This trip is a good start.

Luckily, I have had the opportunity to fly in and spend the weekend here before doing my meetings on Monday and Tuesday.  Taking the excellent on-off city “Big Bus” tour guide has been my introduction to the city and it represents very good value for 20 euros for 24 hours with a lot of free admission and a boat ride across the creek at Deira all thrown in for good measure. I’ve also had a chance to visit the “Lost Chambers” and the “Aqua Adventure” park in the newly opened Atlantis hotel which sits imperious at the top of the first Palm island situated in close proximity to the world famous Burj Al Arab. I’ve also visited some amazing hotels for lunch and dinner. I have never in all my travels seen so many incredible, lavish hotels.  5 stars are the norm here.  My taxi driver informed me that on the trunk of the Palm alone that they are planning thirty three 5 star hotels all in the space of a couple of kilometres! For those who  enjoy luxury and pampering this city, by far, offers the best range of hotels the world has to offer in such high concentration. So far the stand out ones I have had a chance to visit have been: Jumeriah Beach and Dubai Marine.

I’m looking forward to coming back again. Who knows what “world’s firsts” will be added to the Sheik’s list by the time I get here. With Abu Dhabi successfully launching the first F1 race and having announced the coming of the Louvre and Guggenheim museums their brotherly rivalry seems to have only started!

Cuenca, Spain

Just back from a very enjoyable stag party just outside Madrid in a very cool little town called Cuena! A friend of mine Conaill was gamely dressed up by a matador and did his country proud by going through two days of full on drinking and dancing. Great "craic" and looking forward to going back for his and his beautiful Spanish fiancee, Arancha's wedding, in August in Toledo!

What I particularly liked about this little town was the hanging buildings over the top edge of the city and the really long wobbly bridge over its very cool little valley!

Swiss Weddings and Canyoning in Interlaken

Over the course of the last two weeks I have been fortunate to go on two different trips to Switerland (that's 3 times this year already) The first was a wedding in Brig, where my Swiss friends Domi and Gabi tied the knot. Camila and I became very friendly with them after we rented our apartment in Trader's Wharf to them when both of us went to live in Barcelona. Ever since we have been good friends and when they invited us to their wedding we were delighted to go. On this occassion, we decided to fly to Milan so that we could take in the famous Dumo catheral that lived up to it's world renowned beauty and we gaulked and stared in the famous shopping centre of the rich and famous at Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II. An extraordinary homage to the most famous clothes brands in the world. The arcade itself and spectacular glass ceiling were the best part of it all for me. As far the flash bags and dandy brogs! - not really the vagabond way! From Milan the train ride to Visp and then close by Brig is excellent. Rolling valleys abound and the stunning Lake Maggiore kept calling out to me to stop the train and go explore it but alas we didn't have the time and like a child in a candy shop been told they could only take one sweet it was frustrating seeing so much and not been able to go out and get to it.

Then to the main wedding. Brig is a tiny town in the south of Switzerland and one of the smaller cantons. The wedding itself was in a very small church and the ceremony was very intimate with only a handful of foreigners. Unlike Irish weddings Domi gave a speech in Swiss German and English at the start of wedding thanking everyone for coming. Also, he and his wife arrived together and sat at the top of the alter facing outwards. The priest was a young energetic man with amazing communication skills. His eyes were ablaze and he engaged with his crowd constantly asking them to answer some of his questions and regularly cracking jokes. Eventhough he spoke 99% of the time in German his sincerity was amazing and eventhough the spoken word was lost on the visitors I felt it was the most beautiful wedding I have ever been at, bar none, because of how family orientated the atmosphere was and the sincerity and passionate delivery of the priest to a very engaged and interactive audience. I hope I can capture some of the magic of Domi and Gabi's wedding at my own this February.

