Dia Das Maes

Now, one thing is becoming crystal clear. If they do something here, then they do it in a way you are unlikely to experience anywhere else on our planet or anyone elses. Sunday was Mother's day - and just in case there was any possibility of over looking the fact, every high street stall had a total refit in order to accomodate more branded plastic than is sensible. I'm not kidding.

Our little man has been preparing for a while and a special selection of his fine art went into a portfolio for his mum to treasure for eternity, along with a screen printed washbag of his nifty brushwork to remind her how much he cares everytime she trims her toenails.

All of this presented at a special cult-like mummies only event at the nursery, where the ceremony of the gifts was topped off with the presentation of a muhassive paper heart.

Mum, you live in my heart. Could I have a tenner for the pub?

Copacabana was awash with them. Paper hearts and paper roses. Now I know its really cheesy, but somehow it does actually feel nice to be somewhere pure love is so publically and joyfully expressed. Pass us a bucket someone? - I do believe I've just had another emotional episode.