Rio, Brasil 2

---

Day 1 (Thursday) - I got back to the Ace Hostel around 8 o’clock, so just before sunset. I claimed a bed, and then made myself some food. I had the equivalent of Ramen noodles in my bag and had to get rid of them soon before flying to Argentina. I had planned on going to Ihla Grande the following day with three others and invited Steve to join as well but one girl backed out as soon as I got there and another wasn’t there to confirm if I made the reservation. The only place still available was the place consistently ranked by websites as the worst hostel of those available to book online. I waited till I got everyone’s ok then when everyone was onboard I checked again and it too was gone. The reason I had come back from Sao Paulo had fallen through, which was a little frustrating. And with the limited time, Steve couldn’t go and another girl had made separate accommodations. It was down to two and we booked a stay for Saturday at the worst hostel in town. That night was the college football national championship game, which I watched till the wee hours of the morning.

Day 2 (Friday) - It was interesting being back in the same hostel after a couple days. Most of the people I had known were gone and there was a new crop of faces. I woke up earlier than expected for going to sleep late. I sat in the breakfast area nursing my coffee at a table by myself. At the table in front of me was a girl that I recognized from the night before. I had heard her talking to the owner about her just starting her trip from Europe and seeing that she was alone thought maybe she could use a friend or some words of encouragement. I said hello and was completely ignored or unheard. Guessing it may have been the latter, I tried again. This time she responded. Soon enough she, Daniela, had joined me at my table and she was telling me about her concerns. She told me she had very little money and therefore needed to change Euros and was changing hostels that night to one in Leblon (just past Ipanema). Remembering my first day and being a sucker for a damsel in distress I offered to help. I had been planning to go to Ipanema Beach that day so I told her that I would take her to a money exchanger then help her find her hostel. I could see the tension melt off Daniela’s face and she further asked if she could join me at the beach. I said of course as she was one of those few people along the way where I felt an instant friendship with. We did her chores and then went to the beach. Daniela is from Vienna and speaks German, Hungarian, English and a little bit of Hebrew and French. I liked that she didn’t mince words. It struck me over the day that I couldn’t remember meeting a single girl with that quality in the states. She was brutally honest, not for the sake of being rude but just for being honest. When in the states, it seems like I never get the full truth and when I do it is meant to hurt. After the beach, I took her back to her hostel and I went back to mine. That night, I was determined to go to Lapa (the nightclub street I had missed the Friday before because of a sleepy group). Steve was going to come as well, which I thought would ensure it being a good night, as I didn’t know many of the others. I was waiting around the hostel for Steve (as I thought we were supposed to grab dinner beforehand) but he was running a lot later than I thought. In the meantime, I met an odd woman from Argentina who formed a weird attachment to me. I tried to find reasons to get away from her but she kept tracking me down. Finally, Steve arrived and because of a miscommunication that was largely my fault he had already eaten. But he was kind enough to go to the corner restaurant and sit with me as I ate. We went back to the hostel and played a game of pool while we waited for a big group to be ready to head to Lapa. Just after 11 we took off on a bus down there led by Natalia. Once on the street, we got some drinks and waited for Ruth. My first first was seeing the largest drag queen I have ever seen. He (not sure whether to say he or she) must have been 6’5” and wearing high heels. His friends and him came up and tried to speak with me but they knew very little English and I sensed that we didn’t have that much in common. When I got back to the group, I ran into the Swedish guys and Mo from Itacare randomly. We talked a little while and they hung out with the group. The odd Argentinean girl kept circling me and never let me out of her sight. When Ruth got there, she even commented on it, asking why she was staring at me. Shortly thereafter Steve got mugged. He was using the restroom and five guys came up behind him, one grabbing him by the throat. Fortunately Steve had already had a Rio education. On New Year’s, a guy had stolen his camera. Steve did however feel it, followed the guy and shook him till he got it back. On Copacabana beach, Steve was approached by a guy claiming to be Mafioso who asked for Steve’s money. Steve had wisely left it in his hostel. So this night when he went to the bathroom, he asked us to hold his stuff. But still he was quite put off. It was a dangerous night. One guy in our group got robbed 3 times that night (latter 2 times didn’t do much), others got robbed from our group and I saw several others chasing after their assailants. I decided to call it an early night (especially since I had an early morning the next morning). A group of us went back to the hostel and I was happy to have done so. Rio is a dangerous place, this was not an out of the ordinary event. I met several people who were robbed at knife point, gun point and pick-pocketed. I was very much looking forward to leaving town the following morning.

Day 3 (Saturday) - I was hoping to catch a 9:00 bus to Angra do Reis, the city from where you catch the boat to Ihla Grande. I woke up later than I had planned only to find that my travel companion had bailed on me. I probably would have just given up on the whole thing if it hadn’t been for the night before. I made it to the bus station around 10:15, which made the 11:00 bus the next available.

---

Comments

[Steve]

Other incidents on my time in Rio...
*Shouted at by a prostitute *Grabbed by a homeless man *Gunfire outside my favela hostel *Being given a bullet by a random woman for "my protection". Welcome to my world. Lovin' the blog by the way, dude. Don't forget to give me a shout if you end up in Blighty...