Traveling two days to get anywhere is exhausting. Let's just agree on that from the start. But I know, as usual, I get no sympathy. I was flying 5456 kilometers from Cancún to Brazil.
The day started out relaxing. There was no wake up call for a 4:00 A.M. flight. I never like to "been there, flown that" time schedule on any of my travels. I grabbed an airport bus around eleven in the morning and flew out of Mexico that afternoon for Texas. It was hours in the wrong direction, but there is no arguing with the airline gods who plan flight departures. I did not leave for South America till around 9:30 that night. Considering the hour, I decided not to watch any movies. Attempted sleep was in order.
I don't think I slept any. I know for certain I didn't feel like I slept any. Arrival in São Paulo was 11:00 A.M. local time. Original plans were for me to take an airline bus to a neighboring airport on my own where I would then catch a bus to yet a third airport. I was not worried.
I should have been . . . a little.
The day started out relaxing. There was no wake up call for a 4:00 A.M. flight. I never like to "been there, flown that" time schedule on any of my travels. I grabbed an airport bus around eleven in the morning and flew out of Mexico that afternoon for Texas. It was hours in the wrong direction, but there is no arguing with the airline gods who plan flight departures. I did not leave for South America till around 9:30 that night. Considering the hour, I decided not to watch any movies. Attempted sleep was in order.
I don't think I slept any. I know for certain I didn't feel like I slept any. Arrival in São Paulo was 11:00 A.M. local time. Original plans were for me to take an airline bus to a neighboring airport on my own where I would then catch a bus to yet a third airport. I was not worried.
I should have been . . . a little.
Rescued in São Paolo by Gabriel Well, I would have been in trouble making connections all by myself in Portuguese (a language I do not speak). At the last moment, my host decided Gabriel should meet me at the airport. I had his Facebook photo and he had a picture of me in Mexico. He knew he just had to look for a gringo wearing a hat. Note to self -- Find out what "gringo" is in Portuguese. (It’s still gringo.)
The drive to airport two, Campinas, was farther than expected. And, finding the bus stop to airport three, Viracopos, was harder than I would have wanted to try on my own. With the help of my Portuguese-speaking guide, I made it with an hour to spare. That would not have happened on my own. And, just like in other parts of the world, I was kindly babysat while I awaited transportation. There were to be no mishaps. This gringo was not to miss any leg of transportation as had happened in my recent past. And, as we waited, Gabriel became my first Portuguese tutor of the trip.
Gabriel gave me a hug before I got on the bus. I got the impression that those are freely given in Brazil. The woman waiting for the bus next to us, who possibly spoke two words in English to me, also got a very big hug. A country and a culture that are warm and welcoming with an abundance of hugs to share is always a good sign.
I can give no information on the ride to Viracopos. My eyes were shut the entire time. But the destination was one very big and modern airport with almost no English. I couldn't figure out the check-in kiosk. That really isn't that much of a surprise. I often have trouble with them in my own language, and this wasn't. A very gracious airport employee, so apologetic of his English skills, rescued me.
There was free wifi at the airport, a true sign of civilization in my mind. I received an email from a friend asking if I was now at my destination and relaxed. No, I left home around 10:30 in the morning on Friday and would not reach my destination until 1:00 AM Sunday (with some kind of time zone changes involved). I still was not finished traveling.
Upon arrival in Londrina Airport, I found a group of eight new friends, all wearing T-shirts with my art. They’d driven three hours to hold up a banner and meet me. My host, Geremias, shook with emotion as he hugged me. For him, it was a moment like one of his favorite teacher “feel good” movies Freedom Writers. My visit was that kind of moment for him and his students. Brazil promised to be like no experience I’ve ever had muraling.
I do not accept friends on Facebook that I do not know. But, I have to add a whole gang of new Brazilian friends. Gabriel was the first new one upon arrival. But, there is a friend request list of around FIFTY new friend from Brazil. I have never had a welcome like this before. Murals 50 and 51 in my twenty-fifth country are going to be maravilhosa!
The drive to airport two, Campinas, was farther than expected. And, finding the bus stop to airport three, Viracopos, was harder than I would have wanted to try on my own. With the help of my Portuguese-speaking guide, I made it with an hour to spare. That would not have happened on my own. And, just like in other parts of the world, I was kindly babysat while I awaited transportation. There were to be no mishaps. This gringo was not to miss any leg of transportation as had happened in my recent past. And, as we waited, Gabriel became my first Portuguese tutor of the trip.
Gabriel gave me a hug before I got on the bus. I got the impression that those are freely given in Brazil. The woman waiting for the bus next to us, who possibly spoke two words in English to me, also got a very big hug. A country and a culture that are warm and welcoming with an abundance of hugs to share is always a good sign.
I can give no information on the ride to Viracopos. My eyes were shut the entire time. But the destination was one very big and modern airport with almost no English. I couldn't figure out the check-in kiosk. That really isn't that much of a surprise. I often have trouble with them in my own language, and this wasn't. A very gracious airport employee, so apologetic of his English skills, rescued me.
There was free wifi at the airport, a true sign of civilization in my mind. I received an email from a friend asking if I was now at my destination and relaxed. No, I left home around 10:30 in the morning on Friday and would not reach my destination until 1:00 AM Sunday (with some kind of time zone changes involved). I still was not finished traveling.
Upon arrival in Londrina Airport, I found a group of eight new friends, all wearing T-shirts with my art. They’d driven three hours to hold up a banner and meet me. My host, Geremias, shook with emotion as he hugged me. For him, it was a moment like one of his favorite teacher “feel good” movies Freedom Writers. My visit was that kind of moment for him and his students. Brazil promised to be like no experience I’ve ever had muraling.
I do not accept friends on Facebook that I do not know. But, I have to add a whole gang of new Brazilian friends. Gabriel was the first new one upon arrival. But, there is a friend request list of around FIFTY new friend from Brazil. I have never had a welcome like this before. Murals 50 and 51 in my twenty-fifth country are going to be maravilhosa!
My first Welcoming Committee to be decked out in T-shirts with my art.
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