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Published: December 18th 2009
Our Oven at Casa6Ipanema
It was a little bit pathetic Rose Colored Lenses
I wanted to like Rio, but I was predisposed not to. I was one of those Americans who really wanted Chicago to get the Olympics. We were in Tokyo when the decision came down, which was icing on the cake, knowing we even lost to Tokyo. I will say, particularly with how long it took us to get to Rio from Santiago that I was looking at Rio a little askew. I was not sure what the opposite of rose colored lenses was, but whatever color those lenses are, that was my colored view of Rio. First, we needed money when we arrived at the airport and we had trouble finding an ATM. But, we asked for help at the Rio tourist information desk and the girl who helped us was bright, cheerful, and friendly. She explained which airport bus to take to get to the beach. We waited for the right bus and crowded to the front of the line when it arrived. The bus only comes once every thirty minutes, and I did not want to wait for the next one. The guy who boarded in front of us got the last available
Eric in the Dog House
Behind bars, that's where I like to keep him. Its for his own safety, really. seat. Eric and I crowded down the narrow aisles of the charter bus to the back end. We put our bags on the floor and sat down for the close to two hour ride into the city. So far, my view of the city was of the back of Eric’s head. This was not a pleasant experience. Once my rear became numb I stood for awhile and saw a different view. Rio was filthy. I don’t think it was a comparison of Rio versus crystal clean Chicago, it was just filthy. I remembered my broken windows theory and hoped that the beach area was cleaner, or I would be afraid to leave the house. What was the IOC thinking? Obviously this is not the route they took from the airport. Would the visitors in 2016?
After another hour plus we finally arrived in the popular beach area Copacabana. The route the bus took was not along the beach, but down one of the main roads running parallel to the beach. So, I still had not really seen the good stuff yet. My gut clenched as we arrived at our destination: Ipanema Beach. My first reaction was that it was
a nice beach, but I was not really paying attention and immediately I was looking around me to see which person on the street would mug us first. We briskly walked three blocks north of the beach to find our hostel for our first night.
Casa6Ipanema was the least expensive hostel I could find in the area, and at $80 a night the most expensive hostel we had booked thus far on the trip. The girl at the front showed us up the stairs to a tiny little room just at the top. I knew the room was supposed to be either two twin beds or two bunk beds, and bunks it was. That was not all. It felt like a closet that they used to try to squeeze out one additional room. The windows were frosted and faced the stairs, so we knew every time someone went up or down the stairs the automatic light would go on. There was no air conditioning, just one fan at the food of each bunk bed. Here was the kicker - there was no real door. We had metal bars that slid shut, like in a prison. For “privacy” a sarong
Construction Outside the Apartment
Getting ready for the olympics with a new metro stop with the Brazil flag hung from the ceiling. Hmm. Now, the closet felt like a jail. She offered us a door with a room, but it would have cost a lot more, closer to $100 a night. We were only there one night so we figured we would suck it up. We went to grab some dinner and went for a walk on the beach for a bit. I was starting to feel a bit better about Rio, at least for the moment, enjoying our walk down the busy beach - complete with beach side bars, vendors, and musicians. We also hit the ATM on the way back and we were more alert and cautious than in any other city. We found an HSBC that had virtually no lights on, so Eric went to the ATM while I stood behind him and stood guard. We tried to walk quickly back to the hostel without getting mugged. We returned to prison surprisingly exhausted rather early and tried to go to sleep. By morning our closet/prison became a true oven. With no ventilation, the fans did nothing, especially when I was sleeping 6 inches from the ceiling. I was ready to vacate
The Exploded Stove
This was AFTER we cleaned up. immediately, but we had some time to kill. Breakfast was included, but was awful. So far, overall, Rio did not impress me enough. Obviously the IOC did not stay at a hostel when visiting.
A (Un)healthy Dose of Reality
Saturday morning we met our friend from Chicago, Angie. She came to Rio for the week for a well needed vacation and an interest in some warm beach weather as Chicago was bracing for a cold Thanksgiving. Because there were three of us we thought it would be economical to rent an apartment for the week. Lonely Planet listed several companies. We chose one, Rio Apartments, and rented a two bedroom two bath apartment with a balcony overlooking Praca General Osorio, which was only two blocks from the famous Ipanema Beach, close to Post 8. It was a perfect location close to restaurants and a super market. We were excited.
First, the apartment was not ready when we were scheduled to check in. The cleaning person was still doing her work when we arrived. And, she did not have the electricity key so we sat there and sweated for the first 45 minutes of Angie’s vacation.
