Wrap-Up

Well, I'm back to the real world yet again. Unfortunately, the hotel we stayed at in Rio was charging 40 American dollars per day for internet access so I was forced by budget to leave you in suspense. So sorry, my loves.

All in all, Brazil was incredible. A++++ in my book. Luckily, my sister isn't as big of a party adventurer as her older sister (me), so, we managed to make it out of Brazil with zero arrests, zero arrest warrants and zero "who is that laying next to me" mornings. This doesn't mean we didn't run rampant. Because no one rolls with me and doesn't. We just erred on the side of caution for the majority of the trip. Key word is "majority". We definitely drank our fair share of sugarcane brandy and most of Rio knew we were there.

I grew an amazing set of brass balls and decided to go hang gliding with Jill in Rio. As a person who suffers from an incredible phobia of heights, jumping off a cliff 1,722 feet in the air required a massive lapse in reason on my part. But, I did it. And, oddly enough, after almost crapping my pants on the takeoff and some minor crocodile tears before takeoff, I thoroughly enjoyed the ride down. When we landed, I looked up and couldn't believe I had managed it sober and without Xanax! I impressed the hell out of myself. But I congratulated myself by double-fisting cervesas.
I fought a Brazilian beer vendor on the beach later in the week for trying to rip me off because I didn't speak the Portuguese. I won. He didn't. He really should have known better.

We also made quite the impression on the national futvolie team. (Futvolie is beach volleyball played with anything but your hands (ha ha - well, not EVERYTHING, but, you get the idea.) You are looking at my personal favorite team member. He spoke no English and can't remember his name, but, damn, was he fun to look at!

Our trip home was slightly taxing, because, of course, the airline we took down to Brazil, Varig, decided to go bankrupt the day before we left to go back to the states. Only in Rachel-land does this happen. BUT, also in Rachel-land, no prisoners are taken. After finally landing in Miami, I had had enough. Those bitches were flying us all the way back to Buffalo, instead of just JFK. I managed to irritate the guy so much that he threw me my US Air tickets and I trotted off with a giant smile on my mug. After traveling for 34 hours my ass was going home and no one was standing in my way. It wasn't first class, but, we survived.

So that's the trip in a coconutshell....but don't be completely fooled by the seemingly innocent trip - because as Jill and I vowed to each other - what happens in Brazil, stays in Brazil. ;)