A bit of a delayed blog entry but to be honest the remaining days spent in La Polomo contained nothing more than days at the beach, a know it all American who owned the hostel, a complete stoner in denial who didn't know his arse from his elbow and despite being safe, had the productivity of a sloth with M.E, and onzo, the guard dog the size of a horse. We booked up our bus to the next destination, Florianopolis, a small island in south Brazil that we'd heard a lot about. Being an 18 hour journey we booked it over night on Friday the 13th. Probably not the best date for a bus journey but the boredom of La Polomo was worth the risk. The coach pick up was arranged from a small petrol station just outside the town next to us which we had no idea how to get there apart from we needed to get a local bus to get their. Luckily two English, Spanish speaking girls where buying their ticket before us so we got to the bus station early knowing the girls would have to turn up there to reach the next town. Sure enough they did. Like the true travellers me and dice are we stalked them all the way to the petrol station letting them do all the hard work while we joked about being secret agents. With the stalking skills of an elephant in tap shoes, our cover was soon blown and we came clean. They were alright with it and we continued on together and soon enough found the petrol station. The bus turned up on time and was fairly easy to sort out. The driver had our passports and we crossed into the Brazilian border without even knowing. I dozed in and out till I was eventually awoken in floripa greeted with tropical views and the rain to go with it. Despite the rain it seemed nice and the fact we were now in Brazil clearly had a positive impact. A couple bus rides later and we arrive in Barra Lagoa and instantly spot the Hilltop Hostel. Cam from BsAs spotted us, came to meet us with a warm welcome and a cold beer. By this time it was about 10am on the Saturday. We walk into the hostel and there is no reception. We later find out that Zohan (the crazy 10 years in the military israely) doesn't believe in receptions. This leaves the hostel having absolutely no organisation. Apparently the day before alcoholics were actually leaving the brewery sober from the piss up they'd organised! Anyways, this didn't concern us and the excitement of Brazil led me to continue drinking and playing pool with cam and dice. Eventually christi joined us and we met up with junior and ang. As the beer took over the refreshingness of the river was just too tempting and we went for a swim. The beer in the afternoon turned into rum in the evening which turned in disaster in the night. I vaguely remember the beach party which is about it. Determined to power through I stumbled my way to the early hours and retired around 6 on sunday.