Bridget Jones in Ilha Grande. Part 2.

Ilha Grande - Part 2


(Be sure to read Part 1 first!)

Friday 19th May


Hurrah the storm has stopped!

Woke up to dry weather and weak sunshine. Adam and Eve were still sleeping naked together, so I got up and showered as quietly as I could.

Went to put on clean clothes only to find entire contents of 15kg bag smelt of shit. Apparently this one available corner of mine is the place from which the room’s strange smell has been coming from. Even my sandals and toiletries smell like a vile combination of excrement, damp, and seaweed.

“Morning,” Eve said pleasantly. I looked up from my shit-smelling bag to see her lithe naked form standing before me delicately covered in a bedsheet. Her long brown hair was sexily tousled and her skin perfectly clear. I just sat there crouched on the floor, stupidly, in my baggy brown shorts, absentmindedly touching the growing spot on my forehead. “Did you sleep well?” Eve asked.

‘Thanks to the ear plugs and the voice of Rob Patterson, yes,’ I thought to myself.

“Er, yes thanks,” I said politely. “Yourself?”

“Yes, really well thank you,” she said, smiling in the morning light. Her English-accented voice sounded like she spent the day thinking of fairies and rainbows; all breath, and sunshine, and light.

Her boyfriend sat up in bed, sleep still i crusted into the corners of his handsome eyes. “Good morning,” he mumbled drowsily.

Eve let out a quiet noise of adoration and made to kiss his perfectly tanned forehead.

I zipped up my bag and patted my day pack awkwardly. “Well, I’m going down to breakfast.” I casually made my way to the door. “I’ll see you later,” I said uncomfortably and made a dash for it.

Clearly, if I am ever going to find myself a man I will need to leave this island and go instead to inhabit the Ugly Island for ugly people.


Ate 4 pieces of cake, a bowl of cereal, 2 bread rolls with butter, 2 cups of coffee and 3 pieces of fruit for breakfast.

Also pocketed a couple of bread rolls, a piece of cake, and a banana for lunch.

Must get money’s worth and all that. Plus, am on holiday – additional calories will be magically lost.


Jasmine met us at our hostel so we could begin our walk to Lopez Mendez beach.

Is supposed to be beautiful beach 3 hours walk away, which is why I can eat 5 slices of cake a day and still maintain a figure…is my theory anyway.

Ilha Grande - Rain Forest


Fuck; bollocks; shit. Am sweating profusely.

Why are there hills in this rainforest? Thought it would be a nice stroll through the jungle, watching monkeys and listening to exotic bird song. I had an image of us simply wondering through the tropical greenery observing wildlife with David Attenborough’s voice narrating gently in the background. However, it is actually bloody humid and hilly, and I have so far seen no animals – let alone adorable monkeys – only mosquitoes.

Will focus on the now ultimate goal: burning off my breakfast cake(s) before I reach the beach and have to undress in public.

Ilha Grande - Beach 1


Have now nearly fallen over at least three times despite wearing new trekking shoes bought from some special outdoors shop back in England. I was assured by the man in the shop that the soles were sturdy and had enough grip to prevent even the clumsiest of fools from slipping. Jasmine now refuses to walk in front of me in case I trip over and fall onto her.

It is beautiful here though – all blue seas, white sand and green jungle. Feel like Lara Croft or something…only without the DD cup size and handguns.


There now seems to be a homeless dog stalking us. He has a large patch of exposed, septic skin on his left shoulder that he keeps rubbing attractively against my leg. These are the kinds of men I attract.

Tried to stretch my memory back to the days of Pet Rescue and Animal Hospital to think of ways I could help the poor animal, but don’t remember any episodes giving advice on how to fashion a doggie bandage out of jungle leaves. In any case, knowing my luck the dog would bite me and give me rabies if I tried to touch it.

Ilha Grande - Lopes Mendez Beach



Finally arrived at Lopes Mendez beach, manky dog still in tow. The sun is glorious, I’m wearing my new white bikini, and the sea is blue. And, hurrah, there are half-naked men swimming.

