Anniversary without funny Brazilian problems

We started with a picnic basket on the Brazilian beach – breakfast under the palm trees, hardly more kitschy. Then into the swimwear and off to the tiny fishing boat that looked like it hadn't sent its last signal since 1987. Destination: natural pools. And yes, damn it, they were beautiful. Fish, corals, everything alive, everything Instagrammable. The coral reefs off Maragogi are considered by locals to be the second largest in the world – right after Australia, the eternal runner-up in the tropical beauty contest, which never quite matches the winner but still looks impressive.

Three hours of sunshine, 33 degrees, slight brain melt – a dream.
Communication? As always: a disaster. Our Portuguese remains at the level of a confused elementary school student with a concussion. Back on the beach: loungers, palm trees, soccer, paddle tennis. The full program of decadent vacation madness.
6 PM: Massage. On the beach. Under the palm trees. Even the annoying child has wandered off – probably scared of real relaxation. An hour of sea sounds, palm breeze, and whale songs. Totally absurd, completely wonderful.
Brazil has actually made it. Just barely.