Delays mean another trip to Tatsfield Bus Stop...

Warlingham Green, Monday 6th April 2015, 0730 hrs.

Andy was slightly delayed but it was enough for us to rethink our planned ride to Westerham. The weather was fantastic: blue skies and cottonwool clouds and the temperature much warmer than the rest of the Easter weekend. We decided to head for the bus stop again, although we toyed with the churchyard and the village, and when we got there we did what we always do: drink tea and munch BelVita biscuits.

Lycra monkeys. Give them a bit of hot weather and out they come; you see hardly any during the colder months of the year and then suddenly there they are in their Lycra shorts and sponsored tops, although they're not even sponsored, they're just wearing tops covered in logos. And what's with the new fashion of brightly-coloured footwear? Luminous footwear!

As we sat at the bus stop, watching a passing Lycra monkey who was wearing bright red above-the-knee shorts we wondered what must be going through his mind as he pulls on his gear in the morning. Can he really think he looks good? And as for those idiots in the brightly-coloured footwear, what must they be thinking? Clearly, they must all think they look really good otherwise they wouldn't wear such awful clothing. Instead, they'd look like us in our Tesco ASBO specials (well, MY Tesco ASBO specials). Perhaps all that 'precious grams' stuff is because they know that if they put on a bit of weight they wouldn't look so good in their Lycra garments?

Later in the day I drove to Westerham and the weather was still wonderful. There was bright sunshine and plenty of people wandering about, enjoying the weather and the attractions on offer in this Kent market town.

Next Saturday Andy's riding to Brighton, leaving me to motivate myself to get out and ride the bike. I'll probably ride to the bus stop again, unless Phil's up for a longer ride. Andy should be back on Sunday so we might finally reach Westerham. I'm not even sure if we've been to Westerham in 2015 yet. Hold on a second while I check the archive...and the answer is no, we haven't riden to Westerham this year. In fact, the last time we were there was Sunday 30 November 2014.

Time for tea at the Tatsfield Bus Stop...

Another rear wheel puncture means we ride to the Tatsfield Bus Stop...

Sunday 5th April 2015: Having fixed my first puncture in a long time on Good Friday afternoon, resulting in the abandonment of our first ride of the Easter break, I was looking forward to Sunday morning's cycling.

500 yards from Warlingham Green

We'd enjoyed a brief run to Botley Hill on Saturday morning and now it was looking as if the weather was improving – and the temperature warming up. A jaunt to Westerham was on the cards, but it was not to be; about 500 yards from Warlingham Green I detected the familiar wobble of a puncture. As always, at first I didn't believe it. Surely not again! But soon the tyre had deflated and I was forced to walk to the green, past the retirement homes, with that familiar squeak of rubber on tarmac to accompany me. Having arrived at the green I up-ended the bike, whipped off the rear wheel and set to work on fixing the puncture while chatting to Andy about this and that.

The delay meant we had to abandon our trip to Westerham and instead head for the familiar Tatsfield Bus Stop. The weather had improved considerably. Unlike Saturday there were no puddles on the road, the temperature was warmer and it wasn't so grey and overcast. The improved weather brought out the Lycra monkeys.

Andy and I had a few interesting things to discuss, including (briefly) a little chat about Top Gear and Clarkson, but having bored you already with this, I won't say anymore. We munched our Belvita biscuits, we sipped tea and probably chatted for longer than normal before deciding to head for home. The weather was getting warmer but it was still a little chilly as we raced back along the B269 towards Warlingham Green where we parted company, vowing to ride out again tomorrow.

Fixing the puncture on Warlingham Green

Fast way to Botley Hill for tea and biscuits...

Saturday 4th April 2015: It must have rained overnight as there were huge puddles everywhere, especially along the B269 and this can be dangerous if you're riding a bike as the urge is to drift into the middle of the road to avoid them (especially if your bike doesn't have mudguards!). The sky was dark and overcast and, let's face it, it might have rained at any time, but it didn't, which was fortunate, as today we were riding to Botley Hill where there is little, in fact, no cover whatsoever.

Andy and I met on Warlingham Green and headed off towards our destination in a good mood. I hadn't been on the bike for a long time, or at least it felt that way. The last time I rode out was to the churchyard prior to my trip to Rio, which has been well-documented on this blog (just scroll back a few posts or check out individual postings on the side panel to the right of this text).

