...Nottingham, ah, or arggh, bit of both really, terrible architecture, fantastic people, if you could take one and not the other, it would be how it is.
No theatre to speak of in this chapter of Nottingham, but a lot of fun was had, lots.
And after 7 months of it, off I went, to Brazil, in time for carnival. Landing in Rio, did not expect a heavily bearded uniformed Scot to be telling me where to catch the bus, shows what I know. And 2 months later I had danced, hand-standed (hand-stood?), taught English, surfed, got lost in favelas, read poetry at clandestine poesie-sarau, rode the flying buses with a street art posse and met some lovely, lovely people. I still to this day owe a translation of a play to the Vidigal drama school from where the cast of City of God were drawn, it was no smooth ride, but mark my words, Oque Saudade...
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