That’s Retiro, a barrio in Volta Redonda. It’s where I go to get things done and buy supplies. It’s an easy walk down the hill to Avenida Savio Gama (pictured). Through some strange quirk of the universe, you don’t see any traffic in the picture. However, it’s always busy. I waited until there weren’t any folks on the sidewalk before I took the picture.
In order to deal with my shaggy appearance, I decided to walk into town to get a haircut. Monica gave me the name and location of where her boys get the job done. It was a bit of a walk, but I got a nice haircut from a young man where Monica said I would find him (no wait!) and returned home the long way, deciding that the exercise of walking up our hill would likely be a good thing, as my treadmill is 5000 miles away.
Vagabond Dog followed us in the morning, but he disappeared after that. After lunch, we decide to go back into town to do some banking and pick up some movies that we might watch while on vacation at Ilha Grande (we’re leaving tomorrow morning). Vagabond Dog is at his post outside our door and follows us down the hill into town. The dog is a little scary-looking, so we hear a few surprised gasps from other people on the sidewalk who are surprised by the big, goofy dog. He follows us all of the way through town, negotiating street crossings better than we do and waits for us when we go into stores.
Billy and VDog from our morning walk. Like many dog owners, I begin and end every day walking a dog, waiting for it to poop. The only thing that’s different is the color of the dog. When I’m on the other continent, it’s a white one.
When we return from our Retiro trip, Monica gets some of Billy’s food and puts it outside in a dish that someone else has across the street has put out for Vagabond dog. The dog is so happy.
Later, he follows us out to a nearby corner bar/restaurant where we had a few cervejas and some really good soup. Monica grabbed a broom and chased him out of the restaurant at one point, but besides that, he behaved himself, waiting outside until he could accompany us on our short walk home. The bar, Point de Limon, disappointed Monica a bit – she has high standards when it comes to bars. I suspect that we won’t be back there for a while.
A bolo (cake) that is called “fluffy towel” because the coconut on the top gives it the appearance of one. Mmmmmmm. It’s really moist. Of course, it’s half gone at this point, and I don’t expect it to last too much longer. I had a piece with breakfast this morning.
Tomorrow, it’s off to Ilha Grande for a week.