The bikes at Botley Hill on Saturday 4th April 2015

When we reached Botley Hill we parked the bikes and got out the tea and biscuits, which we scoffed while discussing a variety of topics, including, of course, Clarkson's recent sacking, although not for long. The main topic of conversation was the new café/bicycle shop that recently opened in Westerham. Andy brought along an advertisement that had appeared in his local rag, which shows that the shop has some kind of link to a fitness company. We talked about the 'boutique' look of the place, which we both disagreed with (the Tudor Rose Tearoom is more in keeping with what a cyclist wants from a caff in our opinion) and the fact that the ad has a load of people standing in front of the café/bike shop in some kind of cycling uniform – possibly a  Lycra uniform – was also a little off-putting as we also abhor Lycra monkeys with a vengeance. What we also found slightly irksome about the ad was the phrase that went something like 'you don't have to wear Lycra' to visit the caff, which implied, of course, that the Lycra Monkey was their primary focus but, alright, if you don't wear it you can still come in. It's a bit like saying, "You don't have to wear Lycra, but it helps.'

Andy said that the worst thing about the new caff would have to be the sound of Lycra Monkeys in those awful cycling shoes they wear, clickety clicking across the wood or laminated flooring of the establishment. "Imagine. You're sitting there and suddenly the door opens – dinga ling! – and then the next thing you hear is 'click, click, click, click, click' as the Lycra Monkey makes his way into the shop," said Andy. I nodded knowingly as we continued to enjoy our tea and Belvita biscuits (which somehow taste different when you're standing up – there's no bench at Botley Hill).

And then, of course, we discussed the Lycra Monkey and asked our usual question: why? Why get up in the morning and put on body-hugging, brightly-coloured Lycra leggings and a top covered in brand names? Why? You're not being sponsored. And why do they wear those luminous cycling shoes?

Something has happened to the Botley Hill Farmhouse but we're not exactly sure what. It's still there, but they've tidied up around the pub itself and Andy says the marquee, which was used to host live bands, has gone and is going to be replaced with a more permanent structure. Good news, I said, because if there's new management involved (I'm not saying there is, but IF there is) then they don't want to get rid of the live bands as I'd imagine they are the chief revenue source for the pub.

The ride back was cold and, as usual, there was a headwind. I was glad to be out on the bike again. Not riding for a couple of weeks or more was noticeable. I found it quite a hard slog cycling up Church Way this morning, which shows how easy it is to get out of condition. Tomorrow we're planning to ride to Westerham as the weather is supposed to improve for Sunday and Bank Holiday Monday. Here's hoping!

Early morning puncture leads to a Good Friday abort text

I haven't been cycling for ages... or so it seems. The last time I went out was before I travelled to Rio. Andy and I went to the Tatsfield Churchyard and chatted, if I recall correctly, about the whole Jeremy Clarkson fiasco. Well, was it really a fiasco? Now that it's been announced that he won't be having his contract renewed, I can understand why he's no longer the lead presenter of Top Gear. In essence, you can't hit somebody at work at get away with it, so what kind of message would it send out if Clarkson was allowed to stay in his job, especially after the whole Savile affair? But Clarkson's departure is still bad news for those of us who enjoyed watching Top Gear on a Sunday evening. I mean, now that it's gone, all that's left is Poldark and while I don't mind the Cornish drama, I'd much prefer to watch it AFTER my dose of Top Gear, in the same way that my dad used to have a spoonful of sugar to lighten the load of his Seven Seas cod liver oil. I find myself watching old episodes of Top Gear on BBC 3 or on Dave and, in all honesty, it's all very sad that an era has come to an end. But enough already!

So, it's Good Friday and my plan was to head out, possibly to Westerham, with Andy. I was up early, I'd eaten a bowl of All Bran and a hard-boiled egg and then, after sorting out the tea, headed for the garage where I found a flat rear tyre. I was already running 10 minutes late and had texted Andy that I was on my way, which, technically, was true, but the sight of the flat rear tyre deflated my ambitions and for a short while I just stood there, staring at the bike and wondering what to do. Having not been on the bike for a couple of weeks – last weekend was a wash-out (late night stopped the Saturday ride and rain meant there was no ride on Sunday) – I really wanted to go out and I figured that it might simply be a flat tyre after a fortnight of the bike languishing in the garage. I found the pump, pumped up the tyre and then wheeled the bike out of the garage, but then I heard a distinct hissing. This was no slow puncture. So I wheeled the bike back into the garage, turned it upside down and then looked at my watch. It was getting late so I sent Andy an abort text. Oddly, at the time of writing, I've heard nothing back so I don't know whether he went out alone or not. He normally does unless it's been raining so I'm hoping to hear back from him as I don't think he'll be going tomorrow.

