Living on the island

So, the last week and a half have blended almost seamlessly into one tropical beach-type holiday. After one final night of carnage in Rio, we ditched it and headed to Ilha Grande with Chloe, Justin and Yelena - a small, perfect island a couple of hours away. What followed were a handful of days of sun tanning (right, I´m officially brown and it´s NOT FROM A BOTTLE), white sand beaches (Lopez Mendes, one of the best in Brazil allegedly), boat trips and dipping in blue lagoons. Yep. I know. It ruled.



That was until a shrimp pizza on Justin´s birthday landed me in bed for 48 hours with food poisoning. It was far from pleasant for all involved. It was messy. I was ill. And ashamed.

A sad goodbye to Chloe, Justin and Yelena - and then we were on to the next. Mark, an actor who was once the murderer in Midsummer Murders (he´s grappled with John Nettles, don´t you know) and Dave a high school art teacher from London. Duncan and Mark indulged in hot, sweaty treks around the island (no thanks) whilst Dave and I sat out our last day on the beach. Then the three of us headed off to Paraty for the lit festival, daahhling.