We were exceptionally lazy that morning, because that long trip to Natal? That was exhausting. So we were content to be extra lazy, catching up on the world via our iPads and reading our depressing young adult literature. (Both Lauren and Katie read The Fault in Our Stars while in Brazil.)
The calendar was catching up to Alyson, who was flying home earlier than Lauren and Katie. As a result, there was a mission-based hike up the hill and into Olinda. Mission: shopping. Lauren came along for reinforcement. (Katie did something practical like shower.) After obtaining the requisite souvenirs (Brazilian flip flops, a painting, jewelry, magnets, trinkets, tsotchkes, etc.) and running into our Irish-Australian bus companions from the previous day (who were obviously taking our suggestion to visit Olinda because we’re awesome saleswomen), we stopped so that Lauren could bond with another fruit ninja.
Upon arriving back to the hotel, we wrangled up one Miss Katie and our fellow Midwesterners and headed over to our favorite bar on the corner. It was absolutely packed with World Cup tourists but we managed to grab a table. We watched the Argentina-Nigeria match and drank caipirinhas and felt happy.
Then we turned around and found two more of our Natal bus companions, who were also in Olinda at our suggestion. Seriously. Olinda Tourism Bureau: we would like our cut.
Following the match, Lauren, Katie and I ditched the dudes to get lunch at the creperie. Then, halfway through our meal, they showed up. Apparently the corner bar was closing. Which: absurd. The place was packed. Turning away customers! Crazy.
So, instead of heading back to the corner bar to continue our soccer-watching marathon, we wrapped up our lunch of crepes, and followed the guys up one of Olinda’s infamous hills to a Spanish restaurant. We ate paella. We watched Ecuador/France. We did a healthy number of tequila shots. We formulated a plan to go to the mall, in a state that can be best described as mildly drunk, to pick up a pair of R16 tickets. We drank some more.
Red, white and blue face paint. Obviously.
We got the tickets. We got some paint that may or may not have been safe for faces but was definitely red, white and blue. We got gelato. We mostly sobered up. We got into this big ordeal attempting to get a cab back to Olinda because, well, the squeezing five passengers into a cab was a little less potentially illegal than it was outright illegal.
(Details one cab driver was willing to overlook, as it was.)
We got back to our hotel. We parted ways with our fellow Midwesterners after making face painting, hair styling, gaudy Americana plans for early the next morning.
The morning of USA/Germany.
The wait was nearly over.