Day 96: A Rainy Saturday In Rio

Sat. 17th November 2012

Whilst definitely better than a wet Wednesday in Bognor, the weather in Rio is not turning out to be like the mental images that we have of Rio. It is another grey, overcast day with low cloud and it is raining as we get up. Once again, we are grateful that we picked the two best days for the city and favela tours – it would have been disappointing to be up in the hills in the cloud and the favela in the rain would have been more slippery and smelly.

Having been based in Copacabana for the past few days and particularly having walked along both Copacabana and Ipanema beaches yesterday, we thought that we would spend a morning exploring the Centro district before heading off to the airport for our flight to Buenos Aires this afternoon. As we headed out, it was threatening rain and it seemed as if everyone had decided to stay at home. As with the City of London, it seems that everyone leaves for the weekend and the streets are quiet and the shops and offices all closed. Passing the building for the Central Bank of Brazil reinforces the similarities with the City of London.

We get as far as the Teatro Municipal opera house before the rain starts again. Unfortunately, we can’t get in – the interior, like the exterior, is supposedly very ornate, but you are only allowed in for performances. We have to make do with a couple of photos whilst trying not to get either ourselves or the camera wet before diving in to a street side cafe for a coffee. (Its and ill wind and all that!). Also close by is the Biblioteca Nacional, supposedly the seventh largest library in the world. Although not as ornate as the opera house, you can at least get inside the foyer.

The rain eases up, and so we head off once again towards the Lapa district to see the Lapa arches which we saw from a distance on our city tour. This whitewashed, former aqueduct, runs high above the streets. It was later converted into a tramway – from the tram depot to the start point of the tram up the hill to the Christ the Redeemer statue, but after the fatal accident (see Day 93) is no longer used. The scale of the aqueduct is impressive, but they definitely need a fresh coat of paint and there isn’t much else to see nearby.

We still have a good 3 or more hours before we need to head off to the airport and we seem to have exhausted the nearby possibilities. I’m sure there are worthwhile things that we are missing, but I had expected there to be more to do in Rio. We have heard about the Rio Sul shopping centre (and seen the shuttle buses) and we haven’t yet experienced the Rio Metro, so we head off to the nearest Metro station to kill two birds with one stone.

As advertised, the Metro is easy to use – less busy than London, less intimidating than Moscow (no barriers that try to bite your ankles!) and with only two lines scope for getting on the wrong train was limited. At R$3.20 (£1) per ticket, it was cheaper than the Tube too. When we got back above ground in Botafogo, however, things were less simple. We had about 1km to walk and there was a distinct lack of signposts. Fortunately, Janet’s Trip Advisor app for Rio (on her phone) had offline maps and so we were able to navigate our way there.

Once there, Rio Sul turned out (unsurprisingly) to be very much like every other shopping mall you’ve ever been to. Big, bright & full of shops selling stuff that we really don’t want. Perhaps we were just tired after all of our walking but we didn’t appreciate Rio Sul – and the lack of a store guide of any sort made the whole experience quite frustrating. I even turned down the opportunity for a vanilla cappuccino at Starbucks.  There was, however, WiFi available and so we were able to call up a proper maps app and so the walk back to the metro was simpler than the walk there.

By the time we got back to the hotel, it was time to collect our bags from storage and get a taxi up to the airport. The taxi ride and check-in process were both uneventful though we were glad that we had checked in online last night as that significantly shortened the queue. Sadly, no lounge access for us today – it is only the flights on our RTW ticket that are business class. Once through security, the airport was  quiet enough though, unlike the zoo that is Heathrow.

Buenos Aires is some 1,200m (2,200km) south of Rio and one hour behind. When we got off the plane though, it felt like it was a century ahead of Rio (and don’t even start with La Paz!) – a modern airport that felt efficient and easy to find transport into the city (Taxi Ezeiza). Even better, we are back in the Spanish speaking world and I can understand (better) what people are saying. Janet accused me of showing off when I had a (simple) conversation with the immigration officer.

We had been warned that drivers in BA were mad and that impression was reinforced on our drive from the airport. We clocked the taxi as doing over 140km/h at times – the fastest we have been on ground transport since leaving the UK. Our hotel seems to be reasonably centrally located, so after having checked in, we went for a short walk round (and a beer). The cafes with packed pavement tables and the occasional street musician were a good sign for what we hope is going to be a great stay in BA.