The rain fell soon afer the ceremony but we quickly made our way to shelter and some beautiful white wine that Gabi's father had cultivated and prepared himself from his own vineyard. We then went back to a cosy hotel where a single electronic keyboard man played a marathon 4 hour session, we did the follow your partner around the room snake dance at least 7 times, Gabi's mother played the accordian and deliverd a one man comedy act on a stage in front of the crowd for 20 minutes and Domi's father also performed a rap song with Dami's mates. All mixed in with more of Gabi's father delicious wine and a non stop flow of excellent food. A wonderful experience.

The next day we got the opportunity to see the world famous Matterhorm Mountain from the beautiful touristic village of Zermatt and later that night we visited Gabi's parent for my firt ever tasting off Raclette cheese all prepared homemade and with tender loving expert care. It was truely delicious and with a helping of lovely boiled potatoes Camila had five seatings and I only bet her by one to six.

The this weekend I decided to travel by myself while Camila was in Brazil to visit my good friend "Maddog" McKeever who is an interest trader for USB in Zurich.  It was back to Switerland again!  We went down to the amzing town of Interlaken to spend a couple of nights in the famous Balmer youth hostel while we explored all that the best adventure sports city of Europe had to offer. This was my first time to Interlaken it won't be my last. The nearest thing I have seen to it is Queenstown in New Zealand. Interlaken means "between lakes" and that is exactly what it is - two beautiful massive glacial lakes.  It is surrounded by majestic peaks with a beautifl little city on level ground. It's obvious when you get to the city from all the activity taking place in the park in the centre of the city that it's all about the outdoor sports in this part of the world. Handgliders dotted the skies regularly and paragliders were everywhere. Countless scores of people wizzed around on their bikes and tourists hung out in huge numbers from all the local hip cafes and bars that are tucked away nicely on the wdge of the main square and pretty back streets.

Jim and I decided for a 40km cycle on day one with a visit to my first ever Cowboy and Monster trucks festival, you heard me right, line dancing, Harley Davison, cowboy festival, that just happened to be in Interlaken when we were there and had the best handle bar moustache wearing air guitar players I have ever seen going crazy to Garret Brook songs. "Nice job" Maddog!

Second day was all about canyoying and repelling (check out some photos here to see what it's all about). Basically, going down a glacial vally with a wet suit and helmet and over the course of a two to three hours in a group of ten jumping and diving in to various type of pools and currents. Great fun that reminded me of sledging when in Queenstown.

Interlaken was an excellent find and one never really on my rader before until this week. I look forward to getting back and next time getting to visit Schillthorn which I'd love to see on a beautiful sky blue pristine day.

The Monster of Engelberg and Embarrassment

I got a chance this weekend to spend some time on the slopes with family and friends. This time it was Switzerland and the beautiful sleepy town of Engelberg which is a 50 minute drive outside of Zurich. Embarrassment was everywhere! But before we go there... a little about the trip.

This was a first for me to eat fondue! It was my first time to enter a church that was completely made with ice and had a ice pub and toilet also build in the same giant igloo. My first time to see an impressive ski jump Eddie the Eagle style and also a first to watch a choir of angelic like singers chanting in a tiny, cosy, echoey monastery church at the edge of a glorious mountain range.

We stayed in the Ramada hotel which claims to be 4 star but for me was very much 3 star. At a cost of 220 euros a night it was pricey for what was on offer but having said that it seemed to be in the top 3 hotels in the picturesque town. A chalet could be a much better option if you want to stay for a week and would be worth checking out. The Alpen Club restaurant is very cool and highly recommended for some local grub and don't forget to get the table car up to the Titlis range which is well worth the effort with an excellent cable ride and excellent ski runs for the intermediate and upper level skier that I someday am determined to ski on!

And to the monster of Engelberg! :) If I catch those little kids I'll strangle them!

Around the world in one day and the amazing botanical gardens of Singapore

I distinctly remember it was a close humid night in the summer of 1992 when I first set foot in Singapore. Part of a very young and energetic UCD soccer team I had just recovered from breaking my left tibia and with butterflies in my stomach, beads of sweat congregating on my brow I remember taking to the field at 7.30pm in 37 degrees hoping I wouldn't encounter any testing tackles. All turned out well I was accredited a goal in the local press which i didn't score and I came through the last 20 minutes of the game unscaved and had myself some Tiger beer that night with the boys to celebrate and a plush meal at the cricket club with our hosts!

