Capaz! This legendary expression of Southern Brazil couldn't do justice to my expectations and promises ahead of a two and a half week visit to this country. One university, two football teams, three barbecues, four chimas, five cities, six hotels, seven beds, eight pounds in the real for a pair of alpargatas, the whole nine yarns. The trip was well timed to coincide with the crescendo of a political crisis and a spontaneous blanket protest march, and amply spaced to reminisce about previous travels to this golden but cursed nation. However, would I be lucky enough to escape the tribulations of a thinly-cloaked English independence campaign, otherworldly business email chains and nutty correspondence from sharing-economy tenants at my summer cottage, before they walked off with my front door knocker? All this and more, as told to a pda during the morning and evening commute of a careworn Northern Line rider.