Itinerary is set. A week in Rio, an overnight in Iguacu, a few days in SP and a side trip to the Pantanal. My tourist identity makes reservations on varig.com for all these internal flights. Seaman, libido growing from countless idle hours surfing pics on CH, suggests that we “keep the schedule flexible”. Tourist, longing for the flexible backpacker days, concedes

Seaman 1, Tourist 0.

Travel day. 10 hours, Chicago – SP, First Class, 100,000 miles. Carry on contents: a book, Lonely Planet and 30 pages on notes on termas, beach girls, escort agencies, etc (Monger’s Lonely Planet?), and of course, the Vitamin V (can’t risk they lose my luggage). Book comes out first. But my alter ego wants the notes. Schizophrenia setting in. “Analyze this”, Seaman shouts at his confused alter ego as he tosses the book aside and takes out a virtual gynecology exam in a review on Bia from CH. 10 hours later, the book as clean as first-day-on-the-program-pussy and I’ve managed to memorize the names, addresses, hours, girls and fees for every terma in Rio.

Seaman 2, Tourist 0