I won’t go into excruciating detail about how disappointed we were in the apartment, but the highlights were the lack of cleanliness, a broken toilet in Angie’s bathroom, a demolition and remodeling project in the apartment directly below us and a new metro station being built outside the front windows. For us, there was disappointment, but I felt bad for Angie. This was her one week vacation and we were in this situation that did not really ooze calm and tranquility. To top it all off, we used the stove twice. The first time, I used it to make my black beans and rice. The following day, Angie tried making a frittata. After it was done and we were sitting in the living room eating, we heard an explosion. The gas stove top had a glass top to it, which shattered into a million pieces all over the kitchen. As Angie and Eric cleaned it up, I called Rio Apartments. They were less than helpful and wanted to charge us for the stove out of our $300 damage deposit. I was fuming. Angie did some internet research and found a bunch of reviews on the GE stove - 9 of
the 10 talked about exploding glass. When forwarded to Rio Apartments, they eventually said we would receive our damage deposit back. I still wanted to talk with a manager about our issues, and they ignored me completely over the last few days of the rental. Angie noted that it was a bit too much reality for a vacation. That, plus, she got sick during the week with a wicked sore throat. I felt bad, but we tried our best to still give her some fun during her week in Rio.
Ipanema
We settled into a bit of routine involving a rotating schedule of breakfast at the apartment, hours spent on the beach, dinner out on the town. It is a tough life to live. I enjoyed the set up they had at the beach. Individual vendors under large tents on the beach rented out chairs and umbrellas, sold beer, and offered cold showers. It made things really easy. Our first time on the beach, Saturday afternoon, we just laid down our towels and sweated our way through some sun. On Sunday, we made the most of it with an umbrella and some chairs. The beach was
packed on Sunday. The waves were harsh and there were thousands of people crowded around on the beach and body surfing into the waves - despite the sign saying “No Swimming”. We all had a bit too much sun and skipped the beach the following day to recuperate. Too much non-native skin getting hit with the hot Rio sun. After that, we really settled into the routine, which was nice during the week days. The beach was much less crowded. We found a good bathroom in the Cultural Center across the street. We found cheap beach eats. We drank beers from koozies. It was the first time we had been on a real beach since Vietnam and we totally soaked it in.
Still on Guard
But, I always was on guard. Every time we went to the ATM we marched straight back to the apartment so we were not carrying anything with us. I have very few pictures of Rio because I did not want to carry a camera around with us. As for the beach, we did not have a beach bag anymore, it was lost in Vietnam. So, Eric and I used plastic shopping
Christ the Redemer
It was a little freaky that there was an eerie shadow behind Christ in this photo. bags from the grocery store for beach bags. We brought sun lotion, hats, books, towels, and sarongs, with the equivalent of about $20 in our two bags, so there would be nothing to tempt someone to steal. I have not carried a purse or handbag this entire trip, but even if I did, I would not have carried it in Rio. Most of the restaurants even have Velcro or snap loops on the chairs or tables for you to attach any bags you have so they do not walk away.
Also, after being able to competently make our way around Argentina and Chile with even my limited Spanish knowledge - a nice change after many months in Asia - Portuguese is a tough language and English does not seem to be spoken often. I hoped to run into some people who would at least speak Spanish, to no avail. The language has some similarities to Spanish, but has a much harder pronunciation - almost like a combo of Spanish, French, and some made up language. I was very out of sorts not being able to read menus or communicate. When I did try, Spanish just flowed from my mouth
and people would look at us strange. It did not make me feel any safer in the city, having a complete lack of communication. I am not sure why it bothered me more in Brazil than in any of the Asia countries we went to.
Touchdown Jesus
The one thing outside of the beach that was on my must see list in Brazil was the statute of Christ the Redeemer, aka Cristo Redentor, or as Eric and I referred to it - Touchdown Jesus. The giant statute sits atop Corcovado a mountain with vistas over the entire city. We took a public bus, which took us on a lengthy tour of the entire city, which after over an hour dropped us off at the base of the mountain. From there we purchased two tickets to take a cog train to the top. It is a sight that is best seen on a clear day. We left the apartment with clear skies, but by the time we exited the train on the top of the hill, the clouds set in. We were pretty disappointed until we realized we were so high up that we were in the
My ¨Famous¨ Black Beans
Before the stove exploded clouds, which were moving pretty quick over the mountain. The statue itself is 38 meters high and was built to bless the city of Rio. It was pretty amazing and almost mystical with the clouds cutting across Jesus’ face with the sun glaring through the clouds behind him. The view was also amazing over all of the beaches and the entire city. We did not spent all that much time up there before taking a public bus back to the apartment. Of course, we took the wrong bus, ended up in a neighborhood at least 20 blocks from our apartment. We walked about 20 minutes until we found another bus to drop us off close to home. All told it was a very long day dedicated to only one stop of the tourist track. We spent about 45 minutes on top of the mountain, but spent five hours of our day doing it. It was totally worth it.