My plan is to fix the puncture and get out there Saturday, Sunday and Monday and I'm hoping to throw in a trip to Westerham too. Right now there's nowt much to do (apart from a little bit of work). Outside the weather is overcast. It's not raining, but it's dull, athough it's not cold so a ride today would have been really good, but it was not to be, sadly.

Gambling on the General Election
That's about it for now. Not much else is happening. In the news we've had a televised political debate with the three main parties – Labour, Lib-Dem and Conservatives – plus the likes of UKIP, the Greens, the SNP and Plaid Cymru – and I'm none the wiser as to who to vote for in the imminent General Election. Having said that, I might be in the USA on the day of voting so I might not vote at all, which, in all honesty, was how I was feeling anyway. I certainly wouldn't be voting for Cameron (Conservative) as he represents the party of the privileged. As for Labour, well, perhaps if David Milliband was in charge and as for the rest of them, no chance, so there you have it. If I'm around I'll probably vote for Milliband, just purely for the hell of it, otherwise I'll be wasting my vote, although I have considered having a bit of fun with it and indulging in a bit of kamikazee voting: taking out the Conservatives who I couldn't vote for out of principle, there will be six parties left, one for every number on the dice. Now that would add a little bit of excitement to the proceedings, wouldn't it! I'll let you know what I decide to do. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I think I'll actually do that unless I'm out of the country, in which case I won't even vote.

And the winner is...?
One roll, no best of three, I'd alloted one number to each party. 1. Ukip. 2. Labour. 3. Liberal Democrats. 4. The Green Party. 5. The Scottish Nationalist Party. 6. Plaid Cymru.

I found a dice, rolled it and...well, it's a secret ballot so why should I tell you, but I'm going to stick with the number rolled, which kind of goes against my gut feeling, but what the hell!

Should have gone out on Saturday...

Andy's ride on Saturday

There's no excuse, Saturday was the best day in terms of the weather and despite the fact that the weathermen said it would start raining by lunchtime, it didn't. Sadly I didn't go out on Saturday morning – although Andy did (see route map of ride). It was touch and go as to whether Sunday would work, but, having risen an hour earlier than usual (the clocks went forward last night so it was really 0500hrs when I got up) it looked alright outside. A bit dark and grey, perhaps, but certainly fine for cycling. So, having made the tea and watched a bit of BBC Breakfast (Saracens beat Harlequins 42-14 in the rugby and Wales did well in the footy thanks to Gareth Bale – not that I'm a fan of either sport) I headed outside to notice that it had started raining. Judging by the greyness I knew it wasn't going let up so I texted Andy and said I was going to see how things were in 15 minutes. The truth was it got a little more persistent, although, having said that, it's now 0745hrs and...hold on while I take a look... it's still raining, albeit not heavily. I think we'd have got a soaking, put it that way, even if we'd rode to Warlingham Green and back.

So here I am, sitting in the conservatory and there's been no cycling all weekend. Not good. We were going to go to Westerham today but it'll have to wait until next week. Hopefully, bearing in mind that the clocks have gone forward and the daffodils are in bloom, the weather should improve. Next weekend is Easter and that means we can cycle more than just our usual two rides (there's Good Friday and Easter Monday added on too).

Anyway, until then, enjoy your week.

An old shot of our bikes somewhere out there...

Café & Cycle Store in Westerham

Our dreams in tatters! A bike shop and caff!

On a chance drive to Westerham yesterday for a teacake and a pot of ginger tea – well, I didn't set out solely to drink ginger tea and eat a teacake – I stumbled across this rather interesting shop. Interesting in the sense that it reminds me of a conversation between Andy and myself while sitting on the green sipping tea and munching our traditional cereal bar. In essence, when the Kent market town's Barclay's decided to shut up shop there was a 'to let' sign over the door. As we sat there, Andy and I dreamed up an idea for a bicycle shop combined with a café – just what the doctor ordered, we thought. What dyed-in-the-wool cyclist could resist a decent caff AND bike shop combined? A place where they could enjoy tea and cake AND get their bike fixed? We thought about it often but didn't really go any further than that. But now, somebody has grabbed the bike by the horns and opened a combined café and bike shop and here it is (see pic).

