An Idiot Abroad. Karl Pilkington

a costume I would have to wear. It was a ridiculous thing, an Andy Pandy-style outfit with blue feathers. It made me look gormless, but Henrique told me that was the least of my worries. He told me to remember to smile. This isn’t something I do a lot. I do smile, but not as much as some people. Even when I’m happy inside, my face does not always show it.

      We trained for another hour or so, then stopped, as Henrique was tired due to the fact he’d been dancing at the carnival for the last three days. I was knackered after three hours. There is nothing I can do about my fitness though. There’s not time, so I’ll just make sure I try to get an early night and eat well.

      Beef and beans again tonight. I just had beef, as I am now sick of beans.

      Before I went to bed I practised my dancing in my room and then did some smiling in the bathroom mirror. It didn’t look very natural to me, but then I couldn’t see myself very clearly due to the fact that we had no electricity in the toilet.

      Carnival day. I felt more worried about having to dance in front of a large crowd today than I did this time yesterday when I was heading into the druggy, gun-ridden favela.

      We were at the carnival site for 1 p.m., but when I arrived, I was told I wouldn’t be dancing until 8.45. I was already dressed in my big, feathered Andy Pandy outfit and had no other clothes with me, so I just sat in the van with Bin Laden while everyone else went to set up the camera equipment. It was a long afternoon. Bin Laden and I didn’t speak due to our language barrier. Mind you, he’s such a miserable sod, it wouldn’t surprise me if he had good English but just didn’t want to chat to me.

      I fell asleep for an hour or so until Krish and Christian woke me and said Henrique was in the parade close by. We tracked him down, and he gave me a few more moves that were easier to remember than the stuff he taught me yesterday. He then said if I forgot my moves to just use lots of energy and remember to smile a lot.

      We had a Bob’s Burger – Brazil’s equivalent of McDonald’s – and after that everything is a bit of a blur. I don’t remember much about what happened from then until the start of the parade. Henrique told me where to stand and repeated his tips about ‘giving off energy’. He kept reminding me to smile. Fireworks exploded, and so did my stomach. I don’t know if it was my nerves or the Bob’s Burger I’d eaten earlier, so I quickly used a toilet, as I didn’t like the idea of getting halfway down the parade and doing a Paula Radcliffe in front of 4,000 spectators and half as many judges.

      I found a toilet and was charged two reals (about 60p) to use it. It was grim. I sat on the dirty toilet and saw myself in the mirror hanging on the back of the door. There I was wearing the Andy Pandy outfit and a stupid gormless hat. How did it come to this?

      I didn’t have time to worry though, as the owner of the loo was banging on the door. I hate being rushed on the toilet. She banged again. I got outside where the woman was pointing at the price on the door and repeating ‘Two moments . . . two moments’. Sixty pence only buys two minutes of usage. Maybe I should have had the beans last night. The way them things go through you, I could have saved myself 30p.

      I made my way through the crowds to the start of the parade. It was busy now. Henrique put me with an oldies’ group. There was a woman wearing glasses who looked like Jim Bowen off Bullseye. It didn’t really help me being put with the old ones though, as it just added to the pressure. I suddenly thought, if I can’t keep up with this lot, that’ll really knock my confidence.

      And then the drums sounded and we were off. I was in the zone and gave it my best shot.

      Fifty-five minutes later I crossed the finishing line. I haven’t felt that knackered for years. I had a huge blister on my foot, and felt really dizzy and weak but glad it was all over.

      Henrique looked pleased with me, which was good. I asked him if the class would be going up a league, but he said he wouldn’t know for a few days.

      We went home today.

      I left for the airport at 1.30 p.m. and flew home via Lisbon, as there was no direct flight. I tried to look out of the plane window to see if I could see the statue that the English couple I’d met said was better than Christ the Redeemer, but it was too cloudy. I was back at home in London for 12 p.m.

      I preferred Christ the Redeemer to the Pyramids. 1–0 to Brazil.

      Christian just told me that Henrique’s dance team missed out on promotion by 0.2 points.

      Big Jesus was built in 1931. Construction started in 1922 and it took nine years to complete.

      It is made of reinforced concrete and soapstone. It takes about 220 steps to see the statue up close. The statue stands 30 meters tall and weighs 635 tonnes.