9 storey high palms line Control Square and separate two of the main museums. In a city populated with skyscrapers, Porto Alegre seems supported by nature. The light breeze, even today on an almost Autumn day, does little to alleviate the heat that tingles the skin. Not that the residents seen that bothered. They wear a variety of clothing, no matter the weather, ranging from business dress, traditional Gaucho, high heels, jeans, shorts and almost everywhere you look, Gremio FC shirts.
The people, I'm relaibly informed, sought to succeed from the nation, only to sadly fail in the attempt. But all credit to a city of 2 million that takes on a country of 192 million. Their charisma and attitude are as varied as their dress sense. With fashion reviving the 1980's, I feel a little out of place in my shorts and shirt combo.
Walking through one of the many parks in the city, I'm surprised by the dedication to exercise. It's seems everywhere I look women wear lycra and jogg the paths, while the elderly make use of specifically designated exercise areas. The guys seem to either walk bare chested or sport their football shirts.
The other day was 'Military Day'.
I'm unsure how often this occurs, but the crux of it was, what seemed to be a full regiment of varied army personnel setting up exhibitions, tents for free health checks, promotional material and even a few tanks dotted around. Not that you got to drive them, much the chagrin of my girlfriend.
Every sunday, stalls dot the road that lies parallel to the park, selling woodwork crafts, flip flops, antiques, books, snacks and a multitude of other items, most familiar, some not. If you find yourself missing the home comforts, the centre of our local park boast a fleet of peddilows, giant Swan shapes, foot driven like everywhere else. I had to smile when I saw them.
Bamboo is a common feature here. Sure, the weather's right for them but my naivety prior to arriving left me with a look of surprise on my face when I saw just how much there is. I keep expecting Kung-Fu Panda to leap out.
Born and raised in Sheffield to two loving and polite parents, I was taught patience, respect and yes, polite behaviour. That is something that seems lacking in most major cities, London in particular. It seems so here too, sadly. There's this awful rush that seems to invade the residents. Clearly, the ones I know are lovely, but I'm such a relaxed individual that when that rush comes, I'm more than willing to step aside and wait for the chaos to disperse. Maybe it's just the working mentality? That need to get there as fast as possible, get things done and move on? Because it isn't there at night.
We've been out a few times so far in my short stay and I can't say I've seen anything akin to a hurry at night.
Driving. Now there's something new to me. Not that I'm driving myself (not after the boat or my early endeavours on the moped) or that driving is a foreign concept to me, but drivers all around the world are different. There's a frantic hurry to driving here too, but it's understood.
Quick signals, even quicker turns, no crashes. Really. I can't believe it. None so far anyway.
I remember my father talking about driving in the U.A.E. It was a case of drive as fast as everyone else, get where you're going and dodge the dead camels on the side of the road. Not that there's any camels here, but you get the gist.
Dogs. Lots of dogs. Everywhere.
Brazilians seem to love 'em. Clarissa has two, Joca and Pricilla (he's boistrous to say the least and she's three legged, big-boned and adorable) and her family has seven. Yes, 7!
Having never been a dog person, or rather, never had 'em as pets for more than a few days (a greyhound when I was 9...didn't get along with the cat, surprisingly) I was unsure how I'd be received. I needn't have worried, they love me. Even the yappy wee sausage dog that hates newcomers likes me, or at least tolerates me. That's a step in the right direction.
So far, all's well and I'm liking my new city.
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