Seeing it I had to laugh. Somebody had stolen our dream! I went inside and, if I'm honest, it was a little too Lycra monkey for me, a little too 'boutiquey' and mildly minimalist and the caff was certainly no way near as 'cosy' as the Tudor Rose across the green, but hats off to those who opened it and good luck.

Click here for more in-depth review.

Diarr-Rio! When it all went wrong...

Well, not drastically wrong. I'm now back in the UK after a relaxing flight home, but the bit before was a little trying to say the least and very disappointing as I'd rather hoped that Thursday (my last full day in Rio) would be spent sightseeing as opposed to one site (a building site across the road – see view from my hotel room shot in earlier post). You see, all was well with the world. I went down for dinner around 8pm on Wednesday night having completed a little bit of work in my hotel room. There was a live band playing in the Atlantico restaurant as I took my seat, ordered a glass of Malbec, asparagus soup and sea bass followed by a fresh fruit salad. The view of Copacabana Bay at night was spread before me and I was glad that all the hard work was over and a day of being a tourist lay ahead of me.

The 'Sofatel' – much needed sofa for weary old me

The food seemed fine enough and by 9pm I was back in my room and ready for bed. But around midnight things changed. I awoke with a stomach ache and lo and behold I had the shits! Just what the doctor ordered. That toilet observation window (see pic in previous post) would have been most unwelcomed had my wife been sharing the room with me – why was it there, I often wondered, who wants a window on people taking a dump? Fortunately I was alone so in many ways the TV was on but nobody was watching. In short a broken night led to chronic weariness the following day. I lolled about and slept until around 11.30am when I got my act together enough to extend my check-out by a couple of hours and then went back to my room to pack: tiresome at the best of times, much worse when under the weather.

After checking out and ordering a cab to the airport for later – I was flying out of Rio at 1055pm – there was nothing left to do other than to find somewhere to crash and this meant one of the sunloungers by the pool, the business centre and then some easy chairs adjacent to the first floor Atlantico restaurant, which might have been the cause of the problem (there was no way of really knowing). While I never drank tap water I did clean my teeth with it and I used the water from the mains to wash and shower, it could have been that although I was hardly going to wash simply by tipping loads of small bottles of mineral water over my head; or it could have the fresh fruit, which I'm guessing was rinsed in water. Who knows? The long and the short of it was that I was weary I couldn't really risk finding myself at the top of Corcovado in need of a toilet, so first I sat in the business centre reading Ayn Rand, then I moved to the poolside where I lay for a couple of hours until around 5pm when I found the wonderful sofa covered in cushions (see pic above). I set the alarm on my iphone for 7pm, and then having fallen asleep, I awoke and just lie there for 10 minutes or so until the time was right to find my car to the airport. I was feeling alright, but I was weak and tired and things weren't going to get any better.

In the cab, I gazed out of the window onto the busy streets of Rio. It was busy, there was a lot of traffic but eventually I reached the airport, bade farewell to my driver and set about the boring and tedious process of going through security. I don't know about you, but whenever I hear the name Richard Reeve I feel like reaching for my revolver. Once through I discovered that Rio airport was a pretty sparse place: a couple of awful food outlets and and duty free shop and that was it and the last thing I wanted to do was risk another bout of stomach problems so, having not eaten all day, I continued to fast and eventually it was time to board the plane. Unlike the journey out when I was sitting in seat 37b (the exit door row so plenty of leg room) I was now in seat C30, an aisle seat, so I had plenty of room (for just one of my legs, the right one). Fortunately seat 29 C in front of me was unoccupied and offered plenty of leg room as there was no seat 28C (just 28A and 28B). I asked the steward if I could change seats and he said I could. Result!

This stark shot of Rio airport sums up how I felt...

For the next nine hours I slept – or rather dozed – and didn't give a damn about the odd bit of turbulence, which the pilot later apologised for, stating that it might have helped passengers who were trying to sleep. He was right in a way, the 'gentle rocking' as he described it over the intercom prior to landing, did help and with only 1hr, 59 minutes left of the flight I found myself awake. I listened to Brian Eno and Karl Hyde's album High Life but was bored by the start of track two and switched to Vivaldi's Four Seasons and Edward Elgar's Land of Hope and Glory (highly appropriate as we approached the UK) before deciding to watch Top Gear, a kind of 'best of' entitled something like Ambitious but Rubbish, it was brilliant, and soon we landed at Terminal Five Heathrow where a car was waiting to take me home. When I got there, nobody was in and I had to wait around 10 minutes before I could get in and now, here I am.

