6/09/2011……Starting to get really edgy about getting back now, the Tam/Sav deficiency is starting to kick hard now. Today is a vague day. My vague task is to see a new possible supplier, once again getting picked up by a Portuguese only driver doesn’t help my vague historic knowledge of this city or country, but it does highlight the fact that Brazil is big enough for the majority of the population not to learn a second language.
Being vaguely received at the office, the main sales lady is unavailable to see me, some vague reason about having a baby or something, so I’m left chatting about all matters vague to the logistics lady, who’s soon to take over the sales role….(Should I be vaguely concerned?) A conversation ensues where great phrases such as reliability, supplier/importer relationships, continuity of supply, commitment etc seem to be vaguely unfamiliar to them and one’s left feeling like you’re likely to better off dealing with a commodity trader. They’re keen to show me the farm so we plan a meeting for the next morning.
Back at the hotel, I’m distinctly aware that if one has to suffer another hotel meal, I may just lose my sense of humour so after a few inquiries at reception a taxi arrives to take me out to a restaurant called the Armazem Cafe.
This is a very attractively large restaurant that can probably seat about 200 people. The overall decor makes it look rustic without feeling grubby or dirty. A massive sail stretches across the outside seating area and a variety of galvanised masts stretch out holding the canopy taunt. 20h00 and there are very few people around. The beer is proudly cold and goes down well after such a vague day. A couple of musicians are setting up their instruments, doesn’t seem like they’re going to have much of an audience tonight.
In complete redemption of all other Brazilian restaurant food, this place cooks the best “mal pasada” steak imaginable. By 22h00 the restaurant is packed and the musician are giving it guns. It is hard to beat good talented Brazilian live music, and this is only “little old Juazeira” somewhere on the banks of Rio Sao Francisco. Salute! The next day is Independence day, thus explaining why everyone is out in full force this evening. I am randomly “assaulted” by a group of 17 year olds who are keen to practice their English and sit around the table enjoying the music. Three of them are from Petrolina and the other three are from Juazeira… and so the arguement continues as to which city is the best. By mid-night, the week is catching up and I head for bed. Thank you Juazeira for this noisy display of local culture.