It would turn out to be a trip full of naïve mistakes, but disaster almost struck before we had even reached Manchester Airport. Everything seemed to be going to plan after we had set off from Wigan at around three o’clock in the morning. However, the motorway exit that we required was closed due to maintenance work being carried out during the early hours of the morning.

“OK, that’s not a big problem. We will have to carry on until the next junction and find our way from there,” I reasoned.

Unfortunately, the next exit was also closed.

“We will continue to the next junction and let our Sat-Nav lead us to the airport. Thank goodness for technology!” I stated, as I attempted to calm down an increasingly worried Carol.

Just as we left the motorway, our Sat-Nav packed in. It was going to be difficult to comfort Carol if I revealed how anxious I really was. I think that I managed to perform a decent impression of a swan that was fooling those around him that he was calm and not furiously flapping his legs beneath the surface. Deep down, I had almost conceded the fact that we were going to miss our flight; therefore, our dream holiday in Rio de Janeiro would not come to fruition.

After driving around aimlessly for ten minutes, we somehow found a route to the airport that was open. We had never been so relieved to be standing in a ridiculously long queue waiting to board an aircraft.

We will remember 2020 as the year in which we all had to practice social distancing, but our trip to Brazil four years earlier involved making sure that we did not stray within two metres of any mosquitoes. After all, it was the Zika virus that was featuring in the news every day leading up to our trip. The virus is spread by mosquitoes rather than humans, which meant that we were constantly on the lookout for anything buzzing around us. We practically bathed ourselves in DEET prior to leaving our hotel each day.

The little blood-suckers were clearly on my mind after waking up on our first morning in Rio de Janeiro. Carol immediately let out a shrieking sound after looking out of the window of our hotel room. My heart sank, as I assumed that she had seen a swarm of mosquitoes heading our way. As it turns out, she had spotted the Christ the Redeemer statue in the distance. Phew! I am not a religious person but the sight of Jesus was most welcome!

The statue, known as Cristo Redentor in the native Portuguese language, is one of the world’s most iconic landmarks. The thirty-metre statue is situated upon Corcovado mountain, so it is visible from many parts of the city. Including our modest hotel room.

We nonchalantly dismissed the Copacabana Beach vendors who were offering us deckchairs and parasols.

I provided some words of wisdom to Carol: “They are probably charging a fortune and ripping off lots of tourists. There are lots of naïve people about, so they will make lots of money. We are too smart for that though. We can just lie on our towels free of charge.”

Three hours later and our skin had been fried to a crisp. We had experienced higher temperatures in other places, but the humidity and intensity of the heat here was something else. Our hands and feet would remain sore, and an embarrassing shade of red, for the duration of our trip.

Worst of all, my head became covered in horrible-looking blisters. The locals must have thought that I had been involved in an accident involving boiling water! My scalp has never recovered, as my hair has become noticeably thinner since that fateful day on Copacabana Beach. Perhaps it simply provided me with an excuse for my balding head!

We were also ill-prepared for the gigantic food portions that we would be served with throughout the duration of the trip. On our first night, our meat platter seemed to contain every animal known to man, as well as side dishes of rice and chips. Foolishly, I also decided to order a portion of feijoada. I was keen to try one of the national dishes of Brazil, which consists of black beans and a variety of smoked pork and beef, even if it meant that we would have enough food for ten people.

Although we thoroughly enjoyed the food, we did not manage to finish a single evening meal during our eight nights in Rio. Carol and I have been obsessed with feijoada ever since. This reinforces the fact that sampling the local food is part of the joy of travelling. It is a shame that I was not brave enough to do this during my first few trips abroad.

My stingy budgeting almost caused us a spot of bother on a day in which we embarked upon the long but enjoyable walk to Ipanema Beach. Upon taking our seats in a restaurant opposite the beach, I realised that I had only brought a small amount of money out with us, so we would struggle to afford much. We each ordered a starter and I decided not to have anything to drink.

We would just about have enough money to cover the bill; we just needed to ensure that we did not incur any additional costs. Right on cue, a group of street performers started an elaborate dance for the benefit of the diners. Upon the conclusion of the routine, the group approached each table and asked for some money. They did not look like the type to mess about with, so I was in a tricky situation. I needed to make sure that I gave them enough money to avoid being brutally murdered, but that I kept enough to pay for our meal.

I placed seven Brazilian Real, which is worth less than one British Pound, in the hat in which they were collecting tips and awaited my fate. I received a stern look of disapproval but came to no physical harm. I just had to hope that my calculations under pressure were correct. Otherwise, we would be faced with an unexpected stint of dishwashing in a Brazilian restaurant. By the skin of our teeth, we had enough money left to cover the bill. I received another stern look of disapproval from our waiter though, who was almost certainly offended by the lack of a tip.

It was reassuring to see other people make fools of themselves. At least we were not the only idiots in town! We witnessed one young French man faint whilst waiting in the enormous queue for the cable car ride to the top of Sugarloaf Mountain. His mother said that he had been drinking lots of alcohol and sunbathing all day, which resulted in his dehydrated body buckling under the intense tropical heat. His unwise behaviour had cost him a chance to visit one of Rio de Janeiro’s most celebrated landmarks, but at least he got to stand in its shadow for an hour or so!

The mountain’s name refers to its resemblance to the shape of a sugarloaf, which was the traditional form of refined sugar that was produced and sold until the late nineteenth century. The name is also a reminder of how Brazil was a key location in the sugarcane trade. Sugarcane is one of the ingredients of the national cocktail, caipirinha. We sampled a few of those during our trip!

We do not know exactly what happened, but we witnessed the aftermath of someone else’s misfortune in Rio. Whilst enjoying a stroll along Ipanema Beach, we witnessed a man getting rescued from the sea and airlifted to safety. I guess that the problems that we encountered during our time in Brazil were pretty tame in comparison! The Rolling Stones were staying in Copacabana Palace, a few doors down from our hotel, during our last couple of nights in Rio. I wonder if Mick Jagger burnt his hands as badly as we did!

Having almost missing our outbound flight, we decided to book a taxi to the airport in Rio well in advance of our departure time. We wanted to make sure that we did everything in our power to avoid another mad dash to the airport. Unfortunately, some things are simply out of your control. A thunderstorm started just before we set off, which resulted in gridlock throughout the city. It took us an hour and a half just to leave the city centre, which caused Carol and I to feel as sick as parrots. However, I once again showcased my impression of a serene swan.

Our driver asked us what time our flight was due to depart. His reaction to this information consisted of a sharp intake of breath and a wobble of his outstretched hand to indicate that our fate was in the balance. Thankfully, we got there just in time. We may have made plenty of foolish mistakes during this wonderful trip, but at least we could leave Brazil without suffering anything other than mild embarrassment. And baldness.