Worse ways to spend a Sunday...

The day started off with me feeling very sorry for myself. Long haul flights are OK, you can stroll around, hang out in the galley or choose your film. Well you can if it's in one of the big planes. Last night, was 7,5 hours in a 737, with a back bulkhead seat that didn't recline, spaced for the legs of a little Panama girl. So, I had some guys head up my nose (consolation was my knees were in his kidneys), no individual screen and stuck next to the can. Although, being next to the toilet does allow you to fart with impunity.

Needless to say at 6am when our plane touched down I wasn't the happiest camper.

But then there was a nice shower, a fresh pineapple and coconut juice squeezed before my eyes and this stroll on Copacabana:

A midday nap, followed by a Skol and Chicken fillet lunch (in amongst the locals who were making a noise - they were even talking to each other at neighbouring tables - it felt so un-paris), then a fresh coconut juice alongside beach. An evening run on the beach to Ipanema to finish off.

What was that story about the flight again? There are worse ways to spend a Sunday. It just became great.