Brazil

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I've had my Brafill, so it's time to go home! a.k.a. The last official stop on the trip.

Well, it had to come eventually. Every enterprise, even (or perhaps especially) the biggest, must have a conclusion. While we are visiting Canada before going home, and while we may not go home directly depending on flight prices (could go through Amsterdam, for example, and spend a few nights there), Brazil is the final planned stop that we will make. Also, technically, this allows me to come in on budget - the Canada trip is extra, a little gift to myself for working so hard the last 15 months! Fortunately, Brazil has proven to be a really excellent place to finish off - beautiful and relaxing.



We began by crossing from Ciudad del Este, Paraguay, dodging the smugglers with electronics in their socks. The bus dropped us in Foz do Iguacu, on the Brazilian side of the Parana river, and we walked to a hostel we had contacted. Favela Chic is a nice little place, done up somewhat like the favela buildings of Rio - bright colours and corrugated roofing. It's a bit nicer than a genuine favela, though; brand new, a fully stocked bar, clean rooms, hot water, hammocks, etc. We were going to stay in a tent that they had pitched out the back - Brazil is very expensive, and this was the cheapest option. The weather rolled in though, presumably following us from Laguna Blanca in Paraguay, and we opted for the dormitory. The dorm bed also came with an English breakfast, so we couldn't really turn down sausages.



We dropped our gear at the hostel, and caught the bus to see the Brazilian side of Iguacu falls. Some exposition: There are about a half dozen ways to spell Iguacu, but I'm sticking with the way Brazil spells the town (Foz do Iguacu) for simplicity; further, Iguacu, in the local native language, means "big water", though there are several myths relating to other, fanciful meanings; the falls are split 30% on the Brazil side, 70% in Argentina; Paraguay, Brazil and Argentina meet at a place near the falls called Tres Fronteras, the river Parana marking the borders; Paraguay does not own any of the falls, though originally this was all Paraguayan territory (before they started a war and got smashed). You can visit the falls from the Brazilian side (good panoramas) or from the Argentine side (much closer to the waters, kind of the better choice if you can only do one). There are a few activities, like rapelling or rafting, on site, and actually they are not madly overpriced.



Now, that out of the way, we went to visit the Brazilian side first. It was easy to get there from the hostel, with buses running right up to the entrance. Inside, you take a park bus, which stops at a few optional trails along the way. We didn't have time, and mostly these terminate at an activity start point, like the rafting, anyway. Instead, we got off at the main walking route to see the falls. It is a 1,200m walk, each corner revealing another small waterfall. Well, small compared with the main falls, but still pretty epic. The walk is beautiful, enhanced by the wildlife. Coatis, or quatis, are cute little...wait, more manliness here...admirable little creatures, similar in appearance to ant eaters - elongated snouts, agile noses and long, probing tongues. They have a ringed tail, like a lemur, and they use that and their claws to climb up into bins, reeling about with the apple cores. They can also be aggressive when trying to steal food from you, though we didn't see any of that behaviour. You will also see plenty of bird species and butterflies around. Eventually, we emerged at the main falls. It was an awesome sight; the volume of water cascading down, pummeling the rocks below, was breathtaking. As Eleanor Roosevelt said when she first saw it: "Poor Niagra!".



We milled around the base of the falls, then walked out onto a platform over the water which allows you to get a) great pictures, and b) soaked by mist. Then it was back to the hostel (through a vertiable labyrinth of gift shops). We slept well, very glad not to be in a tent. It pissed.



We had planned to go to the Argentine side in the morning, but the weather really was not suitable. We decided to stay an extra night, and pretty much just vegetated at the hostel. In the evening, we watched The Mission, a film starring Jeremy Irons, Liam Neeson, Robert DeNiro and Ray McNally, about the Jesuit priests who set up missions in northern Argentina and Brazil and southern Paraguay. The film was shot largely at the Iguacu falls, which we had just been to, and is about the Jesuit missions, which we had recently visited in Paraguay. These happy coincidences did not make it any more jolly to watch; a fairly good film, but not a laugh riot.



