Hi there! I'm a newly married suburbanite-turned-urbanite, trying to turn our first house (apartment, let's be honest) into our first home, all while trying to make it not look like it's straight out of a Pottery Barn catalog. Welcome to the crazy-ness.


Tuesday, April 30, 2013

B To The Razil

Hey homies.

We are alive, and we are tanner than heck. Actually, my skin matches my desk at work. Holla!

I'll start at the beginning of this whole trip-a-roo.

We left MSP on April 4th. Our flight was as such: MSP to ATL to GRU (aka Sao Paolo aka WORST AIRPORT IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD) to FLN (Florianopolis). The entire thing was scheduled to take about 22-ish hours. Kill me now, please and thank you.

The weather when we left MSP was gorg, seriously. It took about 3 hours to get down to Hotlanta (haha, I'm funny btw). BUT when we got to the ATL, there was a full on thunderstorm going on. The pilot comes on the intercom and says "We're now in Atlanta, but because of the storm, we're going to be in a holding pattern for about 45 minutes". BAD NEWS BEARS. We only had an hour layover to get from our gate onto our international flight. When I had called the Delta rep a couple of days earlier, I had checked to make sure that would be enough time. "We usually recommend at least 60 minutes for a layover, and you have... 61... sooo". Literally verbatim. Of course I went into full on panic mode. Somehow, our pilot found a hole in the thunderstorm (how, I don't know?) and got us landed only 10 minutes late, hallelujah. So it was Kyle and I sprinting through that Atlanta airport, pushing people out of the way. It happened. Ran up 3 different double flight escalators. Managed to get to our gate as they were finishing boarding. Again, hallelujah. We finally got onto our plane and got settled in for our longest leg of the trip. Good thing they had the personal TV screens for us! BTW, I'd highly recommend This is 40, Silver Linings Playbook, and No Strings Attached.

Once we got to Sao Paolo, it was through immigrations for us. Biggest joke of immigrations/customs ever. And worlds worst airport. Honestly, I don't know how Brazil is going to survive the World Cup and Olympics. But that's neither here nor there. We got on our last plane and headed to Florianopolis. Never heard of Floripa (as they call it)? Don't worry, neither has anyone else. The only reason we knew about Floripa is because my uncle lives down there!

This place, you guys, was unreal. We went to my uncles beach house, which is located in Barra do Lagoa (say it ba-ha, they don't say R, they say H), and stayed there for the first couple of days.

Seriously. Seriously.

The first full day we were in Barra, we went on a BIG LONG hike. I'm talking 3+ hours up in those hills. I swear we half rock climbed. But there some of the most gorgeous views.

This is the canal that runs through the town that goes from the lake (which you can see below) to the ocean and is littered with all of those little restaurants and fishing boats that you see. 

More later!


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