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About Belo Horizonte

I pull up near the old gas station—shady spot, y’all. This gal’s standin’ there, red heels, smokin’ a cig. I’m thinkin’, “She’s bold, I’m bold—match made!” I roll down my window, all cool, and she’s like, “Hey, tractor lady, you lost?” I’m dyin’ laughin’—lost? Me? Never! I say, “Naw, just curious, girl!” She smirks, tosses her hair, and I’m like, wow, she’s got *Timbuktu* vibes—untamed, fierce, y’know? “The desert hides its secrets,” like the movie says.

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The river? Amaze. The Solimões flows with a might, whispering ancient secrets. I’d sit by the riverside at Ponte do Sol, watching twilight rip the water apart. It’s like a scene from The Headless Woman, that murky, enigmatic feel—so damn surreal, man.

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