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Published: February 20th 2008
Ilha Grande
Pretty much paradiseHello there, things good? It´s time for another installment of my now world famous blog, and what an installment it promises to be. It´s been an action packed week so lets get straight down to it.
The big Island, or Ilha Grande to the natives, is where we kick off after last weeks three day stint in Rio de Janeiro. The main characters of this little adventure were feeling a tad fatigued from all the effort of sunbathing on Ipanema beach and sightseeing you understand, so the opportunity to get away from the stress of recent life was a most welcome one. A two hour bus journey south along the coast, followed by a two hour trip across the water then we were at Amaraáo, our home for four days and five nights. It really is quite a big Island, although only a few small settlements are scattered around, and Amaraáo being the biggest still seemed a fairly desolate place. That said, all the amenities we had become accustomed to were in abundance; every other building was a hostel, a restaurant or an internet
Me
Unwinding from the stress of it all cafe. Thats what tourism will do for you I suppose. Days 1, 3, and 5 consisted of either sleeping in a hammock or on the beach. Perhaps occasionally grabing a bite to eat. Nothing to taxing you understand, that wouldn´t be the done thing. On days 2 and 4 we did try to stretch the legs a little. Firstly we got a boat round to the otherside of the island and embarked on a mini trek through the forest to a hidden waterfall where we took a little swim in this small portion of paradise. Later the boat carried on to where another one of the Islands 100+ beaches for 'diving off the side of the boat madness´and snorkling. Someone found a starfish which I picked up and then had wrestled out of my grasp because I almost killed the little fella. In retrospect it probably does need to stay submerged in the water at all times. Lesson learnt.
On day 4 we took another trek, this time all of 2 hours, from the top of the Island to the south. Our target was a place called Lopes Mendes. The trek was challenging, but arriving at what is said
to be one of the finest beaches in Brazil was more than worth it. I´d love to argue against the statement but you just can´t, this place was perfect. Shangri-la you may say. Walking back after a day in the sun had been ruled out due to a general lack of effort, so another boat trip was in order. Setting off to find the pier about 30 minutes away, we managed to catch some monkeys jumping through the trees, doing what monkeys do. First time I´ve seen monkeys outside of the zoo so this was another definite plus point. Wildlife is massively abundant on the island, owing in part I think to the fact that there are no vehicles aloud. When crossing the road, you should watch out for crabs the size of plates instead of cars. Probably the most commonly found creature on this island is the mosquito however, easily the worst aspect of the whole place. On my first night I showered in repellent, only to wake nursing approximately 593 bites. Outrageous! I´ve already declared war on the starfish clan apparently, it´ll be the mozzies next I tell thee!
And so that was basically Ilha Grande. Well
The waterfall
A relaxing dip under the water worth the trip, and the relaxation aspect was quite necessary I might add, as the sunday we travelled back was set to be rather hectic. We arrived back in Rio and managed to check back in to the Ipanema wave hostel. The time was 15.30, and in 30 mins, a little football match was set to kick off at the Maracana no less. For the benefit of the layman, the Maracana is right up there with Wembley stadium and the Nou Camp as one of the temples of football. The stadium hosted the largest crowd to watch a football match: nearly 200,000 people back in 1950. There was no chance of leaving Rio without adding my name to the list of spectators at this famous arena. Time was, of course an issue. These events can be a little fiery as they attract some of Rio´s less reputable gentleman so the hostel offers an organised tour for guaranteed safety. This left at 2, but we had to chance it. Jumping in a taxi, We arrived outside with about 5 minutes to go till kick-off. It was fair to say the place was pretty intimidating as on the way we´d seen a
Me
About to take the plunge police escort of around 3000 of the more ´passionate´ fans walking to the ground. I think the police pressence was less for their safety and more for anyone who may have stumbled into their path.
