Friday, December 20
After an easy flight from SP to Rio, I check into room 703 in the Debret – nice suite, king bed, good AC. God, beautiful beach day. I’ll relax and take a break from mongering. Maybe visit a churrascaria.

Before I even get unpacked, Don calls to tell me he’s at Alcazar. Headed to the beach, I stop to introduce myself. I meet Mike from Phoenix who’s a “Normal tourist”. We chat about hiking, favela tours, Corcavado, and Iguacu. He also mentions in a “this isn’t my reason for being here” kind of way that he’s visited some termas. He’s a schizo like me, Seizing the opportunity, my conscience rudely interjects. “No thanks. Too much yesterday.”

Two more beers and time and discipline are slipping away, Rio style. Getting past prime tanning hour. The boys are getting mobilized. Yup, you guessed it…4pm. Don, Mike, Jason the Aussie, and his mates from the oil rigs are making a L’uomo run. Yesterday seems like, well, yesterday. But, I’m on VACATION. What the hell. I agree to a quick fly by just to see the place. Six of us pile into two cabs. Didn’t even see the beach.

For those of you keeping score: Seaman 3, Tourist 0.

Fast forward six hours. I’m still at L’Uomo. Everyone else is gone. I’ve had my first Mulata, Giana. Tall, dark skin, green eyes, rockin’ body. And I couldn’t believe the pre- and post-cabina action. We relax at the bar for hours. I also meet Camilla and Giovanna. We also have drinks. Kid in the candy store doesn’t full do justice to the scene. I believe at some point a hug Don and mutter something about never going home.

Afterward, I venture home and sleep. Going to Corcavado tomorrow.