Now I was back 17 years later. The beads of sweat quickly congregated again and I tasted the same cocktail of excitement knowing this time unlike the last I had build into my visit an entire day from which I could do what I pleased to check out this beautiful city state.

Singapore is an island microstate located at the southern tip of the Malay Peninsula. It lies 137 kilometres (85 mi) north of the equator, south of the Malaysian state of Johor and north of Indonesia's Riau Islands. Singapore is only one of four remaining true city-states in the world. It is the smallest nation in Southeast Asia and after two days of training the South Eastern Microsoft team I was looking forward to inserting my trusty 5 giant learning sponges into my 5 senses and then hit the road to harvest some new experiences to add to the database :)

The adventure for me started with the world famous night Safari. I'm not a big fan of zoo's but I decided to give this a go. It was big, very big and it holds over 1,040 animals of 120 species, of which 29% are threatened species. You can walk the park which I was told takes about 3 hours to peruse or you can take the train that sees it all in 45 minutes. I went for the latter and with the aid of an excellent guide got to see and hear about the lives of some animals I had never seen before. The mighty lion and tiger. The scavenging ant eater and the greedy hyena just to name a few. I enjoyed the trip and it would be perfect for my niece Ellen. I could see her being captivated by the clever design of the zoo and the huge variety of specimens for me though I wouldn't really write home about it! Zoos are innately sad for me and no matter what excitement I felt seeing the magnanimous animals my excitement was dampened my knowledge that they were living outside their natural habitat, despite the obvious ingenuity with the comfortability on show. It was voted as one of the top ten family experiences in the world in 2006 so it might be something you want to explore.

After 8 hours sleep I then checked out the little city. The targets I circled with the concierge in the Intercontinental hotel were: little India, little China and Arab street. Then the final destination and the one I was looking forward to the most the famous botanical gardens and the famous orchid collection.

Arab street was nearest to the hotel so after a hearty breakfast including guava juice and croissants I took my map, put on my shorts and Brazilian haviannas and went searching. Sprinkled with little shops of all sorts the area consists of 3 or 4 streets all close to the very busy Sultan's mosque which was a hive of activity when i was there. I took a few quick snaps bought a magnet for my fridge collection of Singapore flag and white glow in the dark white target and then sat it out during a down pour to take in some of the local activity over a can of coke.  From there it was off to India town at a fruit and vegetable shop that was enveloped by the classic gold jewelery stores that are everywhere in India. This really was a microcosm and mirror image of the real thing. Serais abounded in their multitude of colours. The colours walked around and were spotted by thick, curley proud moustache wearing men proudly selling all kinds of nicks and nacks that included the latest Indian news and film magazines to ornate furniture shops that sold giant wodden statues of their elephant god. After another mnsson like down pour that cleared up after 5 minutes I headed for China town. I landed outside the impressive Sri Mariamman Temple which is Singapore's oldest Hindu temple and right in the middle of the Chinese district. The front entrance door with it's numerous bells and then giant centre piece cradles of hundreds of small statues was worth the visit alone. After that it was "take me down to China town" and the shopping began. Unlike me, I bought like crazy. Mostly, gorgeous Chinese wodden boxes and silk pillow cases! It was a great day and it wasn't over.

We all know about orchids. Delicate, sublimely formed and cradles of awe and admiration. What most of us probably don't know is there are between 25,000 to 30,000 species. I remember encountering my first wild orchid in Brazil when I hiked in the Champada Dimentia national park in Bahia, Brazil. After one and a half days of walking I remember turning a mountain track and seeing two yellow orchids standing tall and proud bobbing and oscillating in the gentle frigid wind. It flowers could warble. This was the nearest thing to it. If they could smile these were beaming. Two tall slender twinkles of joy. As I jad my photo taken by some kind Korean tourists at the placard entering the botanical gardens I remembered the Brazilian orchids and I was very much looking forward to now seeing some of the best examples of them the world had to offer. The rest is in the pictures, here. 

