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 l...