The next morning, we took the tour to the Argentine falls. It is possible to go by public buses, but with stops, customs, etc., it is a pain. The tour brings you all the way there and back to your door, and also stops at the Tres Fronteras for pictures. We took the usual photos at Tres Fronteras alongside the three flags, then let the tour crew handle immigration for us. At the falls, the plan was to walk the lower trail, then the upper trail, finishing off by taking the train to see the top of the main waterfalls (the Devil's Throat). We deviated from the plan; a Mexican guy named Drew whom we met said he wanted to visit the small San Martin island off the lower trail, and we joined him. San Martin is small, but tall, and we walked up some steep steps to visit the three viewpoints on the top. At San Martin, you can also take a dip in a very small section of the river.



We rejoined the group as they ascended to the upper trail. After walking this trail along the tops of the falls, we stopped for lunch. Very fortunately, we had decided to bring sandwiches with us - the food in the park was hideously overpriced. To this point, the views were not very different from the Brazilian side. You were certainly closer to the falls, but it was quite similar. When we finally took the train to the Devil's Throat after lunch, it was clear why the Argentine side gets better write ups sometimes. Frankly, I don't think waterfalls are my thing. I liked Victoria and Niagra, and I was liking Iguacu. However, other natural wonders seem more impressive to me somehow. That said, there was no mistaking the humbling power of the raging waters, thundering down into a mist so intense that you couldn't even see the rocky, shattering death that would await you should you fall. The sun, finally putting in an appearance, made some pretty beautiful rainbows on the mist. The Argentines, like the Brazilians, have built a walkway over the falls, and this one affords likely the best view of any falls in the world. We spent some time watching the water before heading back on the train to the entrance.



We spent one final night in Foz do Iguacu, then boarded a bus to the coast. We intended to spend a few days in one of the small coastal towns before Rio, but none of the buses stopped there along the way. We could get a bus to Sao Paulo, then go from there; however, the buses arrived in Sao Paulo around 3am, when it would be impossible to obtain a ticket. So, the plan was to ride to Rio, immediately jump on a bus back the way we came, and hopefully end up where we wanted to be around 19:00 or 20:00. The Bus from Foz do Iguacu to Rio de Janeiro departs at 12:00 (midday, if you don't know your 24 hour clock), arriving in Rio at 11:30 the next morning. 23.5 hours is probably the longest bus we've taken, and unfortunately it wasn't the most comfortable bus - not one of the semi-cama buses with large, reclining seats, but a fairly normal design. Plus side: they had a loo. As it turned out, we got to Sao Paulo at 05:30am, so despite having paid to go to Rio, we decided it was better to jump off. We bought a ticket to Paraty, up the coast and close to Trinidade, a place reccomended to us by a young English couple we met in Asuncion. It left in 2 hours from a different station, so we rode the Sao Paulo metro to the other rodoviario (bus terminal). We saw little of Sao Paulo, but the transport is really good. And when the metro emerged from a tunnel, sunrise allowed us to see that it is a vast urban jungle.



Our bus to Paraty was fine, comfortable and new, and when we pulled in 6 hours later, we jumped onto the next local bus to Trindade. That took almost an hour, but left us off close to Sea and Forest hostel, a really lovely spot close to the beach and some beautiful waterfalls and on the edge of a forest national park. The journey from Foz to Trindade took 28 hours...tough enough, but what a place. Foreigners and the increasingly wealthy Brazilian middle class like to journey down the coast from Rio to take a break. This tourism has ruined the beaches closer to Rio; Paraty, for example, is now an overpriced, crowded resort, full of bad food, bad service, etc. Trindade is feeling the pinch now, the tendrils of this type of tourism taking hold, but for the moment it is still pretty much paradise outside the town. There is a ton of jungle around, much of which you can hike in. The beach closest to town is taken up with restaurants and loungers, but a 10 minute hike over a scenic cliff top leads you to a much quieter beach, with some big, fun, washing machine waves. At the end of that beach, another hike through some jungle leads you to a natural swimming pool, the waves checked by some gigantic rocks. It makes for calm, clear swimming - ideal for snorkelling. In the pool, there are wrasse, trumpetfish, and a plethora of iridescent tropical fish that I cannot name.