Beijing and the curious incident of the teacher in the square

I’ve been in Beijing for 2 days and soaking it all in. I’m here to train 30 recruiters from Beijing, Shanghai, Shenzen and Taiwan how to use internet technologies to source but have arrived here 3 days early to check out the city and get on the same time zone.

So far I’ve revisited the Forbidden City of the Ming and Qing dynasties, see photos here, and this time it was not being renovated for the Olympics so I got to see the inner and outer area, the house of harmony and the amazing gardens with a little bit of extra high definition.

After the city I joined the crowd in Tenemana Square to watch the removal of the flag at 6pm in front of the huge bright world famous portrait of Chairman Mao. In a group of well over 1,000 people myself and Cristine my Microsoft colleague stuck out like soar thumbs and garnished a lot of attention. Photos were taken with babies and a very inquisitve older women who had very broken English and claimed to be an English teacher, which I’m sure she was, despite her 5 year old English standard, politely and very humbly asked us some questions:

“Where are you from?” To my surprise, she knew Ireland was beside England and small. Nothing else.

“What is your name?”

“How big is your family?”

“Why are you here?”

“What is the differences between Ireland and China?”

“Would you like to meet my son? He is my only child and studying law in Beijing University?” She then beckoned over a 6 foot tall, duffle coat wearing, muscular young man, who bowed his head courteousfully with a huge smile peering out of his round rimmed skinny spectacles.

The genuine inquistiveness continued...

“What do you eat?”

“When are you going home?” When I told her a week. She burst into laughing.

"What is your name?"

"Welcome to China!"

The brief interlude lasted about 6 or 7 minutes but it gave me a stark but clear small insight into the hunger for knowledge and self introspection that we take for granted in Ireland and we reciprocate ourselves. This women was warm and kind and wanted to know about my world. She was loving and caring and wanted to make me feel secure and at home. She wanted to share and to learn and with a beautiful smile and wonderful head bowing gesture explained to me with an invisible loud speaker the sacred words that I have learnt on all my global voygerism... my Ying for her Yang... my Harmony for her Harmony.... "You" and "I" are the same. For reminding me of that which I already knew from my travels but had departmentalised a little deeper than it should have been of late which always happens when you slip back into familarity in Ireland, I said "Bye", "Xui - Xui" and I saluted her as I left. She had reminded of that which I had forever learned in 2004 travelling the world and tatooed on my soul. She and I were the same. For her kind words and bright infectuous smile that nearly knocked Chairman Mao off his red wall I loved her as if she was one of my own.

After a walk around the beautiful square and some quick introspection and then inspection of the guarded Obelisk, the famous workers statues and a gaulk at the outside of the Chinese history museum and government buildings we headed for home which turned out to be an ordeal as if was really hard to flag any taxis down. Before we got one we passed a huge building called the “Book Building”... think of Eason’s on O’Connel street multipled by 4 in size. It was colossal and interestingly at the front of the shop was all communist rhetoric books and the best seller list which interestingly had Barack Obama’s “The Audacity of Hope” and also Warren Buffet’s autobiography. Books very cheap. 3 euros for a book that would cost us 15 at home. The sections were long and diverse. Similar than we had back home but calligraphy, philosophy and the childrens section were noteably much deeper. I had a quick look around and saw a Harry Potter book and a Lonely Planet like travel section but very Chinese like in print and design. I didn’t get a chance to find anything on Ireland but would have loved to. We were in a hurry to catch a meal so we didn’t stay long. As I left we both started a debate about how books get censored in China before they land on the shelf. It must be a rigorous process and something I can try find out today on my travels, especially if I bump into more teachers in squares.

