After an evening of beers and too liberal a bar tender's hand in pouring cachaca into a coconut I'm was drinking from: Jen and I sat at a beach bar in Ipanema and this poor homeless bloke wheels up (literally). He had basically no lower body and was pushing himself around on a skateboard with his one working hand. He was mad or drunk and was saying something to the bar man who ignored him and continued playing cards. Her then rolled himself over to us and started...

So thought this would just be a travel day but it worked out alright. Didn't leave Cartagena til 4:30 pm so got some shopping done and a tour of this awesome church / museum thing of San Pedro Claver who was a monk here in the 1600s who helped the slaves heaps. His skelly is even right there on display at the alter in a glass coffin. But then the hellish bit - six hour overnight flight to Rio. Got on plane and woman was siting in my seat and tried to get me to ...

Travel day basically - hotel f***ed us on the options so spent a lot of the day in a taxi then bus. Another fun night watching gay porn and small dogs in plaza Trinidad tonite though

Last day in paradise. When I woke up this morning Jen told me she had shat the bed quite unexpectedly during the night. Well, there was no contamination of the sheets but she had diarrhoeaed all in her pants. Also, she thinks her jellyfish bites are going to leave permanent pocks all over her thighs.

Jen's persisting with the topless sunbathing, and it's progressed to topless swimming. Every time I go swimming the dumpy waves fill my crack with heaps of sand, which I have to then empty from my speedos when I get back on shore so I don't look like I'm carrying around a poo and also because it hurts to sit down abruptly on a crackfull of Colombian sand. None of that is a drug euphemism.