Crossing the line

Sad news at the end of an otherwise lovely, relaxed day.  A dear friend – and I can call him that although we never met – has died in France after unexpected complications during surgery.  People have died in Rio due to the collapse of a recently inaugurated cycle path. Corruption claiming yet more victims? Almost certainly. And now we hear that Prince has died. 
 
It now seems almost wrong to post what I wrote earlier about our day, which started fairly early with a clear run up to the hills (today’s a public holiday, so naturally, being Brazil,most people will take tomorrow off as well). Our route always takes us past this little station, in the middle of nowhere, but only thoughts of Blip finally prompted me to stop.
 
The hot, dry weather continues round here and– we could have another serious drought at this rate,  although other places are under water. Is there no end to these crazy, El Ninho-induced weather patterns? It felt pretty hot when we got to the club and we almost didn’t play, then thought ‘Oh well, maybe just 5 holes’. We made it up the first and down the 5th and hadn’t even finished putting when I told HH I was just too pooped to go on. Must get to the bottom of this tiredness, it’s getting beyond a joke.
 
Anyway, Valerio, who has graduated from being our favourite barman to our favourite caterer, as he’s now the boss, produced scrumptious pork ribs, rice and black beans for lunch. This, together with a few glasses of beer and the company of a Scottish friend, soon had us on top of the world again.
 
Home to Kayla, very vocal about how she’s missed us. I took her out and once again, had to walk much further than intended as she made a beeline for the guest house where someone had given her some steak a while back. At least she (and I ) didn’t interrupt a prayer meeting this time.