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How to Avoid Getting Mugged in Rio de Janeiro by Singing Songs by The Police and Other Lesser Known Travel Tips
Australian author Simon Yeats, who from an early age learned that the best way to approach the misfortunes of this world is to laugh about it.
Simon shares his comedic insights into the unusual and uproarious elements of living life as an Aussie ex-pat and having a sense of Wanderlust as pervasive as the Bubonic Plague in the 1300s.
From what to do when several people converge to rob you after midnight on a deserted Copacabana Beach, to how to save the Sierra Mountain Range from a wildfire outbreak due to a lack of quality toilet paper, to where not to go in Tijuana when trying to locate the origins to stories of the city’s mythical adult entertainment, to how to save yourself from drowning when caught in a storm while sailing off the California coast.
Simon Yeats has gone into the world and experienced all the out of the ordinary moments for you to sit back and enjoy the experience without the need to lose an eye or damage your liver.
The first time a person is fully responsible for everything that goes wrong on a trip is a daunting moment.
Somewhere between thinking, I have not seen a house in a while, and what sort of person would live in a house out here? The Kammback's engine starts to give off smoke. Foolishly thinking that if my car engine is on fire, the faster I drive the quicker the wind through the motor will put out the blaze, I speed up. The smoke gets worse, not better.
Shit, this is not good. I am in the middle of nowhere. No cars. No houses. Not even the sound of banjos.
I am caught between a rock and a hard place. The travelers lament. If I drive faster, there is more smoke. But I will get somewhere faster before my engine explodes. If I drive slower, there is less smoke. But it will take me longer to get somewhere and hopefully get this problem fixed.
My mind is a fretful game of Pong.
Go faster.
No, go slower.
No, go faster.
Slower is better.
The engine situation remains dire as the car speeds, then limps its way into the town of Waldo, Florida.
It is fortuitous that I choose to enter town by inching along the road. The formerly unknown settlement of Waldo was recently ranked #3 for ‘Worst Speed Trap Cities’ in North America. I have no idea whether it was nationally rated on the day in 1992 when I drove into town. It might have been in the embryonic stages of developing its traffic citation money spinner.
The Florida Department of Law Enforcement opened an investigation which resulted in the entire Waldo Police force being disbanded. This led to Waldo zooming up the rankings of small towns in the USA plagued by illegal gambling, crystal-meth manufacturing, and prostitution. But in 1992, I believe there is nowhere on earth I will find more honest help than in a small American town.
Along with aggressive law enforcement, Waldo thankfully has a mechanic. The mechanic did not have a shop, per se. He conducted business out of the shed beside his house. That is okay, I thought. Apple started off in a garage in Palo Alto. Waldo’s car repair specialist pops the bonnet of the car and looks inside. Americans say, ‘hood,’ instead of, ‘bonnet.’ They also say, ‘trunk,’ instead of, ‘boot.’ This creates some confusion between me and the mechanic.
Our respective accents do not help matters. His southern drawl is as heavy set as a Sumo wrestler at a Las Vegas buffet, my Aussie brogue as lavishly thick as Tom Selleck's chest hair.
I finally manage to explain the situation with the smoke.
The mechanic takes all of three minutes to find the problem. There is an oil leak from a ruptured gasket dripping onto the hot engine, causing smoke. It is lucky I did not continue driving, and fell in love with the homespun authenticity of the town of Waldo. The engine would have drained of oil and seized. This is the good news. The bad news is, where am I going to find another gasket for a 1986 AMC Eagle Kammback in Waldo, Florida?
If the travel gods of Mt. Olympus ever wanted to show love to one of their followers, they choose this day to do it. After only one phone call, the mechanic locates another local who has a junked AMC Eagle in his possession, and he has a replacement seal for me. The miracle of Waldo! And if the travel gods have a sense of humor, they also choose this day to show it. The guy cannot bring the seal to the mechanic for a few hours. He has banjo practice. Followed by a long overdue moonshine still cleaning. Then more banjo practice.
When the part finally arrives, tucked into the owner’s overall pocket, it takes all of 60 seconds to install. Relief washes over me like a soapy loofah in a Turkish bathhouse. Now it brings us to the matter of the bill. I am not expecting an itemized bill, and I am prepared to pay a reasonable amount to cover the cost of a phone call, a rubber seal, three quarts of oil, and four total minutes of the mechanic’s valuable time.
“How much will that be?” I ask.
“How much ya got?”
“How much time do I have?” I query back, uncertain of his meaning. “Not much, unfortunately. I really need to get to Jacksonville, and your mate’s second banjo practice went on longer than I expected.”
“Not how much time ya got, twinkle toes,” he winks as he speaks.
“I don’t understand then. How much what?”
“How much money ya got in your wallet?” He persists.
Purchase Links
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/how-to-avoid-getting-mugged-in-rio-de-janeiro-by-singing-songs-by-the-police-and-other-lesser-known-travel-tips-yeats/1144543933?ean=9798223326014
Author Bio –
Simon Yeats has lived nine lives, and by all estimations, is fast running out of the number he has left. His life of globetrotting the globe was not the one he expected to lead. He grew up a quiet, shy boy teased by other kids on the playgrounds for his red hair. But he developed a keen wit and sense of humor to always see the funnier side of life.
With an overwhelming love of travel, a propensity to find trouble where there was none, and being a passionate advocate of mental health, Simon’s stories will leave a reader either rolling on the floor in tears of laughter, or breathing deeply that the adventures he has led were survived.
No author has laughed longer or cried with less restraint at the travails of life.
Social Media Links –
TIK TOK -
INSTAGRAM -
(note: Helen has not yet read the book herself)
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Website: https://helenhollick.net/
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Helen