A week in Campo Grande, Brazil

The airport is small, there’s one conveyor belt and the only international flight is the one that goes to Asunción, Paraguay three times a week.

The hostels are mostly in people’s houses and few tourists stay for longer than a night here in Campo Grande.

Where I’m staying now there’s a Swiss guy called David and me. It’s the only foreigner I’ve met when I’ve been here. Last time I was here I bumped into a couple from London at an Arabian restaurant, but that’s pretty much it.

Yesterday the guy at Double Juice asked where I was from and what I was doing here.

At the yoga studio where I’m taking Hatha yoga classes, not a single person speaks English, and in broken Portuguese I try to communicate how much yoga I’ve done before, how many classes I would like to do a week and for how long I’m staying.

It’s my first week in Campo Grande and we are slowly finding our feet.


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