Lagoinha (little lagoon). Paradise on Earth.

No, no... it's not a ghost, and neither is the photo doctored in any way. It's merely a pretty amazing trick of the light. Literally. Stand in the right spot, take the picture, and you instantly develop a glow.

Me and my father in-law, Ariovaldo, at Varvito. And that behind us is a lot of limestone.

Seems like a good harvest this year

Cris - the love of my life :-)

That's me... just hanging around.

It's mid-winter here in Lagoinha, but yet the water is as hot as it gets in the Strand area (south-east of Cape Town) during the peak of summer.

What the? Can't I forget to put my clothes in the drawer for just once??

This is my wife, Cris. I dunno how she gets herself in these situations. That's limestone formation, that is.

This is Guaraja - boating section. And this modified tractor in the background was truely something to behold. It is able to wade rather deep into the sea in order to launch and retrieve boats.

It's September, and that means flower festival in Holambra! The food! The flowers! The food (again)! In the foreground, Cristina (right), my mother in-law, Elvira (left), and a humungous walking Tulip.

How do you like them apples?

In Holambra, it's all about the flowers - 40% of Brazil's cultivated flowers are produced here. And if you are a rose lover, it's simply a must see.

Money do not grow on trees, but klompe do! This tree was imported in 1957 from Holland and supplies the whole city with durable footware throughout the year.

Possibly thanks to the strong Dutch influence, and specifically their love for flowers, Holambra is a stunningly beautiful place, in sharp contrast to many other cities in Brazil. This photo says it all. In the foreground, my lovely wife, Cristina.

Amazingly, I was able to ask for a koffie met melk at a local restaurant. Some of the original settlers (in the background) are merrily playing harmonicas and guitar to tunes of Dutch origin (and rather reminiscant to boeremusiek to my ear), but occasionaly also to some feet-tapping north-Brazillian tunes and rhythms.

A group of Dutch people decided to make a living in Brazil after the second world war, and some of them settled in what was to become Holambra. Many of the children who travelled by boat from Holland in 1949 are greybeards now, but they still speak (nearly exclusively) in the Dutch language. My home language, Afrikaans, is a derivative of the Dutch language, and I was quite comfortable conversing to some of these people in Afrikaans.

To my very great surprise, a little piece of Holland in Brazil in the city of Holambra, only 30 minutes drive from our home in Campinas. And this place is as Dutch as it gets. Even the road signs have a tulip motive.