No cycling today, I didn't think it wise, but I'll be back on the bike tomorrow morning without fail especially if the weather is as good as it was this morning, although it's clouded over now and is bloody cold...compared with the weather in Rio! Remember, it was 33 degrees, not the pathetic 8 degrees it is here in London.

A few more images from my brief time in Rio de Janeiro

Yours truly on Copacabana Beach, Monday 16 March 2015

Room 656, Sofitel Copacabana Beach – note toilet observation window

This view from room 656 of the Sofitel Copacabana

My last night in Rio...

It's odd. Odd to think that I can actually sit here, in my hotel room, and write that I've just had dinner, al fresco, looking out on to Copacabana Bay, the light sea breeze, the music from a live band playing no more than a few feet away and, well, that's it. Incredible. And all thanks to the wonders of air travel. Odder still, perhaps, to consider that this time tomorrow I'll be arriving at Rio's international airport ready to embark upon an eleven hour flight home to London.

Copacabana Bay from the Sofitel's Atlantico restaurant

Before I flew here I was in two minds about the place. I'd heard bad things about crime and let's not for one minute suggest that there isn't any crime here; there is, but, touch wood, so far, I've not experienced anything and I hope I don't. For me, however, the key thing is the weather. It's been 33 degrees here and, at an early hour it's been at least 25 degrees. You really can't go wrong, especially when you consider it's March. March! I dread to think about the weather back home, but when I left Heathrow it was drizzly and grey. Now there's a phrase: 'drizzly and grey'. But it sums up the United Kingdom both in terms of the people and the climate. Horrible! I always feel a million times better in the sunshine and we don't get enough of it in the UK.

Asparagus soup...

 So, I've been sitting in the Atlantico restaurant looking out over the bay, listening to the music, breathing in the fresh sea air, eating wonderful, fresh, exotic fruits, it's been incredible and let's not forget that during the day I've been working. And I'm serious about that: I've been working. Even tonight, after the business was officially over, I sat here in front of my lap top working until around 1930hrs before considering dinner. And now I'm back, it's 2039hrs and I'm sitting at my desk, in front of the laptop, writing this blogpost. If you've been reading my posts you'll know that I'm in two minds about what to do tomorrow and a lot of it hinges on what happens with the hotel. I have to check out by noon, which means I can enjoy a leisurely breakfast – fresh papaya, fresh mango, fresh melon, wonderful fruit juices and, of course, an Earl Grey tea – before working out what to do regarding a possible late check-out. I'll need one as my flight home doesn't leave until 2255hrs. That means I need to be at the airport at and, therefore, I've got the whole day in Rio. The thing is I've also got my suitcase and laptop and what the hell do I wear? I know, that sounds a bit girly, but there's no option other than shorts and a tee-shirt here in Rio but if I've got nowhere to change, like in a hotel room, then I might find myself arriving at Heathrow in the same shorts and tee shirt and the chances are the shorts (which are basically trunks) will be wet from a swim in the sea (if the weather's hot that's definitely what I'm doing and I'd like a dip in BOTH hotel pools too if possible).

Sea bass main course.

While having dinner and listening to the band and staring out on Copacabana Bay I watched people playing football and was reminded of the old cliché about Brazilian footy players and how they all start by playing on the beach. Well, one thing I will say is that the standard of the basic 'jumpers for goal posts' game over here is at the top of the curve. I mean seriously good football. Not that I know much about the 'beautiful game' but I guess I know enough to spot decent players even if I am watching from a distance of over 500 yards (and it's dark).

It's odd. That's the second time I've said that, but it IS odd. There's all this talk about high crime rates and how things can literally kick off at any second and at any place, but people wander around outside of the hotel, they play footy on the beach, ride bikes along the cycle lane skirting the beach, wander alone or with pals, nobody seems too worried, but that's not to say there aren't problems...there are BIG problems. As for me, well, I've stayed in basically. I have been to the beach and swam in the sea and it was fine, but I haven't gone for a wander as I might have done in mainland Europe or the USA. Fortunately the hotel offers me everything I need so why wander out? Which brings me back to my planned trip. I'll have to organise whatever I decide to do tomorrow because, for some reason, every night I've been here (apart from Sunday when I arrived) I've gone to bed early and by that I mean before 9pm. And here I am again, it's 2053hrs and I'm thinking about getting some kip.