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Day 95: Walk Around The Beaches

Fri. 16th November 2012

It is our last day close to Copacabana Beach before moving to the centre of Rio and the weather is still not lazing on the beach sunny. Having said that, as this is a bank holiday weekend in Rio the beach is busy – like you would see on Brighton beach – all wrapped up but determined to build sandcastles and enjoy. Instead of sunbathing, we opt for a walk along the beach and around the headland to Ipanema beach. It was definitely more wet suit weather and surfing time than bikini time. There were quite a few heads bobbing in the water waiting for the right wave.

I might have guessed Dave had the Starbucks app on his phone at the ready and it just happened there was a Starbucks nearby. The Christmas songs playing and logo on the cups was too much in mid November! I know I am not sure what Christmas will bring this year with none of the usual weather or decorations at home (I nearly bought a foot high plastic tree for less than a £1 but resisted). It will be our first Christmas without the boys but we do have Skype booked.

Ipanema beach is separated by a canal from the next beach Leblon but it is very dreary and not worth the walk. At the canal we turned inland to where the canal joined a large lagoon, Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas, and I was reminded of Christmas yet again as there is an enormous tree being decorated to be floated around the lagoon from December 1st.

Not tempted by the pedaloes or “Boris” bikes, we headed for a cafe for lunch before collecting our luggage to transfer hotels. As we had been walking for the best part of two hours and the Metro stations are not overly convenient for our transfer we opted for a taxi which was much easier but, given the traffic, not necessarily much quicker. This will not help our budget but never mind.

There are a couple of cafes across the road from our hotel so we sit out for a drink just before 6pm, whilst it is still safe to venture out. Quite pleasant until the church bells start and make us jump. We checked at 7pm that the double glazing in our room worked, otherwise the earplugs would be out again.

The location of our hotel, Sao Francisco, reminds us of the heart of the city in London where everything is shut outside office hours. As we walked around everyone, was busy getting home after a days work and the only places to eat here are McDonalds and KFC – we couldn’t find any restaurants at all worth the name. Fortunately, the buffet in the hotel is reasonable (in both price and quality) so we opt for that rather than taking a taxi further afield and heed the Trip Advisor reviews which do not recommend walking at night. We have most of tomorrow to explore downtown Rio before our flight to Buenos Aires so content ourselves with an early night watching Harry Potter on TV. (We have watched almost no TV since leaving the UK, so this is a bit of a treat).

 

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Day 94: Favela Tour

Thur. 15th November 2012

Having said our final goodbyes to everyone yesterday, it was just the two of us at the breakfast table. We’d better get used to the experience as we don’t have any more group tours booked. We’re on our own until we meet Myf in Melbourne in February next year.

After yesterday’s city tour, our next priority was to go on the Favela tour and see a little of one of the favelas that Rio is known for. Looking on Trip Advisor, the reviews for the tour are at the polar extremes – some folk seem to love it and others seem to have hated the experience. Only one way to find out which category we will be in!

One of the other things that we’ll have to get used to now we’re on our own is being at the mercy of local tour operators and their flexible timings. We had a thirty minute wait for the minibus to arrive at our hotel – Danielle, the guide, blamed some of the others for being late at their pickup. Sure enough, when we got in the minibus it was a real international group – Italians, Germans, Argentines, Singaporeans. Fortunately, everyone spoke English – so that was one thing we could cope with!

Our tour was to the Rocinha Favela, with 300,000 inhabitants it is the biggest, but by no means the only favela in Rio (or Brazil). There are some 300 favelas just in Rio and over 11m people live in favelas in Brazil. We were surprised to learn that the term favela isn’t Portuguese for slum or shanty town, but actually is the name for the type of tree that used to cover the hillside before they were cleared to make way for the people.

The favela is built on the hillside, right next to one of the richest districts of Rio. As there is only a single road that takes you to the top of the favela, everyone has to go past some very large houses on the way to view the homes of some of the poorest inhabitants of the city. We are dropped off in a busy, noisy street at the top of the favela and then head down an alleyway. Once inside the favela, there are no roads just narrow alleyways festooned with cables and pipes.

