paraty Tupi river of fish. Population - 35,730.
Apr 2016+
Here is nearly 200 miles south-west of Rio, Brazil's Costa Verde being a popular destination for holidaying cariocas. It's pronounced 'pah-rit-chee', not as in 'Ooh, look at that bird, it's a bit parrot-y!' although if you have got your binocs, there's a very good chance that you will be saying that.
The name's from the indigenous Tupi language and means river of fish and there's a river here all right.
It's not quite the Amazon but it does flow here from a forest of trees and into the sea of water near a beach of sand.
Not quite knowing what to expect, the hotel was found to be a little disappointing.
That's a joke, of course, the reason for being here was for a wedding but more on that in a minute. The bride's local knowledge meant that a very accommodating pousada had been laid on, thanks very much.
That building is just behind one of the main streets and it was here that it was realised just how big Subway™ is in South America.
It's not meant that kind of big, they're still about a foot long, but big in the global sense since they've also bagged the franchise for snacks at Iguazú Falls.
If only it were so easy to find a cashpoint that worked.
Pousadas aren't considered to be hotels in Brazil because they're independently run and tend to be smaller. Think B&B or a guest house except this one's not and with separate blocks for the beds and an accommodating pool, it's more like a mini Butlins.
Cobbles abound in the historic old town where cars and vans are banned but the odd pony and trap will still have you watching your Green Cross Codes.
This area is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and, as should be known by now, they don't hand them awards out willy-nilly.
During unusually high tides, these streets are prone to flooding and the salty surge can leave six inches of seawater along here.
Reading up beforehand, it was suggested there's an old, ingenious system of under-street channels to alleviate this. That's a load of cobblers, everybody just waits for the tide to go back out.
South American fayre in this busy restaurant with live music provided by two guys playing bossa nova from up a height.
The source of the floodwater is, of course, the sea and just north of the river mouth, there's a small beach on a bay.
The temperature of the water is, well, cooler washing machine cycles have been run. All they need in town is some Daz™ on the cobbles and they've a ready-made, outdoor launderette.
There's a fish sculpture just behind and they're presumed to be from the river.
To represent those from the sea, he'd have to have done a big, clay bowl of moqueca.
Bar on the beach where you can, well, chill unless you go in the water that is. Slurp on a Brahma™ while a guy plays more bossa nova on a guitar... beach bars don't get any more Brazilian than this!
Down near the marina here, there's a popular market on Sundays or what just might pass as a 'car boot' back home.
They still do some fishing here although the temperature of that sea means they're coming out half poached, probably. Most of the moorings are now reserved for pleasure seekers and trip operators with the volcanic islands in the bay making for a great day's sailing, they say.
Architecturally, the centre is best described as colonial. The Portuguese established the European influence in the 1660s and the Igreja de Nossa Senhora das Dores wouldn't look out of place on the Algarve, say.
It wasn't really until the 1970s that tourists arrived here in their numbers via the newly constructed highway between Rio and Santos. They used to trade gold here but now it's more of a property gold mine.
Something similar to this will set you back... £11,000,000, so say Sotheby's, and that's without a sea view.
There's a fair bit else going on wildlife-wise that is. Those hummingbirds were just a bit too haphazard for this pair of amateurs so, perched on a church, Brazil's national bird. It looks like a young 'un and the posture makes for a puzzler but a rufous-bellied thrush? Possibly.
Wading in the water a, likely, snowy egret but then, the unmistakable little blue heron.
The name of the last one's the most difficult... there's no Portuguese translation for 'Fido'.
You might not want to get too comfortable there fella, that tide's due in any time now.
So, the wedding ceremony's done and this is now what might be called the 'night-time do'...
You're in the pool with a bevvy of bikini-clad beauties, the beats are booming, the caipirinhas are flowing, your youngest nephew is being hit on by the gayest guy in Brazil, the best man of sorts is trying his best to honour that tradition with one of the bridesmaids and sat at a table, Sly is smoking a Cuban cigar.
Get this, It's not even 8 PM!... Weddings don't get any more Brazilian than this!