(Simon:- One each table is a small 'sign' of sorts with which you turn to tell them if you want 'feeding' again. Big problem is if you forget to turn it while your tucking in you can end up with 2 or more of them at the table at once forcing all sorts of wonderful things at you. Strange - but practical thing in the toilets..big bottle of mouth wash in a holder with little cups and a dental floss dispenser next to it.....bits of dead cow stuck in your teeth must be very common in here.)
We had phoned the Emerson driver, but after 20+ mins, no-one had turned up, and so, assuming a misunderstanding, we asked the restaurant to get a taxi. Needless to say, the Emerson taxi guy turned up just as we were getting in the taxi. My food-befuddled wits were trying to muster enough pidgin Portugese to explain this, when Reginaldo (the Emerson taxi man), sorted it all out a few choice phrases. He is (and certainly would like to be thought of as) a cool dude: always in a smart, well-cut black suit. crisp white shirt, and Aviator sunglasses.
The hotel lift had an extra hard job carting our bloated bodies up to our rooms, and a swift siesta ensued. Nearly three hours in my case.......a bit of a backlog to work off. But it was most refreshing, and set us up for a planned short visit to Espresso Sorocabano for the Saturday night band .