Our first stop is in art workshop that is run to support the local kids. From the roof, we get a good view out over the favela and we get our first view of the ramshackle, haphazard buildings that wind their way down the hill to a sports complex, funded by the government, at the bottom. Whilst we wait for another group to finish on the roof so that we can go up, Danielle talks about the drug lords who control the favelas and the police attempts to control and pacify them – particularly ahead of the World Cup and then Olympics. She is very sceptical as to whether the police are having a positive impact, this leads on to a wider discussion. Some of the others seem to be far too interested in how the drug gangs work and what could be done about them.

At last, we move on and start working our way down through the favela. Danielle explains that there is no central planning here – people just build where there is available land. Now that there is no more clear land, people sell their rooftop and a someone else will build a ‘house’ on top (and then a third person will build on top of that and so on). We certainly saw 4 storey houses built higgledy piggledy. Having built a house, you splice into the nearest mains electricity and water (and cable TV). Hence all of the wires and pipes running above and alongside the alleyway.

As we work our way down and through the favela, the alleyway gets narrower and the smell gets stronger – the sewer seems to run beneath us sometimes and beside us (and open) at others. Danielle points out a couple of places where there has been a mudslide and to other houses where the pillars holding up the house are disintegrating. Halfway down we stop at a shop that doubles as a bakery. As it is lunchtime, we buy a snack – I go for the ham and cheese stuffed bread that seems to be a local favourite. We also get the chance to try the local firewater, cachaça – they have one-upped the Mexicans and their worms in the tequilla. Here they have a crab and a piece of sugar cane in the bottle. It would have been rude to say no to a sample and at least you couldn’t taste the crab!

All in all, we were glad to have done the tour. However, despite the terrible housing and conditions that we would run a million miles away from, we didn’t get the impression that people were really poor (as in African slums). All the people we saw were dressed in clean(ish) clothes and looked reasonably well fed. Danielle talked about how the children all go to school (getting free transport outside of the favela). When we asked about life expectancy, Danielle said it was the same as the rest of Rio – around 70.

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Day 93: Rio In A Day

Wed. 14th November 2012

At breakfast, it is time to say goodbye to everyone – the eight others who we have been with since Lima 45 days ago, as well as the three (four including our tour guide Zaida) who joined us in Santa Clara 16 days ago. The partying last night went on a long time after we left and so there are a few tired/hung-over faces. Thank you all for our great adventure across South America – we will always remember the amazing things we did.

Afterwards, we decide to walk down street and book city tour for this afternoon, as weather is not forecast to get any better and clouds are higher today and it isn’t raining. As we walk down to the tour office, we also check out the Metro station, which looks straight forward for our transfer to Centro on Friday.

We walk back to the hotel along the beach front. As this is Copacabana Dave cannot wait to check out the beach for those thong bikinis that Rio is well known for but there is not a soul sunbathing. The beach is windy and empty, but at least the Wi-Fi there is free.

We met up with six others from our old group to go on the City tour and squeezed into a sixteen seater minibus which was already half full by the time it arrived at our hotel and off we went hoping the weather would be kind to us and remain clear enough to see the views.

Luckily the first stop was at the Cristo Redenter (Christ the Redeemer) statue, which is situated on the 700 metre peak of Corcovado mountain in the Tijuca Forest National Park not far from the centre of town. The statue was constructed between 1922 and 1931 and is said to be the largest Art Deco Statue in the world. We reached the peak by road and were a bit disappointed not to go on the train, but never mind. The views from the top were amazing with just a few wisps of cloud around. It is a good place to start to get an idea of the layout of Rio without paying the extortionate price of a helicopter trip. We were also lucky with the weather and just in time to see views before the clouds came in.

The next stop was the area called St Teresa where we went for walk and saw the mural in memory of the tram crash which put an end to the tram travel in Rio and also some of the local art.

Next we were heading for the Cathedral so thoughts of the usual 17th Century buildings with nave, alter, side chapels etc came into our mind so we did not expect what came next.The latest of a series of Cathedrals for Rio was built between 1964 and 1979 (younger than us but we won’t go there!). It is Mayan style, as we had seen in Yucatan, and has standing room for 20,000 people. There are stained glass windows on four sides which are 64 metres from floor to ceiling.

