Last stop - Petrópolis

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Miriam does not provide breakfast, which is a pain. (On the plus side there is a reliable supply of hot water in the washbasin as well as the shower!) When I booked this there was a very limited choice of accommodation in Petrópolis either via Airbnb or booking.com. Sure, there must be lots that aren't signed up to the latter but how to make contact with them beforehand? Have come to this city because it's got a very attractive historic quarter, it was where the Emperor Dom Pedro II and his court spent the summer to get away from the heat of Rio and it's crammed with beautiful mansions built around the end of the 19th century. It's also quite near a national park, Serra das Orgãos, which I was hoping to at least see a little of.

It appears that I am in an area which is almost entirely residential, not a café to be seen. Miriam suggested I might like to get food in from the local grocer's but can't be bothered. I had a look at the kitchen area which is next to the pool - certainly won't be rustling up any bacon and eggs there! There is something that looks like a wood-burning Aga, if such a thing exists, and I have no idea how the hobs work - suspect you have to fire up the Aga to get them hot as well. This house is enormous - no wonder they're taking in paying guests. The swimming pool needs a clean. Hopefully it will get done in time for the swim I am planning tonight!

Decide to head for the historic centre. Walking past the Bohemia Brewery/ museum at about 8.45 I do a double-take on seeing a crowd of bikers with their bikes, wearing black leathers and Harley Davidson t-shirts, some carrying helmets. This particular mystery is subsequently solved at the Tourist Office when I ask what events are on - this Brazilian HD conference is the only one! Later the bikers keep cropping up all over the place. Have to say they look more at home in the brewery than they do in the cathedral or the Imperial Museum.

Find the Tourist Information Centre before I find a café. The staff member there appears to have a minimalist approach to giving information -I have to drag it out of her. However with prompting she does tell me which buses to catch to get to the Parque Nacional de Serra das Orgãos. After failing to find the café, which she had supposedly pointed out to me, I stop at a bar which I decide, after sampling the so called natural fruit juice I ordered, majors in alcoholic drinks even at this time in morning. Two doors along I find a more respectable looking delicatessen. I think I have ordered an espresso ( in my experience they do terrible things with milk and coffee here) and a croissant. The espresso is fine but instead of a croissant I get a dumpling which is shaped like a cross between a breast and a tower and stuffed with something which I am completely unable to identify. Fortunately it is edible - just!

I retrace my steps and find a museum to go into. It was the house of Santos Dumont, who was a famous Brazilian inventor, engineer and aviation pioneer. He is so famous that the city's main square was named after one of his early bi-planes which he had called '14 bis' - the English translation given on the road sign is Aeroplane Square! Fortunately they have had a wholesale change of street and square names and this square is now called Praça da Liberdade but the other name plate still stands. The street I'm on is supposedly now called Avenida Presidente Kennedy but everybody still calls it Rua Piabanha.

The woman in the Tourist Office had given me the address of an agency which organise tours to the National Park. I set off to find this, walking past the queue for entry to the Imperial Museum. It turns out to be in a shopping mall, or rather, it doesn't, according to the security guard who works there. So back to the Imperial Museum, where the queue is now much longer. As we get within sight of the ticket booth I notice that there are two queues and ask the woman in front why - she doesn't know so I ask somebody who is actually in the shorter second queue . Ha ha - it's for 'idosos', in other words people like me.. I successfully switch queues although don't get a discount - for Brazilians only. Unfortunately the queuing is not over. There is another one to get into the actual building and, would you believe it, I have to queue again to hand in my water bottle at the cloakroom. Had I known, I would have tipped it out. (Have discovered that water from this bottle is only drinkable for a couple of hours. After that, as a result of the heat, it starts to smell , and taste, like the smell of an air-conditioning system in a third rate hotel.)

After all that it is still necessary to fight to be near the exhibits so you can read the information about them. And you have to slide around in felt over-shoes which are provided to protect the wooden floors. it's all too exhausting unless you have a passion for the various Emperors and 19th century furniture and furnishings.. I do, though, like the elaborate cradles of the royal progeny which are suspended so that they rock and have silk tassels hanging above them - early cot mobiles?

