As I wrote this journal, I had to sit and think, long and hard: "where
the fuck was I yesterday?" In spite of their exotic names, there
really isn't that much difference between Paraty and Ubatuba if you're
just there for a few hours. At any rate, I bike from Ubatuba, one
small coastal town, to Paraty, another with not all that much
evidently going on. At ~47 miles, the ride's a good deal shorter but
about as strenuous: I'm putting some serious miles on my muscles
Other than the obligatory exhausted pass-out by the beach, I don't get much interesting done in sleepy Ubatuba. My hostel's funny: Pousada Taiwan's got a very overdone Asian vibe to it, from the sign's slanty font to the sliding doors to rooms I think I remember from dojos in "The Last Samurai." I finally see capoeira, the dance/fighting style developed by Brazilian slaves I was so excited about. I don't know if the people doing it weren't too good or it's just not that cool, but the only really neat part was kicks flowing through into other, totally different kicks. Overall, it looks 90% dance, 10% fighting, and not much cooler than ballet or any other dance style I couldn't care less about.
Let's see, what else? I finish Peter Linneman's book on real estate, which makes me think I might actually be decent at my job. I get the impression that it's a good mix of analytical and people skills with not nearly enough tech utilization occurring. Then again, I could be entirely wrong and terrible at it. Guess I'll just have to treat the job like a long, intense adventure and see for myself...
And I finish off the night with proof that I have a drinking problem. Not the Alcoholics Anonymous kind: I'm not chugging mouthwash for a morning buzz. And not like "Airplane," where I throw water across the room instead of into my mouth. Rather, I have just too much of a tolerance. Not for everything, mind you: a few shots of tequila and I bet I'd feel like shit. But beer is like water: literally 2.4 liters of pilsners over a couple hours and I basically could read a book, ride another 60 miles, or both. Guess I'll have to choose between a beer belly and staying in shape but drinking less, or at least things I like less. Tough call:)