The sights were coming at us in all shapes and sizes and next was no exception. The Lapa steps are nothing like the Spanish Steps in Rome. The steps are the life’s work of the Chilean artist Selaron and the colours were a sensory overload! It was interesting to spend some time just looking at all the different pictures and colours on the tiles and the names of many places all over the world. Even the Simpsons had a place next to iconic Americans – Martin Luther King and John F Kennedy. Part way up the stairs was an art gallery (another fridge magnet from here for our growing collection) and Selaron himself was sat there watching the tourists go by.

There was not any time to stop at the usual places a city tour would visit in the Historical centre. That will have to wait until Friday when we change hotel and will have time to exploring the centre of Rio on foot.

The final stop on the tour is to visit the Sugar Loaf mountain, so named as it looks like a type of Portuguese bread apparently? The first of two cable cars takes us to Morro da Urca, which gives good views back towards Rio and Christ the Redeemer. It also gives views of the harbour including an enormous yacht, which is well beyond our budget and over twice the size of any others.

The second cable car keeps going up to the top of the Sugar Loaf which is 396m high and has views of the city airport watching the planes take off and fly by as well as back towards Rio and Christ the Redeemer.

The tour with “Don’t be a gringo – be a local” (www.bealocal.com) was over 5 hours long and an excellent start to our stay in Rio. The weather could have been better but at least the rain and low cloud stayed away.

Dinner was simple at a “kilo restaurant” and quick as it was just the two of us! However it was strange not being part of a sixteen strong group which we will miss, as well as all our new friends who have now gone their separate ways, some home (old and new homes!), some staying longer. We will miss them but thanks to Facebook will still be able to keep up with them.

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Day 92: Raining

Tue. 13th November 2012

“It’s raining” said Janet as she (carefully, given lack of attire) peered past the curtains after getting out of bed. We all make mistakes in life and mine usually revolve around paying insufficient attention to Janet. In my defence, it wasn’t raining much – by the time we went down to breakfast, barely at all – so the usual t-shirt and shorts should have been just fine.

Today, by common consent, is the beginning of the end for our group trip. Today we have our last transfer; our last full day together; our final group meal; and our final evening together. After 44 days of pretty much non-stop activity, we really have got to know and appreciate each other and it will be odd when it is just the two of us again.

The first section of our transfer to Rio is on the boat back to Angra dos Reis. We are at the jetty in good time for the 9am catamaran and the first sign of trouble is that there is no catamaran there. No worries, it is probably coming over from the mainland, but as the minutes tick by we know that something is wrong. It turns out that it is broken (not sure what the Portuguese equivalent of roto is, but it will probably be similar) and we need to take one of the schooners that usually ferries tourists to one of the beaches or on caipirinha parties. This, of course, is slower than a catamaran and so our one hour crossing has become a two hour crossing. At around the half-way point, it becomes a wet crossing as the heavens open.

All of a sudden, only wearing t-shirt and shorts makes less sense and leaving my waterproof jacket in my backpack as opposed to day-pack makes no sense at all. Whilst standing in the middle of the boat keeps me dry, it doesn’t do much about keeping me warm. We then have to pick up backpacks as they are unloaded and dash for our mini-coach for the rest of our transfer. At least as it is a private transfer – albeit one with some strangers on board – the air conditioning isn’t on ‘arctic’ setting.

Initially, the scenery is similar to that on the road up from Paraty – steep-sided, tree clad hills and bays studded with islands. However, as we get closer to Rio, the countryside flattens out; we encounter a dual carriageway; and we start to see more built up areas and even the odd shopping mall. The drive up to Rio is advertised as being around 3 hours – but the weather is not going to help at all.

We eventually get into a built up area that can only be Rio. We cross a long bridge and then drive along the coast. We have no map (or Internet connection) and so are quite disoriented. We get our first location clue when we drive up to the International Airport to drop off two of the strangers. We are running late – so far we’ve been on the bus for around 4 hours. Even worse, we know that the International Airport is to the north of the city, when we have come up from the south. For only two people to get off! Why couldn’t they drop us off first!!!