One more museum and then I reckon I can call it a day. This is the Casa da Ipiranga which was built in 1884 and is supposed to be worth seeing for its luxurious furnishings and its garden, apparently. I manage to walk past it the first time because there is a very lively and attractive restaurant to one side and a big sign up saying, 'Wines of Bordeaux' so I decide it's some sort of events venue or shop. When I climb the stairs to the main building the door is locked and there is a Brazilian couple trying to find out why it isn't open - it says 1pm on the tourist information brochure and it's now 2.30 p.m - by using their phones. I decide to do it the easy way by asking one of the security guards at the restaurant. He says that it should be open, as the correct opening time is 2 pm, and disappears round the back of the building. About five minutes later the owner of the house appears so my old-fashioned approach appears to have done the trick! The current owner is the great grandson of the man who built this house. When he discovers that I am English he is all over me and I think would have done the guided tour in English if more Brazilians hadn't arrived. He actually asked the couple who arrived before me if they spoke English! I said I preferred Portuguese so, consequently, didn't understand about half of what he said but then I understood even less of his English! He proudly informs me that his great grandfather went to Eton and later on that his uncle was one of the very few Brazilians to be knighted by the Queen. I squirm as he addresses most of his spiel to me, ignoring the others - - particularly embarrassing when I have to try and look as if I understand what he is saying. The upstairs was really dilapidated, the downstairs rooms were in a better state but the style was Victorian of the most over-elaborate kind: hideous painted wallpaper, dark walls, dark brocade curtains, the works, all of which I absolutely loathe!

Had a quick dip in the swimming pool but it was in no better state than this morning. I wonder whether she expects the guests to clean it. Must ask her the story of this house - my guess is that it was a family house , now far too big, which they are reluctant to sell. Perhaps she has fallen on hard time - no sign of a husband around although I was introduced to her two grownup children.

Finally got to eat at the 'choperie' one block away from my lodgings, the place that was closed yesterday for the holiday. This word means 'a place that serves lots of beer'. I can vouch for that - they have a huge range which is of course totally wasted on me. There is a strong German influence here - the bus station I arrived at last night was at a place called Bingen and there is also a place called Mosel nearby. It was so crowded and noisy in the 'choperie' that I could hardly hear myself think but there is nowhere else around here to eat - perhaps that's why it was so busy. Took one look at the menu, confirmed with the waiter that all the main dishes were for two people and asked him what I was supposed to eat, not in those words exactly, but he got the gist. He offered me the basic 'prato do dia', which LP mentions, and which I had forgotten to ask about. It's never advertised and basically it's some sort of meat, fried I think, with chips, rice, salad and black beans which come swimming in a sort of soup in their own little pot. I was told before I came to try this because it's very typically Brazilian. Ate everything except the beans - have now discovered that it is not only Sheila who puts industrial quantities of garlic in with the black beans - the recipe clearly demands it.

After another small draught beer staggered home to find that Miriam has organised a taxi to get me to the airport on Sunday afternoon. This after she had wanted me to phone, or at least place the call, to a range of other taxi companies, which I did using Viber but none answered. Made it clear that I do not do telephone calls in Portuguese. Because I have written lots of messages to her in Portuguese she insists on talking to me at great speed and expects me to understand. On the other hand she put a lot of (wasted) effort into trying to get me to pronounce 'Orgãos' correctly. She also clarified the instructions of the minimalist lady from the Tourist Office on how to get to the National Park, so I am all set for tomorrow - I think!

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Photos

Praça de Liberdade, Petrópolis
Aeroplane Square, if you prefer!

Stairs designed by Santos Dumont,, Museu Casa de Santos Dumont, Petrópolis
Very difficult stairs to walk up but you won't bang your shins!

Casa da Ipiranga
Ornate furnishings you either love or hate!