Itacare, Prinha and the Coconut Ring

I could tell the story of Adriano our 18 year old starey-eyed tour guide and the most skillful soccer player I have had the chance to play against. The delicious mangostina fruit that is a cousin of the lychee and is famed for the Queen of England's comments as being the most beautiful fruit she has ever eaten. What about the 250 metre free fall rappelling act over a packed beach of hippies and Rasteferians. My new friend whom I had many interesting conversations about Brazilian politics and soccer, and whom I got to know at our hotel pool bar the Brazilian famous sports journalist Vlair Lemos that is currently working on a new book about the world cup and Corinthians soccer legend Socrates who studied medicine in Ireland before his professional soccer career blossemed (you can check his blog out at: blogdovladir.blogspot.com). Then again, maybe I should talk about the inspirational Dublin doctor who is setting up a charity to help poor favela children in Itacare. We could even chat over an ice cold beer about the 7 coloured exotic bird the name of which escapes me but whom I caught a glorious photo of eating bananas that I'm sure would bring a smile to Gerald Manley Hopkins face as he coined his famous "pantheism" description of God in nature. Or what about the coconut ring that I gave on a gentle breeze overlooking a tourquise sea where the rivers of Chapada Dimentinia converage with the Atlantic ocean showing a steady phalanx of hypnotic ghostly horse waves that constantly form and crash silently in the middle of the ocean.

I think instead I will tell you about the story of Itacare itself and Prinha or "The Tiny Beach" the best beach I have ever seen.

Itacare is one of Brazil's foremost surfing destinations which exists in the state of Bahia a mere two hours drive from Brazil's old capital Salvador and 2 hours flight from Sao Paulo, the latter being the route myself and Camila opted for. After an excellent week in Parathy we had booked a fairly expensive week in a top beach hotel in Itacare through the number one Brazilian toursim company CVC that prepare everthing for you. My style has been mostly doing things myself. Organising my own flights. Arriving in airports taking buses and trains into city centres. Walking around with a Lonely Planet book checking out hostels and cheap hotels. This was the opposite. Buses waiting to pick you up at the airport. Knowledage guides with deep dark choclete skin and flourescent yellow shirts and smiles that would rival any parents' when seeing their childs first steps. All laid out, well prepared and on hand.

What I really liked about Itacare and the CVC company was the variety of excursions or "passeios" on offer for visiting tourists. Our guides were the gregarious Adriano and Samuel. The night we arrived, after a 3 hour powercut which forced us to eat in the restaurent by candle light, they explanined to us for one and a half hours in person with no use of any brochures or laptops, simply colourful stories and loads of laughings all the types of "passeios" on offer. First was a one day canoeing trip by a local fisherman, 6 to a long canoe, along river banks infested with blue and red crabs to a deserted 20 metre waterfall and natural pool. Secondly, was a grade 3 rafting trip which lasted the entire day. Thirdly, was a full morning of -Arvorism- or Tree rappelling which involves walking through a maze of tasks 20 metres high on the tree tops of the local tropical forest that looks over the deep blue coastline. Next on offer was the peninsula jeep ride to the tip of Itacare which involved a 7.30am kick off and an inredibly bumpy 4 * 4 Land Rover ride, the stopping off at a bar of a man who has 34 children and sells coconuts, which ended up in some diving and snorkelling if you wanted it and a dip in a local lagoon lake which had water that was 28 degrees hot. The final two trips on offer was a trip to the famous islands of Morro De Sao Paulo and a visit to the famous "Prinhia" beach. For an amazing 415 reis or 140 euros for both of us. We went for the canoe ride, the jerky jeep ride, the rapelling and the secluded beach. For this unbelievable price, including wake up call, guide and transport, this was phenomenal value. While simple and involving a cheap bus, a lot of walking and our own paddling on canoes the cost alone would have been enough for the detailed history and descriptions we got from the guides about the local flora and fauana nevermind all the other stuff thrown in. This was very much an insider Brazilan trip. We met no other "gringos" or foreigners on our "passeios" and everything was delivered in Portugese or the local dialect Baihanese. While mapping it more difficult to understand it made it all the more authentic and special and I loads of new vocabulary to use back in Dublin with my Brazilian friends or the next time I come back.