Fresh fruit salad...

Dinner was great: asparagus soup followed by sea bass and then a fresh fruit salad with passion fruit sorbet. Wonderful! And let's not forget the Malbec and the still mineral water – it was all good. I'm starting to yawn, the air con is full on and needs to be turned down and I need to get ready for tomorrow (it's going to be a long day unfortunately).

Hopefully I will do something, but it all depends on what the hotel says about me extending my welcome. Currently check-out is noon, which might be okay, but I'd like to have access to a room for most of the day, otherwise I'm just camping out all day and that won't do, will it?

What to do on my last day in Rio?

On Copacabana Beach this morning...25 degrees at 0830.

I've been thinking about taking a trip and there's a lot of stuff available according to the concierge. He's given me a sheet of paper detailing all the trips available and the problem with some of them is that I just don't have the time. There's a number of trips marked as 'Rio by boat' and this includes Angra dos Reis – a full day tour to the 'beautiful islands of the Angra Bay, stops for swimming in transparent clear waters. Lunch included.' Sounds good, but it lasts for 13 hours meaning that I'd probably just get back in time to catch my flight. Actually, it's not a bad call. It leaves the hotel at 0715hrs, so add 13 to that and that's 2015hrs. I take off around 2200hrs...hmmm. it's possible but if there are problems I might miss the flight so perhaps not.

Then there's Rio by Boat. A boat ride into the Guanabara Bay and part of Copacabana Bay (that's where I'm located). This is only five hours from 0810hrs, meaning I'd get back around 1pm. That's definitely possible. I'll steer clear of the jet ski ride (too dangerous and too expensive), the Rio boat club trip involves dancing (not my scene at all and besides it's only on Monday and Saturday) and then there's a private speed boat ride that takes four hours but it's a little pricey for my budget and besides, I'm warming to another day like Monday just hanging around on the beach, having a swim and then lounging by the pool reading Ayn Rand.

A statue of a musician on the beach...

 The land-based trips are all relatively short. There's a trip to Corcovado to see Christ the Redeemer, another trip to Sugarloaf mountain, this is what I've seriously been considering, and then there's a combined trip to Sugarloaf and to Corcovado. Lastly a trip to Petropolis – the Imperial City and billed as a 'nice place to visit' as it 'fascinates the visitors due to its historical treasures'.

There are a couple of daily jeep tours to the Tijuca Forest (three hours) and Santa Teresa and downtown, the latter being an exploration of cobbled streets and the neighbourhood's 'unique architectural styles' and the stunning views of the city. The Tijuca Forest is the biggest urban forest in the world and one of the last remnants of Atlantic rain forest.

It all sounds interesting and I'm sorely tempted to check out Sugarloaf mountain as it's only four hours from 0810hrs, meaning I'll be back in time for my flight. But equally, Rio by boat sounds good and failing that the only option is purely to take life a little easy, get some work done, perhaps have a swim in the sea like on Monday and then chill by the pool. One might argue that, having flown all this way to the other side of the world, I should really do something like visit Sugarloaf mountain, visit Tijuca Forest or Santa Teresa and downtown. It would be a sin to do nothing as who knows when I'll be back here again, possibly never. I've already chilled on the beach and by the pool.

Hopefully I'll get another swim in tomorrow morning

Apparently if you visit the statue of Christ the Redeemer you're supposed to make a wish and it's likely to come true, I'm told. I've got many wishes so perhaps if just one of them becomes true, things will be alright. I think I've made up my mind...but then again, I'm not sure. Everybody goes to Corcovado but I wonder how many visit the Tijuca Forest or Santa Teresa? I've not got long to decide and, let's face it, just hanging around on the beach might be a good thing too. I could hire a bike, ride around the bay, then take a dip, have lunch...but because my flight is at the ridiculous time of 2255hrs I could probably do everything...although I'll need a late check-out. Now there's something I didn't think about when I was booking this trip. I can't do anything about that, however, until tomorrow morning...after breakfast, of course.

Another shot of Copacabana Beach...and why not?