Faux Pas

Fashion. Travel. Food. Bridget. Gin.

Ilha Grande

By Wednesday, August 05, 2015

After another sleep disturbed by 3 crazy Spanish bitches having a mothers meeting at 3am in a dark hostel room, we made as much noise as possible at 8am as we started our journey to an island paradise called Ilha Grande. We said goodbye to Lemon Spirit and their resident hottie, Thiago, for a couple of days but we would return. With a vengeance. 

Our drive out of Rio was awesome as we whizzed past Ipanema Beach, Copacabana, Sugar Loaf Mountain and even got epic views of Christ the Redeemer. Sexy bastard. 

It took about 5 hours to get to Ilha Grande including a bus and a boat and then a trek half way up a bloody mountain to find our hostel. The weather wasn't what I wanted but then again, it was the evening. The island looked like Jurassic World and I was sure we'd be eaten before nightfall.

Because it was shit weather we decided to eat something on the beach, book a beach tour for the next day and have a super early night to recuperate. We found a nice looking place on the beach and both decided to go for the falafel salad which sounded divine. What wasn't so divine is waking up at 11pm to sounds of chundering and regret as the falafel was making a reappearance from Sarah's body. She was struck down horrifically with food poisoning and I was just waiting by the minute to be sick on myself as I too had eaten the salad. 

Luckily, somehow I had managed to avoid it and wasn't ill. Must have a stomach of steel. I got serious food poisioning a couple of years ago from Chicken Cottage in Streatham Hill when me and my then boyfriend decided we needed some cheap, undercooked chicken after a night on the booze. That took relationship bonding to a new level. So luckily my body didn't flinch at a bit of dodgy water on a salad leaf. 

My poor little pea was an empty shell of herself (literally) and having never been poisoned by food before, it hit her hard. She had stopped being sick in the early hours and decided she was still ok to chase the sun around the most beautiful beaches the island had to offer. 

We had a convoy of about 3 or 4 speedboats and whizzed around at super speed. I felt like I was either in James Bond or close to death at any second. Sarah was concentrating on not chundering everywhere which was not easy I tell you now. At one point the driver (who I'm not entirely sure was actually looking where he was going half the time) smashed into a wave, took off and all of our arses left the seats as the boat and us were mid air. I grabbed Sarah's leg and everyone looked at each other in what felt like super slow motion, all with fear plastered on our mugs. Thankfully we forcefully smashed down to the seats with only a fractured coccyx to moan about. No biggie. It's not actually fractured but I think my back is definitely a few inches shorter. The drive had a smile on his face but it was obviously hiding his relief that he hadn't just killed 12 tourists and would subsequently be on the Daily Mail the next morning. Health and safety isn't a thing in Brazil. 

After that debarkal, he made up for it by plonking us on 5 or 6 stunning beaches where I was completely in my happy place and lapped up the sun whilst grinning like a Cheshire cat for the whole day. Sarah felt exactly the same.

You pull off food poisoning so well darling. Food poisioning is the new black. You saw it here first.

I continued to bronze away whilst checking my poor little sick pea was still alive on a regular basis. She survived and pulled through with style.

We finished off on a tiny little beach where everyone ate whilst we stole the last of the suns rays, and sped back to our base camp beach feeling sun kissed, salty, bruised and content. Sarah was feeling a little bit more fresh albeit exhausted so I tucked her up in bed to charge her batteries whilst I devoured Brazils supply of crisps.

On Thursday, Sarah woke up feeling like a new woman so we had cake for breakfast to celebrate. Any excuse. We then decided to soak up some more sun which resulted in me looking like an actual tomato, before catching our boat back to Rio. I was super excited to get back to Lemon Spirit and catch up with all our new found chums/chumettes who were hanging around Rio for a few days with us. 

We got back Leblon and went to nosh off a classic Brazilian dish which includes all the carbs you can imagine. Literally my heaven. Chicken, chips, rice and refried beans. Dribbling now. Gimme. We went to bed feeling full, bronzed (really fucking burnt actually) and excited to go be tourists in Rio and drink all of the Caiprihanas the following day. I'm too in love with life when travelling.