After two weeks of travel and all the adventure of getting settled into our new life, we have finally sorted out some form of internet in our little house. It isn't very fast, and often cuts out, but is better than no internet. It is 6pm, and I am sat at the laptop in a corner of the kitchen. Ezzie and Willa are out in the back yard, playing with their new (hard won) toys - more of which later - and Katie the kitten is curled up on the sofa, washing her tiny paws.

Everyone arrived in one piece at Recife airport. It was late at night, and the arrivals lounge was filled with emotional Brazilians who had turned out to greet long lost relatives and foreign friends. There were banners, and family parties in t-shirts emblazoned with mug shots, people in sparkly wigs shaking maraccas and waving pom-poms. I struggled to get a space at the barrier, but eventually I did, and somewhere towards the end of a long stream of people, Magnus, Willa, and Ezra emerged. It was so wonderful to see them.

The very next morning we left the hotel for the supermarket round the corner to buy flip-flops for the kids. Willa had arrived into the tropical heat of Recife wearing winter boots with a fluffy lining, and Ezra had only his trainers. Magnus carried Willa bare foot and Ezzie borrowed my flip-flops which almost fit him anyway for the short journey to the supermarket. We bought the flip-flops, the kids put them on, and we left the shop to go to the beach. We were only two blocks away from the sea, but the walk there was a disaster. It turns out that walking in flip-flops is a learned skill that neither of the kids had yet acquired. They stumbled and fell over the whole way. To cross the big roads Magnus decided to just carry them. Half way across, the lights would start to change, flip-flops would drop right off the kids feet and there would be a mad scramble to get the kids safely over to the other side whilst kicking their errant flip-flops out of the middle of the road. By the time we reached the beach it was only 10am but the sand was burning hot – too hot to walk on. A large sign warned bathers about the danger of shark attacks. Ezzie and Willa were bright red and sweating profusely with the sudden change in climate. We retreated back to the hotel, tripping and crying and stumbling all the way. The next thing we did was take a taxi to the air conditioned shopping mall to get the kids sandals that they could actually walk in.

Later on all troubles were forgotten in the hotel pool. My dear friend Dora and her 18 year old daughter Rigoberta came to the hotel to meet us and we spent a lovely afternoon hanging out together. Rigoberta had just left Lajedo to start a nursing degree in Recife. She, like us, was settling into a new life, and full of nerves and excitement about what lay ahead.

The next day we went to visit Maria Luiza and Carlos on their farm just outside of Recife. As it was quite a long way we took a bus as far as we could go and then hailed a taxi and negotiated a fee for the rest of the journey. The driver was a bit unpredictable and at one point drove through a deep flood in the road in order to avoid a que of traffic in the next lane over which was flood-free. The water came into the taxi and we all got wet feet.

But we got the farm eventually, and spent a great day with MariaLuiza and Carlos, walking around their tropical orchard picking and eating dozens of strange and wonderful fruits. The kids ran wild all day gathering weird looking seed pods, inspecting insects, and collecting cocunuts and pineapples.

Willa holds up a Jambu.

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Magnus displays the Sapote he picked. That's MariaLuiza in the background.

That's the inside of a new coconut pod. It is just like cotton wool and you can eat it. It tastes mildly like coconut and will turn into a proper coconut if left to develop.

Ezzie finds some kind of wavy plant frond.

E Here is the fruit he picked.

Willa finds a pineapple.

The azetona. It tastes sweet and tanin-ish and makes your mouth purple.

After lunch we took it turns to swing in the hammock and Ezzie and Willa set up a ‘shop’ of collected fruits and things on the veranda table.

The trip back to the hotel was another adventure involving a wrong bus, some kind strangers who helped us find our way, then three other buses and a long winding journey through various ramshackle looking suburbs in Recife. It took a long time, but it revealed a whole unknown side to the city and a lot of the life within it, and was fun in its own way. We got back after dark and the first thing we did was strip off and jump into the moonlit swimming pool.

Ah, the pool! The best thing for Ezzie and Willa about Recife was, without doubt, the hotel swimming pool. It was almost impossible to drag them out of it. I don’t think any other guest had ever got their money’s worth out of it quite like Ezzie and Willa did those two days. On Monday morning we packed up and checked out, and that evening we arrived in Lajedo.

The house we’ve rented here in the interior isn’t exactly posh. In fact it’s a far cry from the hotel. So much so that Willa (a bit overtired and overwhelmed) spent the first evening crying and asking to go back to the hotel.

Since then, you’ll be glad to know, she’s got accustomed to the change. The house is small and minimalist, but Rosa, who rented it for us, filled it with balloons making it really welcoming. It has two bedrooms: the kids have the larger one with the window in it and Magnus and I have the box room next to it which basically fits a double mattress on the floor and nothing else. Every single thing in the house including the cooker and the fridge was leant to us or bought by me in the weeks before Magnus and the kids arrived. Somehow, with a bit of help from Rosa and other friends, I’ve managed to kit it out with all the essentials, including two fans, a couple of [the most deceptively comfortable looking] sofas you've ever seen - i.e. actually like sitting on a slab of concrete, and a telly.

