Fam sleeps in again (been averaging about 10:30 am).
Sergio asks if we'd like to see Brennand. I have no idea what Brennand is, but Google does, and it looks interesting.
Life is catching up with us...mechanics like laundry, breakfast, etc. are considerably harder while on the road. Our limited cell service is used to coordinate via Whatsapp and translate a lot of things via Google Traduz.
I'm hopelessly behind on my blog (both Recife travel blog and FIFA analysis). Not sure why I insist on blogging anyway. The only thing that makes me feel better is catching up. I'll be happy some day to have blogged, but it is stressful. Less stressful than waiting endlessly for everyone to wake up...
None of you have received postcards. We've found almost no gifts.
We have a heart-to-heart and decide it is best to split up the for day.
Michele and Ariel will go shopping or to the beach.
Zach and I will go to Brennand.
Is the beach safe? Is walking around town safe? Vanessa to the rescue. She tells us what to avoid, and agrees to meet the girls in the afternoon. Our guardian angel, Nina, takes the girls to Rio Mar Shopping, considerably bigger than the nearby Recife Shopping. It rains, so beach is scrapped.
Zach and I order a taxi and ask to be taken to Brennand.
The driver is familiar with it. Too familiar. Which Brennand he asks? He suggests Castillo Brennand. We think we want the other one. Sculptura? Sculptura. The Castillo is very beautiful...nao, Oficina Brenand por favor.
We drive through areas we'd dare not walk, through barrios and highways and barrios again, and then out into a dense industrial countryside. We see horse carts and unusual trees and a lot of rundown buildings. In places, it looks like what I imagine a war zone to resemble.
Down a bumpy dirt, mud, and gravel road, many miles walk from the nearest place to eat. A clearing opens up into an old industrial site converted to a sculpture garden.
It takes about 45 minutes total, and the fare is R$45 (about $22 USD).
The driver says something about waiting or hope (espera?). He is saying we will wait a long time for a taxi out here, so he will return to drive us back. How long do we need? Surely an hour isn't enough.
We spend 15 minutes figuring out if he means 3 hours or 3 o'clock. It is 1:00 (13:00) now. We settle on two hours. He will meet us back here at 3 o'clock (15:00). No, he will wait for us for 2 hours in the parking lot. No charge. He motions to indicate the meter will start back up at zero. Yet another guardian angel, brought to us by Easy Taxi.
We make our way to the gate and haggle with the ticket booth attendant over the price of admission (is he asking if I'm sixty?) Must. Learn. Portuguese. Numbers.
My 15-year old son is strapping but still half-priced. R$15 for the two of us.
Holy pottery sculptures, this is worth seeing! Glad we choose "Oficina Brennand" (Francisco B.) but maybe we'll see "Castillo Brennand" (Ricardo B.) another day.
The art is absurdist/surreal. Approachable, but not beautiful in the classic sense. Think Bacon meets Gaudi. Reminds me of the Dali museum in Figueras. The Cambodian-style temple either inspired or was inspired by Apocalypse Now, as evidenced by the Joseph Conrad quote on the wall.
We see a sculpture that undoubtedly could have inspired the faces of the N'avi in Avatar.
The place is nearly empty and we share the indoors and outdoors only with some gardening staff plus a small menagerie of dogs, horses, cattle, and black swans. Surely our paltry admission price wouldn't pay an hour's water bill.
It appears to be supported by selling floor tile and housewares. I suddenly crave floor tiles and housewares.
There is an overwhelming amount of art. We spend 30 minutes on the first of 10 stations. We quicken our pace and eventually manage to finish in 90 minutes.
Time for a delicious lunch in the on-site restaurant. We give some travel tips to some Americans at the next table. We are starting to feel like experts.
Our guardian cab driver is waiting at the appointed rendezvous point. The ride back is R$44. I give him R$50, despite tipping being unusual for cabs. Round trip R$95 (about $45 USD). I should have tipped him more.
Girls are still at the Rio Mar Shopping, about 20 minutes away.
Zach and I go to the Recife Shopping, walking distance from our apartment. We do some manly things like check out the post office, the bank, and t-shirts. Zach finds the perfect gift for himself (Mom will not be happy) and for his cousin (Jake will be).
Day's over? No, just beginning.
We coordinate with friends and resolve to go the USA pre-party at a nearby bar, in anticipation of tomorrow's match versus Germany.
Our friend Vanessa worries they won't allow non-US people into the party. "It will be all right. We need you as a body-guard." It is three blocks away. Vanessa points out that we are targets because we are walking. Brazilians drive across the street. Now we understand why they offered to drive us to the mall and beach on our first day here.
She is really worried she won't get in, thinking it was being thrown by the US Consulate. "Won't they be checking passports?"
"Don't worry. We know Americans" (Seeing as we've relied on her for basic functions like how to use a phone, she is justifiably skeptical.)
"Trust us," I say, "we will get you in."
Not. We get there about 8:30. Line is long and not moving. Power inside bar is out (probably due to the huge spotlights out front). It looks hopeless. We contemplate a spill-over bar.
I walk towards the door and manage to find the only non-English speaker within a 50-yard radius. Lady at front of line says they may let another 100 people in before shutting the doors. We are about 110 people back in line. Apparently, we were supposed to make reservations on line.
Maybe we will go to the party our friend Raphael talked about. Oops, same party, and he is already inside. Ugh.
I go back to give the bad news. Vanessa knows someone at the bar and secures five wristbands for our party.. We feel like supermodels in NYC...front of the line. Inside. "Trust you?! Trust me!" says Vanessa.
And there was much rejoicing. Zach slurring his speech after two beers. Ariel dancing on tables. Michele and I guzzling Caipirinhas.
Vanessa knows Raphael. Of course. Everyone knows everyone in Recife.
And then Will Ferrel showed up, offering to bite as many Germans as necessary.
Home, exhausted. Tomorrow USA Germany!
Thanks Vanessa!
Boa noite!
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