It was late Monday afternoon when my plane landed in Rio de Janeiro. I had my briefcase containing my most current research on lungfish, monographs, and my battered copy of Dr. Avila’s The Gold at the Bottom of the Lake, and just needed to collect my suitcase before I went through customs.
I’d decided on this occasion to make an effort to travel light. Although for the flight, I’d dressed casually in a sports jacket, trousers, loafers, and a button-down shirt, I had packed a suit on the likely chance something more businesslike than shorts, polo shirts, or swim trunks would be needed.
Once I got off the plane, I removed the jacket, rolled up my sleeves, and draped the jacket over an arm. Tucked under that same arm was the wide-brimmed slouch hat I should have worn in South Africa. I’d we