On our first morning, we explored the beaches and the pool, soaking up the rays atop the rocks in between dips. Aside from trekking and swimming, there is not much to do...fine with us. One the second day, we went exploring along the river. Clambering up some rocks and scrambling along mucky trails, we came to El Pedra que Engole - the rock that swallows. At one end of this huge, flat rock, you can slip in through a tiny but energetic waterfall. You find yourself under the rock, but with an obvious path out and plenty of head room for breathing. Slipping out on the other side, slightly relieved, all you want to do is go again! After several runs through, we headed back a little to another falls. This one has a little pool worn into the rock by the action of the water, and two other rocks submerged make perfect seats. The water is great for cooling off on the hot Brazilian days. We returned that evening to the natural pool, exploring further with the snorkel. I climbed a few of the rocks, getting great views along the forested coast and back to the town and beaches. Feeling lazy after the swimming and hiking, we took the boat back to the main beach, cutting at least 30 minutes off the walk.



For our third day, we returned to the rock that swallows with Errin and Julia, an American and Canadian who were travelling together for a while. Errin is from Calgary, so we got some great tips on places to go there. They were a fun pair, and we passed the day with a lot of laughter and chat. There was a big group at the rock when we all arrived, and we passed through a few times - to their great amusement - before dipping in the small waterfall pool nearby. We headed down to the beach after the falls, and thanks to a few clouds, we were able to withstand the sun and spill around in the waves for a few hours. They weren't huge, but very energetic - mostly you could body surf, but sometimes you'd go head over heels and get spit out onto the sand. Mindless fun. We enjoyed a beer and a pastie on the beach - pasties being large, square, thin pastry sheets stuffed with minced beef and vegetables - then headed back for a final dinner at Sea and Forest.



After a beautiful nights sleep, sung into our rest by multitudes of cicadas, we had breakfast and took a van to Paraty. As there was no ATM in Trindade, we topped up the funds, then headed to a net café to make a few Skype calls home. Finally, we briefly visited the old colonial town, a UNESCO heritage site, where brightly painted buildings with corrugated roofing denote the original Portugese settlement. At 13:00, we got on the bus to Rio de Janeiro, a 4 hour trip up the coast. It had begun to rain, so it seemed that we timed our departure from the beach paradise well. On arrival in Rio, we took a cab to our hostel, 'Bosso in Rio'. Naturally, the cab was a bit of a rip off. I could feel the weight of this being our last three days on the official trip as we drew closer to the hostel; fortunately, there was plenty to do to distract us in Rio for the next couple of days.



On our first night in Rio, it turned out that the hostel had no kitchen. So, we were forced to go out and have a delicious chicken asado on the main street in Lapa, a popular party district a 5 minutes walk from us. The ice cold beer and perfectly tender chicken eased some of the stress; frankly, though our neighbourhood was quite a safe area, given the propensity for theft, muggings and kidnapping in this city, and the fact that it was our last 3 days, I felt more conscious of safety than I have in months. There were no problems that night anyway, so our biggest concern was the weather. It was pouring down, and with only 2 days to look about, we were hoping things would immprove.



And no, in the morning, they hadn't. It was pissing even worse than before, and much of the city was mired in fog. The tours of Rio are very expensive, and due to the security issues here, it is not advisable to wander around alone. With the price tag, we didn't want to spend the day hiding in the car from the downpour. We ventured out briefly to get a few supplies, then walked to the edge of Lapa to see the famous arches. They were pretty damned ugly. In fact, Rio is pretty damned ugly. Most of the cities that people have told us were unattractive or dangerous turned out to be safe within limits, and really quite attractive in colonial or ethnic quarters. Rio really doesn't have much going for it, except for isolated points of interest: the Christzilla statue and the Sugar Loaf mountain. We turned the corner from the arches for the short walk to the Rio Cathedral. Now, on the way here, two dodgy guys approached us, ostensibly begging. Usually, beggars do not split up and approach from two sides. We about faced, walked away, and as they caught up to us, about faced again. If they had turned to follow us that time...I don't know how it would have gone. And that is the problem in Rio. On the edge of a safe neighbourhood, near to a major tourist attraction, we could so easily have been in trouble; besides which, it is not so attractive that you want to risk your safety to see it. I would love the bustle, the chaos and the exuberance of a city like this, I could even begin to see the value of the graffiti and the worn facades, as long as I wasn't constantly looking over my shoulder.