Tickets were an instant priority. We were fairly nervous about the match in Uruguay but once we got to our seats we were fine so felt the same situation applied here. Upon finding a small hole in the wall, we purchased two and were up into the ground. The game was being played between Vasco de Gama and Flamengo, Brazils best supported team. As we headed up the stairs and into the stand, we realised our hasty purchase of tickets was perhaps ill-advised, we had landed directly in the middle of the Flamengo fans. The place was packed with everyone standing on chairs, and the steps you walk to get to seats were filled out with people standing on them. Health and safety officers would have had a field day. Fortunately, us gringos are ´football fan professionals,´ and by clapping and jumping around when everyone else did we seemed to become one with the crowd. I even tried singing the words to some of
Monkey in the tree
I´m not sure if it came out too well but there is a monkey in there their songs, although Im sure it just came out as a blurred noise to anyone who could hear it. First half, and Vasco take the lead thanks to a fine finish. The Flamengo fans look irritable; they had seen their team lose 4-1 the week before. Nonetheless, the rallied behind the team and equalised thanks to a headed. There was pandemonium. Flares and fireworks were set off, the crowd jumped up and down in tandem, and grown men embraced like long lost brothers as they screamed in delight. One guy next to me screamed in an absurdly high-pitched voice for all of a minute the simple word ´GOOOOOOOOOOOOL.´ He looked like he was crying with emotion. I would have laughed if someone had given me the assurance he did not have a weapon on him. As no one did, I followed suit, screamed like a girl, and then high fived him. When in Rome...
Second half, and Vasco are awarded a penalty. The Flamengo fans are devastated. Devastation that turns to delight as Edmundo (a name all football connoisseurs will instantly recognise) misses. Five minutes later they are positively ecstatic as they take the lead on the counter attack.
Same deal as before, only it seemed to go up a notch. Everyone had a full beer in their hands from half time, and the cans were thrown in the air drenching everybody. I got pushed in every direction and became forced into many ´hug situations.´ The guy screaming did so again but this time fell to his knees. One guy even picked up Aaron and held him aloft for about half a minute as though he were a trophy. They were happy people, and took delight in what I think were several crude gestures to the rival fans. At full time the players even joined in which I was led to believe was frowned upon in sport: what happened to the ´humble in victory, gracious in defeat´ mentality? We left, satisfied by our experience and somehow managed to beat 70,000 locals in a race to the taxis. On a sad note, because we didn´t take the tour I have no pictures as cameras were said to be a no no. You´ll simply have to take my word for what I saw.
That wasn´t the end of Sunday by a long way however. The two gringos had an evening
date with the Favelas to attend to. The Favelas, as you are already aware are fairly rough places. Guns, drugs and poverty...you know, that old chestnut. Well, they also have parties, and if you´ve seen the film City of God, you´ll know what I am talking about. Our hostel currently offers an excursion to one such party every sunday night and so we went along. Firstly, to allay any fears, this such Favela was apparently safe, and to prove it they have guards searching everyone who walks through the door. Very reassuring. Our tickets had included access to the VIP area which was less of a luxury and more of a necessity for the outsiders in a room of 3000 locals and about 20 absurdly conspicuous folks such as myself. In the VIP area the bar are toilets were fairly accessible, but in the downstairs in was difficult to move, or breathe for that matter. As much as I was enjoying things, there was another issue. Every single person there seemed to be trained to the standard of a ninja in the art of dancing to Brazilian funk. I have no such training, but we all felt fairly eager to
The Favela party
At times they would set off fireworks and rockets right over your head. They know how to set an atmosphere give it go, so I needed so sort of remedy. 'Two more please, barman...'
Down in the main pit and it wasn´t too bad. Crowded mind, and everybody called me a gringo, but I think it was more of an affectionate term. One rather questionable feature of a Favela party is the method by which the men will attempt to ignite some kind of relationship with the women present. Impressive dancing? The art of conversation? Nope, they grab them by the hair and try to kiss them without so much as a witty chat up line. If the girl is resistant, she fights the plucky fellow off. If she is impressed with this diplay of macho bravado, then the sky is the limit for these young lovebirds. Romance being dead? As if...
