Olinda is a beautiful town, if that is one divided into two: Old Olinda and New Olinda. New Olinda is not worth knowing, it's a modern blight on the Brazilian northeast readied for World Cup tourists and the overshoot of nearby Recife.

Old Olinda, on the other hand, is UNESCO-worthy for being immortalized on the grounds of being the town that most looks like a painting ready-made for cash-packed visitors.

Each and every building in Olinda is painted in a contrasting wash that gives the impression of highly cultured town council. There are a number of colonial architectural triumphs that still stand among the ruins, alongside Church-owned towers and the remnants of a triumphant past.

It was in this picturesque scene that I decided to avoid the nearby FIFA Fan Fest in neighboring Recife and watch Brazil vs Chile in the World Cup second round.

The old town square in Olinda is not much of a square. It's a turning circle on the road to New Olinda but it still houses two bars that bask in the midday sun. As we waited for the afternoon kickoff, the bar I was in became packed tightly for Brazil's ascension to glory, or at least the quarters.

Alexis Sanchez, Neymar and Dani Alves were on TV hugging before the game. The Barcelona players set the mood for the contest by hugging in the tunnel. This was not going to be marked by malice and controversy.

It would be marked by its heightened sense of importance, not hurt by Brazil's players belting out the acapella national anthem in a way that at least two of the Three Tenors would be proud. Chile's matched them note for note and the game was afoot.

The atmosphere among the Brazilians was the most intense yet. Loud applause greeted the national anthem before everyone under the tent outside the bar sang along, including through the acapella portion that continued after FIFA's mandated 90 seconds.

Every Brazilian kick was accented with oohs and aahs from the crowd until David Luiz scored the goal we had all dreamed of after 18 minutes. Then there were 14 minutes of crowing, including the Brasilero chant that has personifed this World Cup, before a mistake let Chile in for an equalizer.

There were few Chilean fans in Olinda and fewer still who made a noise. Luckily, for them, they were drowned out by a charming but obviously lunatic crackhead. Brazil has a well documented problem with crack cocaine but this was the first I have come in contact with a victim of the epidemic but he was both charming and great value.

Every kick was played out on his face, more than that every decision found a home on his visage. He his hands reacted like a combination of the false sign language interpreter at Nelson Mandela's funeral and an unclothed apiarist with particularly sensitive skin. Odd doesn't cover it.

Moments like Hulk's supposed handball became the equivalent of jumping an electrified fence and then falling short but the cafe owners minded not. It was great everyone was there but the clear drug abuse was a little much for some, including the middle aged Germans who had tagged on to my table.

I've never been in a crowd that wanted one result so much, or has been so nervous, as the game teetered to extra time. It was still clear where it would be won. The only answer was penalties and that was another new experience. To disregard a crackhead as too involved is an adventure in itself but the local Brazilian fans were ready.

It went to penalties. Brazil were triumphant. The crackhead danced and then the skies opened. Maybe the soccer gods had good reason to cry.