For me the highlight was the 30 minute walk through a hilly "fazendo"or farm to the downwards sandslopes that lead you to the beautiful blue, brown and green of Prinhias ocean, sand and coconut and palm
trees. Prinha has been voted consistently by Veja, Brazilians leading political and social magazine as one of the top ten beaches in all Brazil which is saying something. It has never reached the lofty heights of Jericacacoa which is found in the north of the country and seems to be only rivalled by Fernando Del Noronha's famous islands beaches to the east. But for me, it bettered anything I saw in Brazil to date or anything I have seen on my travels anywhere else. Maybe it was the 30 minute hike to get to the beach or the jutting peninsulas on each side of the beach that added to my impression of the place but I think more than anything else it was the ununsual beautiful stand alone cococunt trees, beautifully flat sandy beach and the countless smiles on the super cool surfers who dotted the mains of the white horse waves that crashed with regular batches of 2 to 3 metres waves in the safe warm waters of the 1 kilometre beach that won me over. Im already looking forward to the day where I write about a beach that leaves a deeper impression on me than this one for it will have to be one hell of a beach to win my title for "Best Beach Visited- Ever".

Prinha has thankfully not falled subjugate to the trappings of the mass tousism industry. There is one kiosk that sells water, beer, pineapples, coconuts and soft drinks but there is no other. Unlike countless other beaches that have thousands of yellow umbrellas and yellow chairs dotted along Brazil's 7,200kms of coastline this one has refreshingly none. A few picnic tablets or provided for to sit down on, there is a set of tiolets with some showers to wash off the salt of the sea and the "maresis" salty windy, but that's it. After that you have to try find a cococut tree shade to plop down your towel, you stay in the water to cool off, you join the local guides and surfers on the beach for a game of football which is what I did first, or you take on the sun with it all its shimmering rays and penetrating glistening heat. Either options you can't loose.

I would highly recommend a visit to Prinha and to Itacare. Unlike a lot of surfer beaches I have been to this one has not yet been infested with all the trappings of tourism. It seems to be to be delicately balanced at the moment and could easily turn into a tourist trap like countless others in the near future. While you'll find
plenty of restaurents and bars serving Italian, Japanese and Brazilian dishes thankfully there is no Irish bar or golden arches yet. I would say go here sooner rather than later and keep away from it the week after the Carnival fisnishes as that is when the worlds carnival partiers from foreigners lands envelop the city for a solid week. From New Years to mid Feb is probably the best time to go and make sure to book well in advance as this time is high season holiday time for all of Brazil. Also, don't be afraid to give CVC a go. There cheap, reliable, action packed and great fun. And youll get by even if you dont have the local lingo. For a well organised, easy sit back adventure holidays these guys have it down to a tee.

PS: It was at the convergence of the river and the ocean that I asked the beautiful Camila Monthila De Morales for her hand. With a bended knee and a local coconut ring I found on the beach I closed many chapters of 34 years of colourful rich single life and set out on a set of new adventures which I hope will make me a better man, husband and Rambling Irish Vagabond for many decades to come. For that perfect moment Itacare will always remain one of the most special of special places for the Vagabond.

The BR101 to inspiring Paraty

Gems

*Drinking Calda the Cana sugar cane juice for the first time

*Waterfall surfing with local acrobats

*Playing hand claps with a 4 year old Sao Caetano girl and getting a big sloppy wet kiss off her in the end

*Eating in the Brazilian-famous Marseille creperia in Paraty

*Crab hunting in Trindade

*Visting the amazing Kontiki island restaurent and getting to know a baby peacock

Books

*Dreams from my father, Barack Obama

*Off the Beaten Track, Kathryn Thomas

Accomadation

*Vistamar, 200 R$ per night - 3 star location with 5 star service. Nice spot and highly recommended but a little far at 20 minutes walk to the city centre.

