Arroz Negro

 

This nasty looking black goo oozing out of my mouth is a Catalonian delicacy called Black Rice (Arroz Negro). Fortunately, I was only informed of how it is made after I had eaten it, as it includes an entire squid, as well as, and you probably guessed right, its ink sac, and thus ink.

Seats from Gaudí

 

Some of the public benches in Barcelona designed by Antoni Gaudí, as well as my little sister.

Clarissa in Barcelona

 

My sister in Plaça Catalunia in Barcelona.

Bouquetto?

 

So I arrived in Barcelona for a second tour, this time not confined to a Hotel room, but actually strolling through the surroundings and visiting places. And well, pardon my French, but this Catalan language has definitely some similarities with Portuguese, especially when it comes to courting women. But Barcelona has a twist, you can buy certain elements of courtship from a vending machine! Of course in Portuguese we talk about boquete, but phonetically it sounds about the same...

An inside view of Notre Dame

 

If I may say so myself, a very nicely taken picture of the interior of the Cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris.

Sex offender

 

What an outrageous show of anti-social behaviour. It is definitely shameful.

Me at the Louvre

 

Caught by surprise by my sister admiring the Louvre.

What a big coffin

 

Following our new Tour de France, we went to the Les Invalides where Napoleon's tomb is located. A proud Italian Napoleone di Buonaparte was a remarkable, if delusional, leader. What strikes me the most is this awfully large coffin for a midget.

Musée d'Orsay

 

Now, for something completely different, we went to Musée d'Orsay, which has a remarkable collection of sculptures and paintings, as well as a nice collection of furniture from the monarchic age in France.

Île de la Cité

 

Now for a closer look to my sister in the Île de la Cité in Paris.

Back to France, with a twist

 

The hiatus in my postings has a reason, an 18-year old reason to be more precise. For the last two weeks I had my sister around visiting me as part of her summer vacation (bear in mind it's summer in Brazil in February). So we went for a brief tour of European countries, and I find myself back in France, which is a country that I'm really fond of, despite the fame for rudeness Parisians have. The trick is to know some French, barely enough to order food is as good as you need to get them to like you. Remember, broken French is better than awesome English.

Cargo cult lives on in South Pacific

I have been keeping this post on the queue for some time now, and I finally got some of my inspiration back. But meta-level digressions aside, I got this pearl of a news piece about how Cargo Cults still exist in some parts of the pacific. Cargo Cults are so-called religious movements that arose in some islands in the Pacific in which the participants try to obtain cargo (appropriately) by emulating the rituals of westerners who at some point stayed in these islands. These people seem to not understand or ignore the fact that goods are manufactured and that cargo arrives at places for consumption as a man-made process, rather than by divine intervention, which is one of the foundations of these cults. They prefer to believe that some set of Gods create goods and deliver them to the faithful. Quite a wacky belief.

You got to love the BBC

In a pleasant Monday surprise, the BBC has reported on some kind of practical joke in Wiltshire where someone has tied underwear to road signs. The police is completely clueless as to what the perpetrator intended to accomplish with the feat, but they will get to the bottom of this!