The Archive

Bus back from Brasilia

OK, so where were we?

Ah yes, the last night in Brail.

Well Tanya, Alex and myself thought it would be funny to kick off the night at the Balcony Bar, a place where 'party girls' hang out and a lot of westerners can be found.

Now don't get the wrong idea, it's not a brothel. In fact, much like the Why Not in Lagos, it's really mostly an ex-pat bar. But it's also where girls who are willing to 'do things' for money go to meet the same ex-pats.

There's really nothing like it in the uk, except possibly those city bars full of beautiful women looking to hook up with a rich broker. In fact, it's almost exactly like that, except a bit more honest.

Anyway, we arrive and soon enough a couple of girls arrive to talk to us.

"Are you married?" one of them asks Tanya, after a short flirtation.
"Yes. We're married." she replies, pointing to Alex and smirking at me.

Why the smirk? Simply that she thinks that now she's ruled her and Alex out of the game, I'm going to get mobbed by the girls. I'm inclined to agree.

Which is why it was so funny that the girl was, if anything, even more enthusiastic. "I like sex with girls," she announced, "How about a threesome."

This carries on for a while, with Tanya experiencing the full 'guy' treatment of offers of sex, complete with uninvited crotch-grabbing.

She said it was 'very unsettling'. And she's right. It's very weird, and not necessarily a pleasant experience. But at least she knows how it feels for us blokes now.

Eventually, despite that fact that both Alex and I were thoroughly enjoying the spectacle of Tanya trying to evade the advances of the party girl, we headed of to Rio Scenarium.

This samba club is in a beautiful old building, with three floors of items that live in the grey area between junk and antiques.

Here we had a bit of a dance and listened to the band for a while, before I decided I wanted to go for a proper dance.

So we went to Help.

Remember Help? It was the club full of working girls in the dangerous area. Well, it turns out it was certainly full of hot women, and it was also a big, excellent dance floor.

I also got very, very drunk.

Which is why I have no idea how I got home, or who that old woman in the bed next to me was the next morning.

Needless to say, I gave her a great deal of money (relatively speaking, not much in real terms) to leave as soon as possible, exchanging sheepish glances with the guy on the door on my way out.

Then I packed up my small bag and big hangover and came home, where I am now, typing this and wondering how I'm going to sew up the trip in tomorrows, trip-concluding blog entry.

Well, I guess we'll find out then eh?

posted by Peter The Great @ 4:36 PM