Tuesday At The Beach

Monday night it looked like rain with heavy darks clouds building up across the bay and slowly smothering the blue sky and sunshine above us. Mafra the campground care taker shrugged saying it rains heavily in Joinville, the inland city but barely sprinkles here in São Francisco do Sul (Saint Francis of the South - named of course for the most famous Umbrian to come out of my region in Italy).

We had pasta in a mushroom sauce for dinner Monday, one of Layne’s best and our Argentine neighbors had donated a bottle of red when they left making fun of the name on the bottle, but it tasted good, as did the sunset over the waters of the bay. 

In the event it did not rain and the view across the bay was undimmed by rain. 

Monday morning after the weekend exodus we moved across the campground to get an ocean view and also to move away from the Beverly Hillbillies who moved in next door with squealing kids leading a yappy dog through our campsite. The joy of being a nomad is not only getting out of managing a garden but also escaping irritating neighbors. As Layne put it we moved to a $350 a night view. 

As you can tell Brazilian Rivers are no strangers to giant vehicles in their pursuit of time away from home. 

Our former spot was in front of the lower rock pictured below. The small children from the orange trailer took to climbing in and peering in to observe a napping Layne. It was better we move than she explain to them in no uncertain terms their lack of camping etiquette. 

Swimming has been very pleasant not in the rough waters of the ocean but in our private swimming pool in the harbor just around the corner. Seen here at low tide there’s still plenty of water to swim in out of your depth. 

And the dredge has been pumping sand out of the entrance to clear the channel. 

After a swim and lunch the heat was enough to drive the other members of Team Lost into a torpor but I got my camera out and went for a walk. Mafra the campground manager has directed my attention to a mosaic park down the street  and my curiosity took hold. 

It’s a decorative area next to the clubhouse of the Juventos sport club which has a soccer field here. We’ve watched them kicking a ball around between the goalposts. 

Bearing in mind I’m relying on Google Translate  the sign below says Owl’s Burrow (I’ve seen some owls in this area):

A Space for Art Sport and Leisure. You can donate money to the number below. 

You decide if it’s a worthy cause. It includes a plaque dedicated to Saint Francis of Assisi and Padre Pio two Italian saints whose presence here is as eccentric as anything else I suppose. 

Leisure Sport Culture and Art. 

You get to figure this one out on your own: 

I thought it was a bit of a cheek welcoming German tourists here when the only foreigners in sight were parish speaking Argentines and one RV of misplaced English speakers. 

Anyway enough of that. We had an afternoon swim to accomplish and a dog to feed so I went home and woke up the troops and them.

Rusty gets meat and kibbles but we don’t share those with him so we grilled meat and vegetables for dinner in the style of a South American asado. Only we use a Skotti grill which was introduced to use by some European travelers in Peru and Layne brought it back from the States on her last trip. It’s German made of first class stainless steel and disassembles and folds flat in use. We have adapters to use any kind of gas bottles we come across and it is our staple outdoor cooking tool.

I got an unnecessarily spectacular shot with orange glow as some fat dripped momentarily but it doesn’t normally look like that. I actually enjoy using the Skotti even though I have never been an outdoor grilling type of macho man.

I have for some reason started reading a book about the Battle of the Bulge, a snowy tale of men forced to endure much suffering but at least they knew why they were there and the purpose of the killing. One still feels grateful after all these years that they did that so we may do these decidedly mundane things under the sun. 

Weekday Blues

 

I got a message from my sister whose wedding I went to in Scotland telling me about their honeymoon in Italy, sunny but slightly out of season because she’s smart, and the exchange ended with her having to go to work. I went to have a swim, such is life in retirement.

A few new campers arrived Monday but not enough to replace the exodus that left for work and regular lives back home at the start of the week. We lost our morning shade when our Argentine neighbors departed in their 24 foot Sprinter van heading home to their retirement lives in Cordoba Argentina.

They are seen driving past one of the communal grills, common facilities in campgrounds across southern South America. They gave us a bottle of wine and we promised to stop in and see them when we are in their neck of the woods in Central Argentina. “We have a spot to park your van,” Laura assured us.

You’d better believe we’ll be there. Cordoba is an interesting city by reputation and they are really kind people. However their departure leaves us as the only foreigners in the campground; we are decidedly off the path beaten by overlanders.

So now they are gone I have to put out our shower sheet, the privacy curtain we use between the back doors for public showering, to keep the sun off us in the morning. But aside from our new solar exposure the beaches are much more empty on a weekday  as you might expect. 

I took these pictures walking Rusty around seven in the morning so during the course of the day a few idle souls showed up to enjoy some beach solitude. 

I met a guy taking his morning walk and we fell into a discussion about language as my Portuguese is improving a little. We ended up speaking Italian as his mother like mine was from there. The coincidences that  cross our paths are always surprising. We parted like old friends and this I forgot to take his photograph. 

Sunday night we (I actually) grilled pork chops on our collapsible German Scotti grill so I had that to clean the morning after, then there were the dishes, the floor mats to shake out  and the floor to sweep. 

It’s not all beer and skittles living van life in Brazil. Then we had to swim and have lunch, read a book and take a nap and of course before our next swim, and then walk Rusty past the now nearly empty day use parking lot.

Rinse and repeat for the next few days  while we watch the solar panels charge our batteries by day and listen to our almost silent air conditioning lull us to sleep at night. Tough life indeed, this retirement. 

Beach Life

We have found our groove in São (“San”) Francisco do Sul enjoying proper beach weather and even some decent swimming. 

Lonely dog and a jet skiing life guard. 

Spaces for four cars; and so it is. 

Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. 

 

Sunday was a busy day at the beach, so by the time we strolled to waters edge at 9:30 the day use parking was full…

…and more people were arriving to claim their piece of sand.

The swimming was awful as the water is barely knee deep and the waves pounded the beach from two directions, the larger white caps coming round the point with the smaller ones refracted 90 degrees from across the bay. It was all you could do to stand up and taking your feet off the bottom left you prey to a fierce shore bound current.

We aren’t especially fond of standing in waist deep water waiting to get hit by a wave so we gave up and walked around the parking lot to the fishing harbor and boat ramp where we found clean flat water deep enough we couldn’t touch bottom and swam for an hour to our hearts’ content:

The owner of the campground told us these boats rarely get used and the water here is perfectly clean which is no surprise as the tides flush it. 

So we have found our swimming hole away from the bustle of the beach proper, the weather is hot and sunny, Rusty enjoys snoozing in the grass and taking short walks when he feels like it. 

Our neighbors are friendly as we are objects of curiosity in an all Brazilian RV park so life is good at the beach.

After five years our moonshade awning is still holding up and the sun is hot here so we need it. Our neighbors in a classic VW van have the cutest dog, cute enough Rusty even doesn’t mind her. 

Our solar panels get us fully charged by early afternoon and at night we sleep under our air conditioning which keeps us cool and dry and makes for excellent sleeping conditions. In this weather we are doing fine without plugging in to shore power. The control panel Monday at 1:30pm estimating three hours to full charge at 30 amps per hour charging rate. 

After we rinsed off I got an itch to take my camera for a walk and see what’s what. Layne was washing vegetables and Rusty was snoozing, so off I went by myself. 

The snack place in front of the campground. Not particularly appealing to us but very popular:

The fire station with first aid and lifeguards. Let someone else answer 911 (193); I’m retired. 

I sat here for a bit and watched the waves.