It’s a brilliant blue sky that greets us when we wake up although for a day standing in the sun, we could really do with a bit of cloud cover. The fact that the carnival outings are planned for the daytime precludes the wearing of our shiny, silver, leopard print leggings that were purchased in South Africa for that very reason – phew!
We get to the yacht club to find that everyone is wearing their special carnival tee-shirts and asking why we aren’t wearing ours. Having only arrived last night we are not yet in possession of them and I quickly search out Suzanna to get them and hand mine over to Annie to do a scissor job on it.
She cuts the neck into a v-shape, cuts a fringe around the bottom and slashes the back for ventilation – they are made from nylon or polyester and the sweat factor is immense!
After posing for the group photograph, the coaches take us to Olinda, just outside Recife. All the streets are decorated for carnival and there are street vendors selling everything that a serious carnivalista would want – sunglasses, wigs, masks, umbrellas and other decorative things that I wouldn’t know where to put.
We are led like a group of wayward ducklings through the streets of Olinda to a private ‘enclosure’, a shady, enclosed courtyard where a band plays non-stop, there is room for dancing and our entry fee includes all the drink and food you want – oh, and condoms.
Mike, follically challenged for some years now, takes a shine to some of the wigs and borrows them from Bev and Richie. I think the long black one (tastefully tied into pigtails with condoms) brings back some memories from when he had hair almost as long, almost as dark but much thicker! Bless!
As the hours pass, the courtyard fills up and the dancing really begins (as if weren’t sweaty enough already), getting more energetic as the drink flows. Being a good girl for once, I stick to coke – having been ill for the last few days and finally feeling better, the last thing I want is a stonking hangover.
As our wristbands allow us to come and go as we please, Mike and I decide to brave the heat and the crowds outside to see what is going on.
Carnival, we discover, is not quite what we had expected. There are no large floats, no big, elaborate processions, but a series of small ones, usually led by a band with a person carrying a banner in front. Each of these banners and bands represents an small area of the city, a church, school, organisation etc. The whole thing here is that people dress up, eat, drink and dance in the street. If you are not a people spectator, there isn’t really that much to see as such but this is just a tiny bit of what we do see.
We walk around for about an hour but it is so hot and crowded that we can’t last any longer. Walking back to the enclosure we walk up a steep hill and with all the mayhem going on going on in the streets around us it’s unbelievable to look out in the opposite direction and see the tranquillity further out.
Back at the enclosure the party is in full swing. The enclosure itself is now packed to bursting point even though lots of people have left like us to look around outside.
There’s a coach going back to the marina half way through the day and Mike and I (along with a VERY large group of the crews) opt to end carnival viewing and go back to the quiet of the marina and the relative cool of the swimming pool there. The coach, however, doesn’t show up on time and after about 45 minutes of waiting (during which a street hawker manages to sell about 4 premature baby lookalike puppet dolls to members of the crews, Paul and Suzanna organise taxis for us.
Back on the boat to pick up our swimming gear, I can’t resist trying on Bev’s wig. It’s been 40 years since I had anything but short hair, and to my surprise, I rather like it, violent colour though it may be!
We have a light lunch with Rosemary, Bill, Stephen, Michael and Basia and then head for the pool where we stay in so long that our skin is completely wrinkled by the time we emerge.
Unfortunately the chlorine gives Mike a raging headache and by the time we leave he is fit for nothing but his bed. I decide to give him some peace and quiet (good wife) so abandon him and go over to Crazy Horse for a drink (bad wife) getting a lift from Annie and Jim to save Mike having to take me in the dinghy (considerate wife). I wouldn’t be safe let loose in a dark marina at low tide with all the warps around in the water, not with the way I drive it (truthful wife)!
Jutta and Jochem drive me back but persuade me (embarrassingly easily) to stop off at their boat on the way for one last little drink. Luckily there is only one boat, Basia, in between Chessie and Jeannius and as they are all packed together so tightly, I am able to clamber very quietly across to Jeannius at the end of the evening. Feeling somewhat tipsy, I am glad there isn’t enough room for me to actually fall down between the boats. I’ve never really fancied life as a fender!!!
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