Sunday, and we took a stroll round old Sorocaba. Despite the place being founded in 1654 by some bloke called Balthazar Fernandes, only a few buildings are more than 100 years old, and the old part of town has a flea-blown, vacant and tatty atmosphere about it. We had to seek refuge from a rain shower in a tiny bar which looked like a butchers shop once we were in: asking the old oriental guy behind the counter for three beers produced one bottle and three glasses, this gave us an indication of how wealthy the normal clientele were. Wandering a bit deeper took us into the 'working girl' area which we passed through without incident. On mentioning this next day to the lads at work it seems we were 1 street away from 'tranny heaven' were we could have had a few more problems.