Have slathered myself in factor 30 and am enjoying the sun on my face whilst listening to soothing holiday music.

Manky is showing off his balls and rubbing his wound in the sand.


The sea is warm! I approached it cautiously, as anyone who has holidayed in Devon and it’s ice cold sea would. But when I let the waves cover my feet, I found them to be the perfect temperature.

Was frollocking about trying to look remotely elegant in new white bikini, when I found myself floored by a big wave. Also tripped continuously when getting out of the sea. Definitely did not look like Halle Berry in that Bond film. And not just because I have the wrong skin colour and am at least 8lbs heavier.


After making three hour journey back to the main centre of the island, we bought some food, and cooked pasta with homemade pumpkin sauce at Jasmine’s hostel.

I use the term “we” very loosely, obviously.


Have asked to move into Becky’s room as there is a spare bed available.

Eve (real name unknown) asked me why I was moving. I told her it was simply because I wanted to be in the same room as my friend. Didn’t mention that it was because I feared it was only matter of time before I accidentally and unwillingly came to face with either her or her boyfriend’s genitalia.

Eve asked me to come downstairs later for drinks with them.

Politely said “maybe” and backed out of the room.


Just finished moving all of my things to Becky’s room down the corridor.

Hurrah! No more naked couple.


Returned to old room to double check I hadn’t left anything, only to find Eve in the process of draping her perfect bare body over Adam’s naked form. Whilst it wasn’t her vagina, I did get a firsthand look at her exposed boobs.

Ugh, my eyes feel violated.


As I was starting to get cabin fever in our little dorm room, I put on some makeup, went downstairs, found myself an empty table, and sat there with my Nexus tablet in one hand and a caipirinha cocktail in the other. (I take my experimentation with local alcohol very seriously being the cultured and refined traveller that I am.)

Sat there pretending to read the BBC news on my tablet (one must keep up to date with current affairs so as to be able to have intelligent conversation with strangers.)

Mobile electronic devices were so clearly designed for singletons; they are our armour for all social situations (e.g. being stood up; cafés and restaurants; family dinners when the conversation turns to the inevitable question about one’s relationship status.)

Was eventually joined at my table for two by a Chilean male doctor sporting intellectual glasses. He asked me what I was looking at on my tablet.

“Oh, just catching up on some news,” I replied intelligently.

He nodded. “So what do you think of the politics in South America? Obviously, you know about the Argentinian government?”

I looked down at my tablet for inspiration but only a picture of Ryan Gosling stared blankly up at me.

“It’s very…interesting….the state of democracy in these places,” I guessed wildly. Suddenly cursed switching over news channel to watch Keeping Up With The Kardashians.

“Yeah, I mean is it democracy though?” the man pondered aloud in his excellent English.

“Nnnn,” I sounded without commitment, loudly sucking my drink through a straw.


Spent an hour discussing the ways in which Chilean doctor could propose to his long term fellow-doctor girlfriend (turning round these awkward mistaken-relationship-status moments is a gift all singletons learn to cultivate.) I suggested the place where they met – he said the cancer ward of a hospital might not be quite the right place.

Drank more caipirinhas. They really are lethal, but so tasty and easy to drink.


Eventually stumbled my way to bed, reading the annoyingly positive messages painted onto the corridor walls.

What the fuck is the point in thinking “positive vibes” when you’re single, drunk, and have no prospects besides marrying one’s cat?


Where isshh my looovely bloody Chilean doctor-person? Can’t belieeeve am allone on trropical island.



  1. says

    You are hilarious! Loved this post. I hope to visit Ilha Grande in a few months, and this was very informative (go for the caipirinhas, avoid bunking with overly amorous couples!).

  2. says

    hahaha your language is refreshing! I spent a week on Ilha Grande and the rain only stopped at night. I lost my tan that week! I think dorm bonking is all you can do on Ilha Grande when its raining, bad still met great people.

    Thanks for the laughs!


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