It was a cold, chrome skyed, windy river Liffey that I waited by as I hailed a taxi down for the airport. The night before I had been to Alex Martins infamous UCD, D4, culchie here-and-there annual Christmas reunion and now it was 3pm on the 27th of December 2008 and it was time to get away from recessions, pints of Guinness and wolly jumpers and make the 14 hour round trip down to my second home, Brazil.

BR 101 from Rio to Santos has to be one of the most under-rated car trips in the world. A mixture of the Almalfi coast mixed in with Highway 1 it has dramatic sea views and archipelgo sightings mixed in with hundreds of beachs and miles upon miles of "seras tortuosa", windy roads that cut through the numerous small mountain tops that dapple the entire coast and move steadily inland on their way to Sao Paulo and Rio De Janeiro. The eponymous Rio-Santos takes about 9 full hours of travel and about 400kms of driving from start to finish alond the coast. After a stomach full of picanha and some cold "Original" beers Camila and I set off on the 29th along BR101 making our way to Paraty, an old colonial town that acted as the end point for the Portugese to transport their gold from the slave mines of Ouro Preto some 800kms away in the state of Minis Gerais just before they set sail to Lisbon with their bounty. Instead of taking the normal road Im used to from Sao Paulo to the coast: Santos Guaruja and Maresis we instead made our way towards Rio and then cut our way down the "seras" to Paraty.

In my minds eye I was expecting a small colonial, neat cobblestoned town centre with maybe 3 or 4 beaches close by that we could lay back and catch some of Brazil's famous rays but instead what I found was a far bigger town centre than expected rich with a very interesting Bohemian culture which had been many years ago found out by some of the most prominent musicians, artists, film directors, adventures and celebrities that Brazil has to offer. The town was inflated due to the on coming New Years Eve celebrations, but despite the activity, it still maintained its charm and intamacy and somehow manages to circumvent the all to often crazy crowds that descend on the small and big costline towns all along BR 101 at this time of year.

After an adventurous first night walking with Havianns along the beautiful cobblestoned interior of the city and tasting some very nice Pizza in an excellent restaurent called Margaretia (that housed a talented long nailed eye squinting Spanish guitar musician al vivo) the next few days we got stuck into the activities all around us. All with Camilas mum Cidinha Chaparau and her sister Carolina and her very erudite curious lawyer boyfriend Rodrigo. First was a boat trip to Ilha Sonos and the smallest fresh fish restaurent you may ever come across on a tropical island. I had a plate full of Dourado and a can of the famous Guarana soft drink for about 10 euros and left with a big smile on my face and a worringly expanding out of control waist line. Secondly, was a trip to Paulo Branco waterfalls where for the first time I saw waterall skiing and got a chance to try it with some of the local acrobatic teenagers which had learned to ski the jutting rick faces with consumate artistery and grace. Thirdly, was a visit to one of Brazil´s hippy and rasta famous beaches which is famous for dope smoking and moonlight beach parties, Trindade. Here we took in some of the amazing views and also went hunting for the very shy siri crabs that live inland in the light forest and at night scurry around the sand on their way to the sea. Next we visited a pinga and cancha distillery and then an old colonial farm that has been preserved in excellent conditions and was a very clear insight into the mining and slavery industries that existed in the 18th century.

While I felt we packed a huge amount in there was loads left we could have done but ran out of time to do. Tree adventure eco-tourism is very popular here and I will have to slide and scale amongst the tree tops next time I am here. The diving is excellent and with nearby Ihla Grande and its famous crashed helicopter dive which I did before in 2004 the location with its over 300 different islands is a serious winnder for novice and series diver alike. Then there is the jeep trips into the jungle and the countless trail bike adventures to mountain tops where you can do some para-sailing at the top.

I´m now back in Sao Paulo resting and getting ready for the next trip - 8 days in sunny Bahia and the surf beaches off Itacare!

Some of the photos can be checked out here.