Well, this past weekend was another to go down in the annals of history. Or at least the annals of this month. Shon, my coworker, invited Nadia and I to Estância de Baixo again, only this time for a grelha in the desert. Nadia and Shon's girlfriend, Elisabeth, have class at the same time Saturday morning, so we went back with her after she did some grocery shopping. We put together a few coolers of food and drinks and walked about 25 minutes out of town to where the desert begins. The Deserto da Viana is weird: it starts and ends really suddenly, and it's pretty small. One minute, you're walking through fields of brown dirt and lava rocks, and then all of a sudden, there are huge sand dunes that go for a few miles and then end just as suddenly. But when you're actually there in the desert, it might as well be the Sahara if you can't see over the next few dunes.

So we set up camp underneath a big tree that gave us shade from the sun. Someone had set up a grilling pit there, but we had to find it under the sand first and dig it up. We grilled fish and some chicken legs that Beti had marinated in something close to liquid heaven because good god damn they were delicious. We had an awful lot of wine and beer, which we polished off while we ate. After the meal, we struck off into the desert to enjoy it. I don't know what the original goal was, but it turned into a booze-fueled romp in the sand dunes. (pics here. The album is public, no need for an account) In the end, we made it home just after sunset, exhausted and covered in sand. I am still finding small deposits of sand here and there. So we relaxed at Shon's and then headed home, only to find... Yep, water's gone. I did the best I could to wash off the sand with a bottle of water, but I still woke up with a few fistfuls in my bed. No worries though, the water is back as of this morning.

Sunday, I woke up and immediately headed to the bay, obviously. Unfortunately, there was a lot less wind out on the water than there was on, say, my street, so the day wasn't particularly good for speed. Still, I cruised around a bit and even caught a few waves. But like a jackass, I managed to get in front of a big one that carried me halfway across the bay and right into shore, because I never bothered to think about how to get off a wave that big with almost no wind to move myself. I looked about 90% retarded. But right until the end, it was just about the most fun I've had on a board. The wind and swell picks up on Wednesday. I am addicted.

I really do have the best post in the Peace Corps. Not only can I play in the desert and windsurf on the same weekend, but I have free internet to write about it afterwards.