So, on our last day, we took the comfortable option of a tour. It, as with everything in Brazil, was pretty expensive. We began by driving around collecting other people for the tour, which afforded us a bit of a look about town. Much of it is essentially built up favela, though clearly some efforts are under way to clear up certain areas. 7 police officers passed us inside 5 minutes in one particular spot. Likely, this is due to the upcoming World Cup. Now, I would never endorse criminality, but the majority of people living in a favela are simply poor; and I don't know that the roundly corrupt Brazilian police are cleaning up in a responsible and even handed matter. Even the name for the current process seems onerous: Pacification. All of that considered, the heavily armed drug lords cannot be easy to deal with. Anyway, our fellow tourists collected, we headed to Corcovado mountain.



Corcovado is perhaps better know as the hill on which the statue of Christ Redeemer (or Christzilla, as I dub it) stands. The hill is at 710m, and the statue stands 38m (8m of plinth, 30 of statue). The head weighs 30 tons. The arms are open, 'embracing' all parts of Rio de Janeiro. It is perhaps the most iconic image of Rio, and when we visited it was shrouded completely in cloud. Our pictures revealed the glory of the statue...as far as the knees. You could see more with the eye than the lens, but still not much. We ambled around the top, marvelling at the view of matt white cloud, then went to the abandoned hotel lower down the hill to await our van. The hill and monument were included in the Tijuca national park during the 1960's, so construction was forbidden; the hotel fell into disrepair. Now one can find numbers of monkeys living in and around the grounds; we took some pictures of the demanding little chaps, well used to people ignoring the feeding rules, then departed for our next stop.



The tour took us to see Santa Theresa neighbourhood. This is where our hostel was located, but we saw parts of the neighbourhood that we had missed. It is perhaps the one genuinely nice part of Rio, cobbled streets and tram lines, small and quaint restaurants and a number of art shops. Once surrounded by favelas, Santa Theresa has seen property prices rise precipitously as these have been pacified. We strolled the area, and enjoyed a huge slab of chocolate sponge cake from a stall. We moved on to see the Lapa steps; an artist named Selarón lived in Lapa, and decided to decorate the dilapidated steps outside his house. In time, the elaborate step decorations became better known, and people began to bring tiles to include in the work. Dozens of nations, Ireland included, have contributed to the work. The formerly penniless artist now supports himself by selling signed tiles and mall paintings in the style of the work.



Our last stop was Pao de Azucar, the Sugar Loaf. An unmissable landmark, this huge, oddly shaped rock can be ascended partially on foot. We used two sets of cable cars to get to the top, and admired the now clear view of the city. From on high, it does look pretty remarkeable - truly a beautiful and incredible setting for a city. So much water and so many beaches, forested hills and rocky mountains. We also got some better pictures of the statue from here. Finally, we descended in the cable cars again, watching the sun set slowly. The van dropped us off for another fantastic dinner in Lapa, barbecued steak this time, and we returned to the hostel for a brief sleep.



At 2am, we rose and dressed; our transfer to the airport was waiting when we got to reception. This was just another taxi in another city, but its significance to us was greater: it was the car that would end the round the world trip. The enormity of the finale had finally hit me before going to bed; I laid out some stuff on the table that I would no longer need, and therefore would not pack, such as DEET and mosquito coils. In a truly incredible 15 months, I have visited 25 countries, experienced countless adventures and cultures, had great times and bad - and this was pretty much the end, except for the unplanned stop in Canada and perhaps a brief stop in Europe. It was a slightly sad and emotional moment, but there was one important thing: adapting to life at home, making epic choices like where to live, what to work in and what to pursue in life - these are equal adventures to travelling around the world, or to any other. Travelling puts these things in perspective. Before you go, you somehow see life as an anchor, and travel and the free life as the opposite. Travel is certainly freedom, and into the bargain it broadens your horizons and encourages you make more of life; further, it lets you see your home life not as an anchor, but as roots.

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