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Published: June 16th 2006
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Before leaving Rio for the second-to-last time, I decided to meet up with one final insect. ´Mosquito´ was the nickname of my legendary hang gliding guide and he was a very interesting chap, having lived and glided all over Britain, Japan and China. He had the indestructible air of a superhero. I think I too would have made a good superhero. My alter-ego would have been ´Lagerman´, complete with a suit fashioned from old cans of Stella and a much feared kebab ray (some may claim I already have an unpleasant prototype of the latter). Unfortunately, though, my only special power is the ability to sleep standing up and my only contribution to saving the world is a nascent project to introduce bidets to the favellas of Brazil. Mosquito had the privilege of my company for a quick jaunt through the swirling currents of air above Rio, and I bought into his nickname wholeheartedly by slapping him in the face occasionally and spraying his eyes with poison. The glide turned out to be Another Highlight Of The Trip So Far (or AHOTTSF as I have just now decided to refer to it).
The fun started on take off, where I
Superman pose
Sugar Loaf in the background. was urged politely to sprint towards the edge of a platform suspended high above the Rio skyline. Failure to do so can lead to unfortunate plummeting, facial grazing and months of wearing a metal neck brace. Indeed, one runs until the ground disappears and one´s feet are freewheeling like a cartoon coyote. Once airborn the sensation is fantastic. Lots of adventure sports outfits tell you that their activity gives one the sensation of flying (zip lines, downhill biking, rappelling, rafting, diving etc) and of course this keys into one´s childhood fantasies, or at least the ones that don´t involve seeing through people´s clothes. Hang gliding is the closest I have come to this sensation, and it is an incredible feeling. The glider swoops around, ascending and descending with the air currents, all in relative silence. The views of Rio were stupendous, and we flew over the water, beaches and the millionaires´mansions to the west of Ipanema and Leblon. The flight was too short by half, but out of the things I´ve done on my journey so far, this may be the one that I most want to continue upon my return.
I had an inexplicable urge for risotto after
Idyllic Buzios
The view from my window my flight (one of the peculiar sudden urges that arises after prolonged travelling - I imagine it´s akin to being pregnant), and found succour in the finest Brazilian / Australian restaurant I have ever been to. A small victory, I know, but it is not often that one satifies an obscure food longing in an unfamiliar city. The next day I enjoyed the thrilling England vs Paraguay match in a coffee shop packed with Cariocas - one of those stand-up varieties where the coffee is cheap and personal space is non-existent.
I still had a few days left, and asked for a recommendation from the guys who organised my trip to Bonito. They suggested Buzios, so off I went. Buzios is a chic seaside resort for Cariocas escaping from the bustle of Rio, and is spectacularly beautiful. Allegedly discovered for the outside world by Bridgitte Bardot, the place sports beautiful, clean beaches and a host of bars and restaurants. By South American standards, it is also very expensive, although my incredibly plush hotel still costed less than a Travel Tavern in London.
I spent a few days bumming around the beach, snorkelling (including a rather panicked ´am I
Flying over Rio
Above the mansions to the West of Leblon. really THAT far out to sea?´ moment), stuffing truffles into my mouth, snorting cocaine from a starlet´s cleavage and trying to balance a Faberge egg in my belly button. Two of these are true. I watched the first half Brazil´s first World Cup match on a giant screen in the hotel but was disappointed to be accompanied only by a number of grumbling retired Argentinos. I watched the second half in my room. There was also precious little evidence of hysteria on the streets. One desultory beach buggy did the rounds of the town with horn blaring, but I wasn´t caught up in any kind of celebratory sexual frenzy that one might have expected from the TV pictures of scantily clad fans.
I had to head back to Rio to prepare for the unnecessarily mammoth trip to Costa Rica and did so with a heavy heart. South America has been a blast - enormously varied with great people at every stop. Part of me rues that I haven´t been more adventurous with holidays in the past, and it is a shame that only now do I know my ´perfect´ route through the continent. I also wasn´t prepared for the
Skiving Brasileros
Bronze statues all over Buzios give the impression that work is being done... ease of travel in SA. Whether spending loads on flights, or roughing it on Andean cattle buses, getting from A to B and finding somewhere to bed down never proved overly trying. I may have been lucky, but I suppose that I was also expecting the worst and was pleasantly surprised. And what have I learnt of the fine burgers of SA?
The Columbians like plastic surgary and very tight stonewashed jeans.
Peru is full of Japanese tourists wearing funny hats and its monkies are awash with contagious diseases.
Bolivian miners cannot function without (or indeed with) lethal sugar cane rum. Evo Morales seems like a nice chap - hopefully this won´t bar my entry from the US.
Chileans are insecure about the width of their country.
Argentinos are insecure about everything, and have the worst haircuts I have ever seen.
Brazilians dance a lot and embrace petty street crime with a fervour.
And what of their relationships with each other?
Well, the Colombians are fairly well respected (feared?); the Bolivians and Peruvians dislike each other for being so similar, and dislike the Chileans for past slights; the Chileans don´t dislike anyone, as they´re so busy worrying
about the width of their country; the Argentinians dislike the world for ruining their currency; everyone dislikes the Argentinians for being arrogant; the Brazilians dislike the British police for shooting one of them on a tube train, but are too busy having fun to harbour any real grudges. And everybody (I mean EVERYBODY) seems to dislike America. I get no joy from noting that the large neighbour to the north is perhaps more unpopular now than it has ever been. I don´t want to sully this blog with politics when I could be writing more about meat I have eaten or conveniences I have visited, but it´s difficult to travel around SA without the locals launching into learned discourse on the international political environment. Western first world apathy seems distinctly absent from most SA countries. Britain seems to have hitherto escaped being tarred with the same brush, mainly I think because there is a strong cultural memory of Britain being a bastion of fair play and good manners (the same outmoded view of Britain is reflected in the music one hears in bars - The Beatles, Rod Stewart and that swine Phil Collins are everywhere). In any case, I have
Buzios at night
Decked out for the football, but not exactly going crazy. not disabused people I have met from assuming I am Argentinian, Chilean, Swiss, French, Australian or Norwegian. Besides which, appearing French has allowed me to forgo the suffocating constraints of personal hygiene.
A fairly comprehensive analysis, I think you´ll agree. If the Queen is reading this, I would like to be the Ambassador to Fiji. Please.
Costa Rica next.
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Jeremy Granger
non-member comment
Thanks
Hey Ian, Looks like you really had an amazing adventure through South America. I had a great time going over table manners with you and Chris during our Inca Trail hike. If for some reason you find yourself in San Antonio, Texas then you have a friend and a free place to stay here. Take care. Your friend, Jeremy