The other essential item was a gorgeous kitten (which a cat loving friend has agreed to take over when we leave). Katie the kitten, needless to say, is a hit. Not just with the kids, but with Magnus and me as well. I thought Magnus wasn’t fond of cats but he went completely soft for her the first time she curled up and went to sleep on his chest. Katie, in the kids opinion, makes up for the loss of swimming pool. They spend all day carrying her around, involving her in various make-believe games. Luckily I remember how I, too, used to 'play' with my cat at their age, and have been keeping a close watch.

Niko the rabbit was going to come and live with us too, but he’s so happy at Dora’s house I don’t think we’ll move him after all.

Round the corner from us is the Abrigo (orphanage) which Rosa is the co-ordinator for. It’s in a big old house lined with ceramic tiles (which makes it really cool) and is full of toys, and other children – of course – which makes it an ideal place to hang out. There the kids have lot of friends and Magnus gets to practice his Portuguese as much as he wants.

It was Evelly's (the one with the crown) 5th birthday party.

Magnus and Willa with Emily, Evelly and Socorro.

A 20 minute drive away is the village of Santa Rita where we have already spent a night and two whole days. There Magnus is in great demand amongst the men who want to talk to him about football and take him out and about to bars and things. The kids love it there as they are incredibly free. I hardly see them. Off they go with the other children, running in packs, in and out of people's houses, chasing pigs, chickens and lizards. In the village, Ezzie gets to fulfill his life long dream of riding on the back of a motorbike. Another favourite spot is the ‘snooker shop’ where they go to play billiards and help themselves to sweets and chocolates (which we later have to pay for!).

All in all we’ve been treated so warmly. Breakfast in one person’s house, lunch in another, dinner in another. . . Everyone wants to meet us and all have been enchanted with the kids. Willa especially, who they say looks like a barbie doll. Several people have urged me to take Willa to Cele the rezadeira to have her prayed over, because, as they put it, being so pretty she’ll attract the evil-eye.

Willa eats ice cream on the floor in Dida's house with Maiera.

Ezzie inthe middle there. Andre driving, Gabriele on the back.

Back in Lajedo we’re meant to be hiring a woman to cook, clean, and wash our clothes during the week, but so far tooth ache has kept her from turning up. Another girl called Moniele has begun coming over to look after the kids for two hours each morning. We hope that eventually between Moniele and the other help, we’ll each find enough time to do some work. So far, time for work has been scarce as settling in has taken up every spare minute: visits to the village, and to see old friends; exploratory trips around town; solving internet problems, travel problems, electricity problems, car problems; toilet training the cat; hand washing clothes; dealing with ants and insect bites…

But finally we’re starting to develop something of a routine:

Wake up around 6 am and let the kitten back in. Make coffee, have breakfast. At 8 am Magnus gives the kids a gaelic lesson while I wash up and make the beds. At 8.30 am the kids have a shower and get dressed. At 9am they have their second lesson of the day (either maths, geography or biology – today for example, they learnt all about giant woolly mammoths with the help of the internet).

At 9.30 Moniele turns up to take the kids out for a couple of hours (usually to the orphanage to play) and Magnus and I do some work (well supposedly). Magnus goes to the local library which has about three shelves of books and one table with four chairs around it. If he manages to concentrate with the racket going just outside the open window, all well and good. I prefer to work at home. At around midday Moniele brings the kids back and we have lunch. Then it’s time to lie-low at home napping, watching telly or playing until the town comes to life again at about 2.30pm and the heat becomes less intense.

After 2pm we might leave the house again and go into town for a snack or an amazonian style milkshake (I’ll leave it to Magnus to explain what that is). We might drop in on someone. But often we get waylaid in shops because, of course, everyone working in them becomes extremely curious. There is no hiding our identity when out with Magnus and kids. The kids speak loudly in English and everywhere we go we have to explain where we’re from and what on earth we’re doing here. Without fail, people are warm and interested, and always tell us that we are ‘welcome’. I have given up trying to blend in and have started to embrace the opportunity it presents to make new friends.

The kids have been earning little stickers on a chart for good school work and good behaviour and when they’ve got five each, they’re allowed a visit to the toy shop. Ezzie had four and then lost one the other day for being naughty, but he did manage to earn it back and today both of them were entitled to visit the toy shop. Talk about the hard sell. Or perhaps people here have a different attitude to children. I had never seen a middle aged shop assistant be so obsequious to a five year old boy before, but today it happened. Ezzie came away from the shop with some sort of expensive army toy with guns and little figures – of the sort he never usually goes for. But he’s happily playing with it. Willa came away with a ‘barbie doll’ with a bald patch and half a dress (don’t ask). . .

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Lesson time at the kitchen table.