Yep, that's right and it's been at it for the better part of a week. Stopped now, but it'll be back I'm sure.
Not that I mind, being from Britain we are somewhat familiar with both the pro's and con's of said weather systems.
I personally like the rain. I see dodging eye gauging, umbrella wielding elderly and ignorant folks a challenge. I see the resulting soggy feet and trench foot as a reminder that sooner or later I shall be snuggled up warmly under a blanket. I like sitting in the car, or more recently, the bus and watching the windows steam (occasionally fingering a few words on the glass, but not recently). I like staring out and seeing the rain pool into mini lakes at the side of the road.
This was a dry, grassy area of the local park, prior to the rain and wind. Brutal and majestic.
Said reservoirs will no doubt be gone in the morning however, as Porto Alegre is in the south and as such, it has fickle weather. This makes planning what you're going to wear the following day increasingly difficult. Difficult for folks that care that is. I, as it stands, have been wearing the same shirt for the last three and days and am seriously contemplating going for a fourth.
It rained on the weekend too. That was the day when Clarissa and I, having put off the trip the last few weekends due to bad weather, finally took our day trip to the hamlet of Gramado.
Gramado is a German enclave located the better part of one and a half hours outside of Porto Alegre and is accessible in two ways; a dull, grey, concrete path filled with shops and advertising billboards or via a winding road, through archways of mammoth trees shedding their autumn weight and as it happens, also populated by billboards ads.
We chose the trees. This path is happily called, Rota Romantica.
After passing through the toll roads, we arrived in the drizzly Deutscheland.
Pretty ain't it?!
Most of the buildings are like this.
We parked up and ran (dodging the rain, as we had inevitably forgotten our golf sized umbrella) into the nearest buffet restaurant and I duly weighted my steak laden plate at R$19.00, Clarissa's, by comparison, was a respectable R$8.00. Although there was a real lack of veggie stuff on the menu, so, there you go.
Next stop; Umbrella!
We popped into a shop just over the road and availed ourselves of a very swanky one- black, short (though very large when extended), matt style and button ejected- sweet. I got to wield the potentially harmful implement and was surprisingly successful in managing to avoid eyes.
Further stops included shops. Yep, more shops. I'm not complaining though (for a change). It was cold and neither of us had brought hats or gloves. For my part, I'd not even brought 'em from the UK, believing, as I did, that having been to Brazil once before, in the summer, that Brazil was indeed perpetually warm...I was wrong and am on occasion reminded of this by both weather and girlfriend alike.
So, now gloved in brown, snowflakes and toasty warm on the head with equally brown woollen style, Clarissa and I ventured at a more casual pace- no longer needing the speed to insulate us.
Gramado was wet, sure, but it was a slice of Europe, isolated from the mainland and in fact, separated by quite a few miles (I'm not doing the mathematics on that-you do it). I'm advised that at one point, the region- Serra Gaucha (encompassing Caxias do Sul and Nova Petropolis) thought seriously about adding a dry ski slope. They didn't in the end. What they do have though, is the festival de Gramado, a major film festival in Brazil. Not sure when it's on, but I wanna go!
So. That was Gramado for this trip. We're gonna go back, but I think we'll wait until the rain eases and the sun re-emerges. There are hiking trails to scale and given my recent conversion to exercise, I'm up for it!
On the way back we stopped and bought a kilo of Pinhao, derived from the Brazilian Pine tree or Parana pine. Basically, it's the pine cones that drop, are then boiled in salted water over a few hours and consumed by nibbling the hard ends to push the yellowy insides out. I did the boiling, Clarissa added more salt (I tend to under salt everything) and we feasted...as did Pricilla and Joca, because they kept looking at us with those big pleading eyes.
Not that I mind, being from Britain we are somewhat familiar with both the pro's and con's of said weather systems.
I personally like the rain. I see dodging eye gauging, umbrella wielding elderly and ignorant folks a challenge. I see the resulting soggy feet and trench foot as a reminder that sooner or later I shall be snuggled up warmly under a blanket. I like sitting in the car, or more recently, the bus and watching the windows steam (occasionally fingering a few words on the glass, but not recently). I like staring out and seeing the rain pool into mini lakes at the side of the road.
This was a dry, grassy area of the local park, prior to the rain and wind. Brutal and majestic.
Said reservoirs will no doubt be gone in the morning however, as Porto Alegre is in the south and as such, it has fickle weather. This makes planning what you're going to wear the following day increasingly difficult. Difficult for folks that care that is. I, as it stands, have been wearing the same shirt for the last three and days and am seriously contemplating going for a fourth.
It rained on the weekend too. That was the day when Clarissa and I, having put off the trip the last few weekends due to bad weather, finally took our day trip to the hamlet of Gramado.
Gramado is a German enclave located the better part of one and a half hours outside of Porto Alegre and is accessible in two ways; a dull, grey, concrete path filled with shops and advertising billboards or via a winding road, through archways of mammoth trees shedding their autumn weight and as it happens, also populated by billboards ads.
We chose the trees. This path is happily called, Rota Romantica.
After passing through the toll roads, we arrived in the drizzly Deutscheland.
Pretty ain't it?!
Most of the buildings are like this.
We parked up and ran (dodging the rain, as we had inevitably forgotten our golf sized umbrella) into the nearest buffet restaurant and I duly weighted my steak laden plate at R$19.00, Clarissa's, by comparison, was a respectable R$8.00. Although there was a real lack of veggie stuff on the menu, so, there you go.
Next stop; Umbrella!
We popped into a shop just over the road and availed ourselves of a very swanky one- black, short (though very large when extended), matt style and button ejected- sweet. I got to wield the potentially harmful implement and was surprisingly successful in managing to avoid eyes.
Further stops included shops. Yep, more shops. I'm not complaining though (for a change). It was cold and neither of us had brought hats or gloves. For my part, I'd not even brought 'em from the UK, believing, as I did, that having been to Brazil once before, in the summer, that Brazil was indeed perpetually warm...I was wrong and am on occasion reminded of this by both weather and girlfriend alike.
So, now gloved in brown, snowflakes and toasty warm on the head with equally brown woollen style, Clarissa and I ventured at a more casual pace- no longer needing the speed to insulate us.
Gramado was wet, sure, but it was a slice of Europe, isolated from the mainland and in fact, separated by quite a few miles (I'm not doing the mathematics on that-you do it). I'm advised that at one point, the region- Serra Gaucha (encompassing Caxias do Sul and Nova Petropolis) thought seriously about adding a dry ski slope. They didn't in the end. What they do have though, is the festival de Gramado, a major film festival in Brazil. Not sure when it's on, but I wanna go!
So. That was Gramado for this trip. We're gonna go back, but I think we'll wait until the rain eases and the sun re-emerges. There are hiking trails to scale and given my recent conversion to exercise, I'm up for it!
On the way back we stopped and bought a kilo of Pinhao, derived from the Brazilian Pine tree or Parana pine. Basically, it's the pine cones that drop, are then boiled in salted water over a few hours and consumed by nibbling the hard ends to push the yellowy insides out. I did the boiling, Clarissa added more salt (I tend to under salt everything) and we feasted...as did Pricilla and Joca, because they kept looking at us with those big pleading eyes.
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