Lost Paradise

Picinguaba is an idyllic place. After breakfast (which consisted of various sorts of fruits and breads, plus a wonderful coconut cake), we headed for the beach in kayaks. By “we” I mean not only Maria and I, but also a 35-year-old Turkish guy who happened to be all by himself. Kayaking was nice — about 20 minutes ’till we reached the beach and another 20 minutes “across the trees and into the river”. When we found a silent, mysterious spot, we just lay on the kayak for a few minutes, enjoying the brisk quality of winterish tropical sun. The Turkish guy and I stayed there for much longer – I learned that his wife had lost her passport a few days before their trip to Brazil but, fortunately, had just found it and would arrive on the following morning.

When we got back to the hotel, I went into my room, got my books and laid down by the pool. He joined me, with an unlikely hardcover copy on Chinese finance. We ordered caipirinhas and I suggested he read one of my copies. He agreed. When it was almost sunset time, he told me: “He’s smart” (meaning the author). Indeed, he plans on reading two of his most famous novels – btw, he’s better than smart, he’s sexy.

At night, the three of us had wine and dinner and we talked about Orhan Pamuk, the Turkish Nobel Prize winner. It had been a nice, smooth day, no great tragedies or dangers. But on the following morning, when we were introduced to his wife and child, I couldn’t help thinking of a different outcome. Two girls drag a foreigner to an island (actually, convince him to go kayaking for the first time in his life), then all three have drinks while discussing Brazilians’ different levels of desire. I’m glad we’re all civilized.

Now, I have to go to sleep, for tomorrow I’ll be up early in the morning to exercise (I ought to lose the extra pounds I’ve been putting on lately). I can’t help thinking I’ve started a blog that doesn’t have a reader. But then, as the pousada’s owner has told me, all writers write because they fail in communicating with the world in the usual way.