That was the Favela party, but the next day we were in for the real thing. We were heading to the largest Favela, right into the eye of an ever present storm in Rio. The place in question was Rocinha, a place a little over 1 sq. kilometre and home to approximately 200,000 people. We had a guided tour for this, who apparently have some kind
Aaron
With a crazy topless guy. In fact, everyone there was crazy and topless of agreement with the A.D.A (Amigos dos amigos, or friends of friends. This is the militant, drug-dealing group that controls this area) not to shot the people they bring in to the Favela. To walk in alone would be very dangerous to say the least. We had discussed the ethical side of a favela tour with some other guys in the hostel earlier in the week, as going on a excursion there turns the place into something of a zoo that has an almost de-humanising effect on the people you see. That said, the value of the tour is quite apparent and no hostility was shown to us. Basic services, such as the day care centre for children are run exclusively on donations from the public that would be limited if the tour stopped. The situation in the favela is pretty terrible, and our tour guide explained the irony of its very existence. Every so often, when someone is killed who is deemed a civilian from a stray bullet in one of the many gun fights drug dealers have between the police and themselves, there is outrage. Politicians and respectable members of the public speak out against the atrocity. Our
guide explained that the trouble exists because these very people, the middle and upper class of Rio, are the one´s who buy the drugs that keep the dealers in business. The situation in the favelas will continue as long as the drugs dealers are in power, and all that can be done in the meantime is to try and alleviate the situation for the many innocent. While the danger and level of poverty is loathesome, many residents choose to live here because of the location. Two minutes after you leave a favela you can find yourself in one the plusher regions of town, where work can be found for a good salary. This is a more favourable option than comuting from property two hours out of the city. Additionally, because the government offer no support, the people dont pay taxes. The potential of violence is outweighed by the economic benefits for the loacals.
We were informed we could take pictures of whatever we liked except the actual drug dealers themselves who are a little photo-shy, and we´d be warned when one was about. The day before the guide had confiscated a camera off a guy who´d tried to take
a photo on the sly and put them all in danger. We were both prepared to follow the rules. The trip begins by jumping on the back of a motor bike and being individually driven into the heart of the area. This was probably scarier than the concept of coming across a rifle-wielding drug dealer. If my driver had a brake on his bike, he certainly didn´t feel happy about using it. His patience wasn´t too great either, overtaking on lind corners and undertaking as frequently as he could manage. At one point, a bus in front overtook a parked car. Surely my driver would just follow behind? Nope, he was determined to take advantage of the remaining 36 centimetres of concrete and overtake the bus as quickly as possible. We all arrived and living thankfully, and from here we took a stroll through the town. Immediately we saw a man who we were told was connected to the A.D.A. and worked as an ´eagle,´ a lookout if you will. He carried a firework, and at the first sign of police is to set it off to let the main men know. If this happened while our tour was on
we were to be immediately taken back to Ipanema. Police entering the favela normally means bloodshed. Luckily we didn´t, and we didn´t actually see any guns while we were there either, only a man carrying around several magazines filled with bullets, an ominous sight in itself. On the tour we visited several local shops selling whatever they could and also took a visit to the day care centre. The standard of living here is not great, but the feel of community and support for one another certainly is.
We headed back after the tour for a bit of doing nothing at the hostel. At night we took in some bargain local delicacy of Chorizo hot dogs and and headed to a local bar for a bit of darts and the football on the T.V. There probably isn´t much else we will do in Rio due to the fact it has eaten away at my budget and so we are heading off to Iguaçu falls tomorrow. Everything in the city has been an incredible experience however, ranging from the luxury felt at Ipanema, to the passion felt at the Maracana, to the shock and humbling effect of the Favela. A
truly awesome city.
Till next time, all the best.
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GrandDad Peter
non-member comment
Iguasu
Another good entry ! Apart from the helicopter trip over the falls, the best place to see them is from the Argentinian side. For me the most impressive thing in Iguassu was the continual queue of smugglers crossing the bridge from Paraguay riding pillion on tiny motor scooters, each with a computer or TV wrapped in a binliner on his back. Every person is allowed to bring free one item per trip for his personal use, so they don't break the law entering Brazil. But they then briobe the customs officials to avoid the high import taxes with which Brazil protects its nacent industry, and then sell them at high profit in Rio etc. These mules make ten or more trips per day. When I was in Paraguay in 2004, they had just gor rid of their mad dictator. There were graffiti saying "Under Stroessner we couldn't talk, under democracy we can't eat". If you do go into Paraguay, you'll benefit your budget - there's nothing to buy there. If you don't, you've missed nothing - except it's on the way to Bolivia !