>> anthony: what is it? >> claudio: it's a -- clove with a mix of, uh, honey, lemon. >> anthony: alcohol? >> claudio: yes. >> anthony: alcohol of unknown origin dispensed from atop the head of a stranger? >> anthony: it's good. >> claudio: that's good? >> anthony: mama always said that was a good idea. >> claudio: welcome to salvador. >> anthony: i don't know if it's the booze or the music or the tropical heat but after a while bouncing from place, to place wandering down old cobblestone streets, different music issuing from everywhere, a different party, people flowing out of buildings, one gathering commingling with another, the music mixing, it really does seem that everybody is moving to some mysterious unknowable pulse. some unheard throb that moves people to constantly touch each other, stroke hips, necks, limbs.