Chiffany & Kaytch in Ouro Preto

Whilst here in Minas Gerais state, I wanted to take the opportunity to visit Ouro Preto. Meaning Black Gold, it used to be the capital of Minas Gerais (literally, General Mining) and was a key site for the mining of metals, minerals and gems. It is a stunning town, full of baroque churches, cobbled and hilly streets and fabulous jewellery shops! Kate and I managed to stay in the most amazing pousada (Pouso do Chico Rei), which was choc-full of antiques and character with an incredible view of the city from our patio (see photo). We had a fabulous time - perfect balance of sight-seeing, R & R, great food and funny company. All in all, well worth the 15 hour hassle of getting back to Iracambi.

Hi-hoes!

When not running workshops, having meetings or beavering away on my computer, you have to muck in with the Iracambi way of life. We share all chores (this week, I'm on burning the papel hygenico. Glamorama), cook each other meals and try to look after each other and the environment we live in. Every Tuesday, there is the weekly volunteer activity, where we go out and spend a couple of hours helping on jobs that need to be done around the NGO. Last week and this, it was tending to the mulas (tree seedlings) alongside the river bank. Here is the team with their hoes, after an honest morning hoeing (say that 3 times, fast)!

Another day at the office

For all of you who persist in believing it's all fun, games and caiparinhas, here's a photo of a workshop I held here last week on the Iracambi brand. Yes, yes, stop looking at the hammock and the setting, it's the workshopping that counts!

Friday night on the tiles in Limeira

So, what's a girl to do on a Friday night in the Atlantic Rainforest? Well, quite clearly she should cram into a knackered VW 3 door with 5 other people (one of whom is a space-sucking, strapping 6ft3 Dutchman), and barely contain a claustrophopic panic attack whilst careening down mud tracks for 35mins to get to the local town. Once there, she should purchase snacks to calm her nerves and then sit at the local bar (as in, the only bar) and share a bottle of Itaipava beer with a Frenchman, a Canadian, an American, a Dutchman and a Brazilian. Naturally, she should then go to the club (you got it, the only club) where there are gaggles of 12yr olds dancing in lines to what can only be described as bad Brazilian lounge music jazzed up with a heavy bass line. They will be far more amusing to watch dance than the 15 yr old boys seemingly humping the concrete pillars in the middle of the room. She will then risk life and limb to skid back up the mountain to her rainforest den. Just another Friday night in Limeira, people.

Dusk walk to the Fazenda 3

Oo, arty... the evening clouds reflected in the fish pond.

Dusk walk to the Fazenda 2

Dusk walk to the Fazenda1

A dusk walk over to an evening meeting at Robin and Binka's house produced some incredible photo opps...

Politically Incorrect Cookies

Apologies for the delay in posts - lots happening. So, first up, with my eye ever open to different cultures' branding conventions, check out this politically incorrect brand name for an Oreo-type cookie that I picked up at the local (12km away) shop. Launching soon at a Tesco's near you!

Mad dogs and Englishwomen stride out in the Brazilian midday sun

An action packed Saturday saw me wake at 5 am to torrential rain. The prospect of a morning hike seemed as appealing as the damp clothes that I had to put on that day (it's the tropics - everything is perpetually damp). But come 6am, the sun was out, I put on my hiking boots and then: we walked for 45mins to get a lift for 20mins to the local village. Then we joined the group in the square congregating for the locally organised eco-walk, took a group photo then climbed into two school buses (we made the local news with that photo: spot the English woman on the caminhada - http://www.jornalfolhaindependente.tk/). We drove out to a fazenda where the family had made vats of sweet coffee and trays of cake. 6 speeches from local dignitaries preceded the walk. After a group prayer, a pick up truck blaring Brazilian pop pulled out of the farm and we all followed like the Pied Piper of Hamlin. We trekked all morning, stopping for more speeches along the way. There was singing, dancing, deeply bad Portuguese-speaking (and that was just me...). The day was fab, everyone was so welcoming and even the 6km trek home at the end (plus the motorbike ride I accepted simply to avert full on sunstroke) were all part of the adventure. I've got lots of photos, but here's a little taster of the gathering.

Today I've been throughly Skyped - several long interviews over that noble portal is actually quite tiring I've discovered. I've got a good view from my desk though (today's picture)And despite the fact it is only 8.30pm here, it's been pitch black for a good few hours and I'm already feeling sleepy. That might have something to do with the prospect of getting up at 6am to go on a guided hike with the local county officials. No doubt I won't have a clue what they're saying, but I'm hoping for lots of good photos. Bom fin de semana, people!

Sherrington of the Arctic-lantic

To all of you who said I was just coming to Brazil to sit in a hammock and get a tan - there has been no hammock sitting (ok, but just the once) and it is FREEZING and overcast. It's so cold this evening, that I'm wearing 4 layers and my hands are still like ice. However, on my 4o min trek over muddy hills yesterday (the only way to conduct my interviews with Iracambi's founders) I came to the brow of a particularly steep climb and was rewarded with the most phenomenal view, as light flooded the valley. The picture doesn't quite do it justice. On the other hand, there was also a frog in the lavatory bowl this morning, so from the sublime to the ridiculous...

Daie Threy in the Case Verde...

Thanks to DW for pointing out my little house is more white than green - astute as ever, but all the houses are the same colour, it's the shutters that are different..see?! So, I've spent a day reading as much information as humanly possible, making appalling Portuguese/Spanglish with people and being eaten alive by insects. I look like I've taken a red felt-tip pen and dotted myself with splodges all over. It's a strong look. I've also been shown a picture of what looks like a tarantula being eaten by a massive, electric blue wasp the size of a baby's fist. It was spotted in our dining area. Health and safety, anyone? I'm sparing you that though, and instead, today's Iracambi moment of zen picture is the view from the Centro, where I spent the day tapping and reading away. (actually, computer says no to pic. will try again later)

Iracambi-Ho!

After months of thinking and preparing, an 11 hour flight, a 6hr bus, then 1.5 hr bus, then 20min Jeep ride...I'm here! Can't quite believe it, yet the croaking crickets, insect buzzes, rushing water and the damp, green, musky smell of the rainforest tell me it's true. After a lovely evening with Robin and Binka (intrepid travellers extraordinaire - their dinner conversation is fab 'ah yes, it's like that time with the King of Bhutan'), I'm now ensconced in the 'Centre' with several other volunteers from France, Canada, Brasil, Spain and the Netherlands. My Brasilian is ropy, their English is usually better, but we're getting by just fine. I'm currently on information and sensory overload so will keep this post brief, but check out my little green house...