Then it is roads and tunnels and built up areas. Eventually we see the signs saying Copacabana and even better can see the beach and the sea. Sadly, not at all like the mental picture that I (and probably you) had – instead of blue skies and girls in skimpy, skimpy bikinis, we get grey skies, rain, and big (grey) waves crashing down empty beaches. The good news is that our hotel is only a couple of streets back from the beach – the bad is the the forecast for the next few days is for more rain.

By this time we are so late, that the people who have booked to do a City Tour today have missed it. They are lucky as if we had been on time, they’d have been doing it in the rain and the views from Sugar Loaf or Christ the Redeemer would have been around zero. Given the weather forecast, we need to have a think about when we want to do the tour. It has been plugged by Zaida as really good value given the entrance costs for some of the famous attractions.

We get checked in and have some time to settle in and see how many of our clothes got wet when our backpacks were outside on the ferry. Some had hotel rooms looking like Chinese laundries! It is then time to head out for our last evening together as a group. A rodízio churrascarra restaurant with its never ending supply of meat is a popular choice for a meal but we are less sure about the wisdom of going to a nightclub afterwards. We are even less sure when the taxi drops us off outside and there is a longish queue waiting to get in. Fortunately, Zaida sweet-talks the bouncer and we are ushered in the side-door. Whilst the atmosphere isn’t as lively as the club in Cusco (all those days ago) it is good to spend a final few hours (and a final few drinks) together before heading back to the hotel.

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Day 91: Seaside Treats

Mon. 12th November 2012

Lopes Mendes beach on Ihla Grande is said to be one of the top beaches in South America, so I had to investigate and try it out! Time for a girls outing and six of us set off to catch the ferry, after buying supplies in the supermarket. It had rained overnight but the sun was trying to come out so fingers crossed we would have good weather.

There were no signs up on the jetty for our ferry and we were early so we strolled up slowly. However we were approached by a local  who showed us to a boat.  Off we followed before we remembered 1) never trust a stranger, and 2) do not get into a vehicle without checking it out along with the destination and price. Once we had quickly confirmed these and saw there were others on the boat looking like they were heading for a beach we boarded.

However five minutes after leaving the jetty we were heading for shore, starting another panic we may be wrong, but it was just to pick up more passengers.

We headed along the coast for 45 minutes before arriving at Pouso beach where we found the path marked to Lopes Mendes beach and all the passengers headed that way. We knew the beach we wanted was on the other side of the Island over the hill and about 30 minutes walk away. Soon the path through the trees opened up onto a beautiful beach with golden sand and turquoise water – just as advertised.

The sun shone for two hours providing good sunbathing weather. Too good for me as I retreated to the shade with my book after about an hour, and still have a few sunburnt patches to prove it!

After lunch of bread rolls (the slices of cheese we had grabbed in the supermarket turned out to be slices of pastry!) and crisps, the weather changed and became overcast, windy and a bit chilly. We therefore agreed to meander back to the other beach an hour early for our ferry due at 3:30pm. A group of small monkey type animals were in the trees looking cute and quite friendly.

Once we arrived back at Pouso beach there turned out to be an unadvertised 2:30 ferry and we were just in time for it, which was good as it would give us more time to check out the shops in Abraão.

The town was very busy on our return, as a huge cruise liner had arrived and disgorged all its passengers on the quiet sleepy town. Also there were passengers queuing for the afternoon ferries leaving for mainland.

Once these people had left, the shops emptied and so, as Dave had splashed out on a diving trip today, I decided it was time to complement my limited wardrobe with a dress from the plentiful supply around town.

Dave had a good time diving, though as he had been warned, the visibility was only 2 to 3 meters so it was very much like diving in fog. The group he was diving with were marine biologists from Recife in Brazil. They were very friendly, but slightly mad. There were also all equiped with underwater casings for their cameras and somehow they came back with some fantastic pictures of fish and other sea life – Dave’s excuse is that they were professionals and knew where to look. He is also claiming that he now needs to get an underwater housing for his camera. A likely story in my book – the upside, however, is that I get to spend more money on clothes!

