Advertisement
Published: August 24th 2006
Edit Blog Post
Crazy cobblestones
The cobblestones which line the streets of Paraty, and trip up many a tourist, were brought over from Portugal in exchange for Brazilian gold. To escape Rio de Janeiro, I traveled 4 hours south to a little colonial town called Paraty ("Pah rah chee") whose main attraction was its small size and lack of crime. I was fed up with feeling like a hostage in Rio, not being able to go anywhere by myself and feeling always on edge because of the very real possibility of violence at any moment. Paraty was the perfect antidote.
When I arrived there, I decided that what I most wanted to do was to practice my new kayaking skills that I had learned in my kayaking class last month. Though everyone told me that the bay was smooth as glass and I could go out by myself, I wanted a guide and I was told that the nameless Big Bearded Man was my only option. The next morning, I set off to find the BBM with a rudimentary map drawn by my hostel owner.
I quickly figured out that the map had nothing to do with what the town actually looked like, and instead of the quick walk I expected to be taking, I was hiking up and down hills in the considerable noonday sun. I had
Paraty
The streets of Paraty are designed to flood every day with the high tide, which cleans them but makes walking a little tough. to ask many people along the way in my rudimentary Portuguese where I was going, and each person got me a little closer to the BBM. When I finally found the beach where The Big Bearded Man was supposed to be, people there said I´d have to look for him at his house. Amazingly, though no one knew his name, they all knew the BBM. They gave me directions to his house, which landed me at an abandoned construction site. I saw a little old woman with a neck brace walking nearby, and figured that it was impossible that she knew about kayaking, but of course she too knew of the Big Bearded Man and actually walked me to his house. The Big Bearded Man of course was not home, and I didn´t end up meeting him until two days later when I finally contracted his services through a travel agency.
When I finally met him, I was dying to tell him the story of my tromping through town trying to find him and everyone knowing him as the Big Bearded Man. Unfortunately, I never got to tell him the story, as he spent much of the five hours
complaining about his weight and how difficult it was to be fat in Brazil since everyone is so focused on the perfect body here. This, by the way, is true. In Rio, so many women have breast implants and you get used to seeing model skinny bodies with gigantic breasts that don´t move when they lay down to sunbathe. In any case, I didn´t think Nick the Big Bearded Man would appreciate my story, so I never got to tell it. He was quite a character, a Dutch man who grew up in Angola and Brazil and married a Brazilian woman whose claim to fame is that she can drink 10 beers (40 ounces each) at a time. I didn´t see her in action or meet her at all, but I did hear about how she too had lost her figure due to her love of beer. Luckily, I managed to enjoy the five hour trip despite Nick´s anguish over his weight and his way too small speedo (so wrong). We toured the ruins of a sugar plantation and did some jungle treking where we saw a snake which is known for its aggressive nature and the fact that it
Paraty Cemetary
The cemetary in Paraty sat at the top of a hill which I climbed on the way to find the Big Bearded Man. Each plot was a cement rectangle, within which flowers were planted or plastic flowers were placed. will chase humans and other snakes. Nick, who had spent many years in the jungle and was warning me extensively about snakes on the path, was really shaken by that particular sighting. What freaked me out is that the path we were on is the one taken by all the local schoolchildren on their way to the boat which acts as a school bus and takes them to a regional school. Before the boat, children who lived there simply didn´t go to school because there was no way for them to get there, so now that it makes the stop and is free to them, there is a big improvement in literacy for the new generation.
My other big Paraty adventure was an unexpected jungle trek in Trinidad, about a half an hour away. Though I had gone to enjoy their famous beaches, the day was chilly so that option was out. I had heard that there was a natural pool that you could hike to, and there was an Argentinian on my bus who was interested in seeing it as well. We set off together, and my first clue that I had to worry was that when I
asked him if he had any bug spray, he told me authoritatively that mosquitoes only come out at night and I had nothing to worry about bug-wise. Now, for anyone who has ever hiked through the jungle, you know that mosquitoes are one of many bugs that will bite you at any hour they feel like eating. In addition to knowing all about bugs in the jungle, this city boy lawyer from Buenos Aires informed me that it was fine to walk barefoot (see the picture of our path) and I had nothing to worry about in terms of snakes. I quickly realized that he had NO idea what he was talking about and though he had confidence to spare, his jungle experience was lacking.
The path was quite slippery from the recent rain and many times we were walking with a sharp drop off to our left, a cliff down to the ocean with rocks below and jungle rising to the right. I slipped and slided but luckily stayed on the path and carefully used branches to steady myself, but only after I had made sure they were safe to grab. I tried to suggest that my Argentinian
Kayaking Cora
When I finally found the Big Bearded Man, it was worth it. Sure beats kayaking on the Charles River! friend do the same, but of course he would have none of that and eventually grabbed hold of a tree that had vicious spikes coming out of in and ended up getting punctured by two of them. His hip began to hurt and so we slowed down even further, and I waited for him every 50 feet or so. We finally made it to the pool, where we had been told that there would be a boat we could go back in, which seemed like a good option since it was close to getting dark and he was limping along slowly.
The driver of the boat never did appear and though the lawyer wanted to keep waiting, I had no intention of waiting for him to limp out through the jungle in the dark, so I finally convinced him that hiking out was the way to go. I suggested that we hike out as quickly as possible and that he go first and I follow since he was slower and this way we could go at his pace. HUGE mistake. (The joke "How do Argentinian men commit suicide? They jump off their egos" may be wrong, but it is
Ruins of the Sugar Mill
Sugar plantations and the slaves who worked on them powered Brazil´s economy before coffee. This is the wheel which ran the sugar mill, which produced cachaza, molasses an brown sugar. certainly based in fact.) He was then so offended that he limped quickly ahead of me and said if he was slowing me down, I could just leave him and didn´t need to worry myself about him. Good grief. I thought snakes and tarantulas were my big worry, but it turned out to be the male ego! It all turned out fine and we even had dinner together that night. It turns out that away from a physically challenging situation, he was great, well read and interesting, but did have his ego damaged by our little hike.
So now I´m back in Rio (update about and photos of Rio may have to wait until I´m home) and flying home this afternoon. It´s been a fabulous four weeks, but for a change I actually feel ready to go home. I´m excited about my new first graders and being able to eat salad again without worries about tropical illnesses. I think if I were still in Argentina, I´d have a harder time packing my things, but in Rio, it´s not too hard to strap on my backpack.
See you soon,
Cora
Advertisement
Tot: 0.153s; Tpl: 0.013s; cc: 12; qc: 48; dbt: 0.1001s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
Rebecca
non-member comment
BBM Picture?
So did you get a picture of him? It's killing me!