From Chapada Diamantina, Brazil
This is perfection. Mountains all around, a river to swim in, tired legs, warm sunshine and a cold beer in hand. Nothing tastes better than a surprise. And this very cold beer, in a very remote shack, in a very beautiful valley, is as surprising as things get.

I knew that anything Mr & Mrs Wilson don’t grow, they bring in by mule. I didn’t know that would include bottles of beer. Nor did I know there was such a thing as a solar powered fridge.

From Chapada Diamantina, Brazil
I stepped outside, miraculously chilled caipirinha in hand, to find the dark forms of the valley walls framing a night sky dense with the swirl of the Milky Way, and a lunar eclipse. I'd spent months anticipating the drama of the mountains, but some moments you can't envisage. Often these are the best.

There isn't a camera in the world that could have captured that sky, not in my hands anyway, but this photo at least gives you a sense of the landscape of the Chapada. You'll have to come and see the night skies for yourself.

From Chapada Diamantina, Brazil
Everything we were served was brought in from far away by mules. Except, eggs. You can't leave these to the mules, so they have to be layered with cotton and carried in a large backpack. I tried to carry the backpack.

15 steps that's my limit. The locals have hiked for over 20 miles. In flip flops. Who would have thought that those 15 tottering steps 'carrying' 100 eggs deep in the Chapada Diamantina would be the memory burns brightest?

From Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
A bell rings furiously. Mothers and children appear on every side, tumbling towards the street, the little ones immaculately turned out in white and blue. As a tram rattles to a creaky stop, off jump the weary, rumpled students of the morning shift. On jump the fresh pressed afternoon intake. Hot desking students is normal here.

I feel at first grateful for what we have, then intrigued by what they have, and humbled, the vanity chased out of me.

From Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
From Corcovado you understand how beautiful Rio's setting is. From Sugar Loaf you find out how darn big it is. Beaches, bays, islands, mountains, tumbling favelas and huge apartment blocks unfold in an ordered chaos. You then come to understand that, amid the rolling hills and sharp granite peaks, this really is no place to build one of the world's great cities.

But that's Rio, where life comes at you from all angles and somehow hangs together.

From Salvador da Bahia, Brazil
After a third round of lamb, as I slumped close to oblivion, I reflected that green and red weren’t the right colours for the flags. They should have been green and white, as it was surrender that was uppermost in my mind.

This is ‘churrasco’ dining, where a platoon of waiters bring unending freshly-grilled meats until you tell them to stop, using the flags. It was high time I lowered my green one. But perhaps one more before I hoist the red.