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Day 90: Living On An Island

Sun. 11th November 2012

It is starting to sink in that we are getting close to the end of our trip with G Adventures as we drive up the coast from Paraty to Ihla Grande (Big Island), the penultimate stop on our trip. As we started out, a 45 day trip seemed an enormous time but the days have gone so quickly and we have got to know each other so well – and got on so well, it will be strange when it ends and we are on our own again.

As we suspected the other day (at the end of our marathon bus journey) it is a pretty coastline. The steep sided, tree covered, hills roll down to the sea and then out into the sea as the coast is dotted with islands big and small. The horizontal coastline mirrors the vertical – no straight lines here – and the road has to weave its way around bays and over headlands. We gaze out of the window of the minibus watching the landscape pass, brain mostly switched off.

Fortunately, we only had a couple of hours in the bus before we arrived in Angra dos Reis for the short boat trip out to Abraão, the only town (village?) on Ihla Grande. On the trip across, and then even more so as we arrive and walk through the narrow streets of Abraão to our hotel, is that this is like a smaller version of Isla Mujeres (back in Day 34 – gosh, that seems a long time ago). It is not just that we had a catamaran for the transfer, but the whole feel of the town with the street facing the beach lined with a mix of restaurants, dive shops and t-shirt and tat shops. Everything, though, is on a much smaller scale – smaller catamaran, fewer people, fewer shops.

Our poussada (guest house) turns out to be a set of wooden cabins sprawling in gardens on the outskirts of town. Definitely pretty enough and comfortable enough for the couple of days we will be here. After dumping the bags in our cabin, it is time to explore the town and the island – and as a first priority, grab some lunch. We stop off at a ‘kilo restaurant’ – essentially a buffet where, after you have loaded your plate, you plonk it on a set of scales and then pay by the weight of food on the plate. Quite a good idea all in all – service is quick and you only pay for what you want.

The island is well provided with beaches and with walking trails that connect them and so, feeling refreshed after lunch, we head out on one of the shorter trails to see what we can see. Our walk takes us out of town along the coast to Praia Preta (Black Beach – so called for the colour of, some of, the sand) and then inland and back along past an aquaduct, a rock pool, and some look out points. Only 2 or 3km of pretty easy walking but it was good to be out and stretching our legs. I certainly felt like I deserved an ice-cream and so we stopped at a sorveteria on our way back from town – this time, it was ice cream bought by weight. I restrained myself by sticking to a small bowl.

Whilst the ice cream was definitely a good idea, stopping at the supermarket to buy some of the local firewater at R$3 (£1) for a 50cl plastic bottle was perhaps a less good wheeze. The clues were in the price and the container. Still, lying in the hammock on our veranda with Kindle in one hand and coke & firewater cocktail in the other made for a very relaxing end to the afternoon.

In the evening, our group meal was at a beachside restaurant on a long table running down to the sand, with the sea noises in the background, illuminated parasols and lights wrapped around the palm-trees and a musicians playing guitar and bass. Excellent surroundings for one of our last meals together – and all the better when the musicians did a very passable version of Pink Floyd’s ‘Wish You Were Here’. Later in the evening, the musical theme continued as further along the beach there was a small group playing Bob Marley songs – wrong hemisphere, but right ocean, right ambience and nicely played on a single acoustic guitar and 4 guys on percussion. Definitely a chilled out end to the day.

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Day 89: No Buses Today

Sat. 10th November 2012

It was a free day today. One of the optional excursions today was a local bus to Trinidade beach which sounded interesting but Dave said no way was he getting on a bus today. Another alternative, which about half the group signed up for, was a boat trip out to some of the nearby islands with stops for snorkelling and fuelled by caipirinhas (the local cocktail). Given the cloudy overcast conditions we felt that sounded too energetic and so we opted for our own walking tour of Paraty, which is a very pretty colonial town with cobbled streets and whitewashed houses with windows painted in pretty colours.

In the morning we walked along the main shopping street to the bank but the cash machines said the connection was down which was a worry as it is Saturday. Unfortunately there are no banks on Ilha Grande where we will be for the next two days so we need a plan B if they remain out of operation, but that was a problem for this afternoon.

We then walked to the harbour which is full of colourful boats all trying to sell us boat trips or booze cruises and as we had already turned down the group trip today we were not persuaded.

As it is close to lunchtime we head through the historic centre to the main square looking for a restaurant. The guidebooks had advised that the streets are still paved with uneven large cobbles making walking difficult and they were not wrong – it was really hard going. The Portuguese were the first to land on the East coast and in Paraty, hence the Portuguese influence and their language in Brazil.

The main square was typical of many we have seen, including the horse and cart rides. It is good to get back to car free zones. We were able to find a table overlooking the square and watch a few tourists go by as we sat enjoying lunch.

To continue our tour we headed over the river and out of town to explore the Fort marked on our map. The trouble with tourist maps, besides not always being to scale, is they do not mark the contours. However we should have twigged for a fort to be effective it will be on a hill. Still the uphill was not of Inca Trail proportions, but a gentle incline just enough to be breathless at the top (although we can no longer blame breathlessness on altitude!). The views made it worthwhile even if the fort was shut and we did not think we were missing much as the entrance fee was less than £1.

The other reason for heading this way from town was to visit the beach recommended by Zaida. The walk was a good stretch of our legs to work off lunch and feel we (well Dave anyway) earned an ice cream where you load up a bowl with flavours of your choice and pay by the 100g.

Just enough time for a siesta before heading back to the bank and luckily this time the machines were working so we have cash for meals and excursions until we get to Rio.

There was some amusement as the group returned from their boat trip. They had had a good day swimming and tucking into the free caipirinhas,and were distinctly merry! They were going to take some herding to be ready to go out for our meal tonight. Needless to say, there were a few no shows.

We were a bit sceptical at this evenings choice of restaurant being Brazilian Thai and I am not normally a Thai fan (with the exception of Chris’ Green Thai prawn curry of course), but our fears were unfounded as the food was amazing. I loved my Red Thai curry which had prawns and pineapple and was served in a half of a pineapple.

As it was Saturday night we ended the evening with a drink back in the main square, with lots of live music around and much more crowded than lunch time. All in all, a lively atmosphere in a pretty town – and being by the harbour with hills and tree it felt so very different from some of the towns in the Andes where we were only a couple of weeks ago.

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Day 88: 24 hours To Tulsa–But Further to Paraty!

Fri. 9th November 2012

I woke up this morning to find Janet sleeping beside a strange man – even more bizarrely he was wearing a uniform and wasn’t looking particularly happy. Fortunately, it isn’t grounds for divorce and there is an innocent explanation.

We were (still) on the night bus from Iguassu. As there were some spare seats, I had moved to the front so I could stretch out over a double seat leaving Janet in the row behind. Apparently, at one of the stops in the middle of the night, a policeman had got on (that sort of thing just happens here) and found me sleeping in the seat that was allocated for him, so he sat down in the seat behind – beside a sleeping Janet. When I woke at about 7, he was just sitting there with Janet oblivious beside him. When I came back from the loo he had gone (presumably to the driver’s cab).

Janet woke, none the wiser, as we pulled in to a service area for breakfast at around 8am – we were running about 2 hours late at this point and it wasn’t going to get any better. We were still 4 or 5 hours from Sao Paolo and then another 6 hours from Paraty. Nobody had showered, washed or even done their teeth, we were all feeling jaded and grimy – and there was still a long way to go. Still, a double espresso and a cheesy croissant (they do love their cheese do these Brazilians!) helped somewhat.

When we got to Sao Paolo, we met up with Matt and Andrea who had flown from Iguassu there yesterday. We were a little jealous – but only a little as they hadn’t had any time to see around Sao Paolo and we didn’t feel too bad (yet!). After more coffee, we loaded up into a private minibus for the 6 hour trip to Paraty. It had rained most of the night, rained during the day and was still raining as we set out for Paraty. As we threaded our way up and over a range of hills we got caught in a queue of traffic and sure enough 30 mins later we passed the emergency services dealing with a crashed fuel tanker.

A big cheer went up around 6pm when we caught sight of the sea – the Atlantic Ocean. Surely we couldn’t be too far away now. Then we saw the sign – Paraty 139km. Our hearts sank. Two more hours, tired, grimy, cramped and grumpy in a minibus. Oh for a magic wand!

Even worse, it was getting dark and it was still raining. We got some tantalising glimpses of sea, trees and hills as we headed up the coast. It would have been pretty had we been able to see the views properly. I consoled myself by thinking that it was barely 40 days ago we were in Lima, by the Pacific Ocean, feeling nervous about the “Tsunami Evacuation Route” signs. Now here we were by the Atlantic having crossed the wide part of South America predominantly overland. (We did have 2 flights, but they were more north to south). This last stretch was our longest single segment – some 1,400km. I assume our route was the one shown below.

At last we made it to Paraty just after 8pm, nearly 27 hours after leaving our hotel in Iguassu. Paraty seems to be a pretty, seaside tourist town – small enough for us to explore tomorrow. We decide that our priorities are a beer and some simple food that we won’t have to hang around too long for and so we find a pizza restaurant near the hotel that fits the bill nicely. No way is it going to be a late night tonight – and doubly no way, with brass knobs on, are we getting on a bus (or even a boat) tomorrow!

 

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Day 87: It’s Thursday so it Must Be Paraguay

Thurs. 8th November 2012

Time to pack our bags again and move on as it is our mammoth 24 hour bus journey tonight, across Brazil to Paraty on the coast. We do not leave the hotel until 5:20pm so are taking advantage of the optional trip to see the “Black Market” in Paraguay as it is only a few kilometres away. It also means we can add another country to our list.

The Iguazu river meets the Parana River close to Foz Do Iguassu and this is the border with both Argentina, which we visited yesterday and Paraguay . Like yesterday the journey involves crossing a river but this time half the bridge is painted yellow and green and half blue and red. However the paint work is much more faded and there are high mesh barriers to deter suicide jumpers! The other difference is that the border controls seem non existent except for bored looking border guards standing around. Our passports stay firmly in our bags and no stamps in them today, which is good as they are filling up fast.

The roads are busy and it is a grubby looking place. I hope this will not be like our trip to Tijuana in Mexico, a day trip from San Diego were there was many market stalls and locals selling poor quality goods on the street just to get hold of US dollars. Ciudad del Este in Paraguay certainly had the street sellers offering socks, boxers and many other items we did not want. They were very persistent and even tapped you on the arm even when we were talking, to get your attention.  The market stalls also sold the usual array of T shirts, watches, bags, DVDs etc. James Bond Skyfall was available on DVD for £1!

In addition the the stalls were shopping malls selling masses of electronic goods. The prices may be cheaper than Brazil and the rest of South America but are about the same as in the UK so no bargain iPads or tablets to be had, although Dave did get the portable hard disk he wanted at a good price.

The final stop was Mona Lisa department store which sold perfumes, make up, electrical goods and sports goods, again no bargains to be had. There was also a really bizarre system whereby you chose the goods that you wanted at the counter, then had to go and queue to pay for it at a kiosk and then go and queue a second or third time in order to collect it. All in all, it was an interesting shopping trip to pass away a wet morning and with the sheer number of shops you can see how it has earnt the nickname “The supermarket of South America”.

There was little choice for lunch close to our hotel so we ate in the nearby supermarket cafe, which was buffet style and it appears common in Brazil to pay by the weight of your food selected. Therefore lettuce is cheaper and stodgy pasta not so.

Finally it was time to catch the bus, so armed with warm clothes, as the buses have the air conditioning turned up,and snacks to keep us going we were off. After less than an hour the coach had to stop at a checkpoint and the driver opened the door between the passengers seating and his cab and babbled full pelt at Dave and I in Portuguese. Luckily Zaida was there to translate – he wanted us to move to the back of the half empty coach to equalise the weight before going on the weighbridge. Was he trying to infer something?? Most bizarre but you have to do as you are told. Soon we were on our way again and we could move back to our seats in the second row. The scenery was not much to look at, fields and trees in the rain so after our snacks and a stop for a toilet break it was time to shut the curtains and try to sleep. Dave moved to the empty seats in front of us to stretch out.

The noisy chatter from the cab called for earplugs as well as facemask to shut the world out. It certainly worked as the next thing I knew was 8am and time to wake and a breakfast stop. Apparently we were running about 2 hours late as the weather had been torrential rain so the bus had to go much slower than normal. It was comforting to know that the drivers cared and were not rushing to keep to schedule. (PS I now regret the delay but more about that tomorrow!)

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