Brazilian Cozinha
After Chile we were excited for some better food, with less mayonnaise. I also initially assumed that the entire continent ate tons of beans and rice, but turns out that I was misinformed. I wanted to
eat beans and rice with every meal. Although I did not succeed in that one, I managed to do okay. For our first meal, we walked around a bit and ended up at an open aired restaurant for some meat platters. My initial menu search came up empty for just beans and rice. I was pretty disappointed. The meats on the menu had two prices, one for one person, and one labeled “traditional” and intended to be shared in a group. I ended up with a giant fried chicken breast with fried potatoes, white asparagus, hearts of palm, peas, and a fried banana. The portion was huge. I tried to confirm it was just for one person and he agreed, but it was an amazing amount of food. I ended up, with Eric’s help, almost finishing it. That’s what happens when you spend 12 hours traveling with very little food. As we ate I saw the table next to us order traditional style and they had black beans and rice. No fair. During our second trip to the restaurant, we had Angie with us. With three people we ordered a mixed grill of meat, fries, rice, and more. I ordered
Sushi Thanksgiving
Nothing says Thanksgiving like raw fish and wasabi black bean soup, wondering if it was what I saw at the table next to us during the prior visit. Although the soup was totally tasty, it was not black beans and rice. It was not until the third and final visit that I was finally able to spot beans on the menu - it was not translated to English, but I was able to figure it out. It should not be this difficult.
Feijoada is Brazil’s national dish. It is a black bean and meat based stew with some great cuts of meat alongside some of the nasty bits. It is a common Sunday dish because it takes so long to cook. We ate our feijoada completa on our first Sunday in Brazil. It came with a small lime drink, rice, black beans, fried pork rinds, fried yucca, green kale cooked in a bitter relish, sliced oranges, and fried manioc flour. We strayed from the nasty bits because we were full after finishing the better cuts. Also, although I tried it several times, manioc flour was not a hit with any of us. It is exactly what it sounds like. It is a particular kind of flour, and
it is deep fried. That is it. Some people like to sprinkle it on their food and others I think eat it plain. It is very dry. Just not our cup of tea. But, the feijoada was a huge meal, tasted fantastic, and with a beer made all of us go back to the apartment after our late lunch and nap. That night we ate next to nothing for dinner and could not even make it out of the apartment. It was much like our Sundays back in the US.
During the week I even made black beans and rice in the apartment, before the stove top exploded. I think my recipe is a little more Cuban inspired than Brazilian, but it came out pretty darn good considering I did not have all of my usual ingredients. By the end of my week in Rio I had gotten my healthy dose of black beans and rice, but I was in no way satisfied. We also chowed down on tiny empanadas that were shaped more like muffins and mini calzone snacks filled with seasoned chicken or with hot dogs, peppers, and onions. We ate cheeseburgers on the beach along with icy cold Antarctica beer. We also became fans of the local lime flavored drinks, even learning to make them at the apartment. Cachaca is sugar cane liquor used in Brazil’s national drink, the caipirinha. The drink includes nothing more than the liquor, crushed lime, sugar, and ice. I think it is highly potent. Eric was not a fan of the cachaca and more preferred the caipirosca, which substituted vodka for the local liquor.
Typical Thanksgiving Fare
This is only our second Thanksgiving outside of the US. For the first we had Indonesian Riistafel in Amsterdam a few years ago. Although a small part of us were wishing for Mom Hoffman’s turkey and all the fixings, we made up for it by spending the day on the beach drinking beers. For dinner, we went to a Brazilian steakhouse for a traditional churasccuria. We were sat at a table near the door and offered three round cardboard disks - one each with red on one side and green on the other. Men walking around with spears of various cuts of meat would stop at your table if someone had their disk on the green side. Having been to Brazilian steakhouses in Chicago we were a bit surprised that even when all of our disks showed red they still came by with giant hunks of meat. I was not that bothered by it. Dinner did not last long with all of the meat forced on us on top of the salad bar - and selection of sushi. Sushi and unlimited amounts of meat - nothing says Thanksgiving better.
Leaving Rio
Our last morning in Rio, we left for the domestic airport pretty early. We went to the taxi stand on the corner. There was one man and one taxi, but he was trying to explain to us that he was already called. A gentleman walking his dog approached us and actually spoke English and tried to help us. He asked where we were going, hailed a taxi for us, and told the driver where we were headed. It was amazing. At the domestic airport we checked in with Azul air, a low cost carrier affiliated with Jet Blue. First, we were stunned there was no charge to check the bags and no limit on the weight. We were flabbergasted. We were also stunned that there was not a single ATM machine in the airport. The airport itself was either new or recently renovated and appeared pretty modern, but no ATM. We approached security and they used a scanner to read a bar code on our boarding passes. It was the first time we saw that, and was pretty impressed, for a few minutes. After getting through security we sat down for a couple of espressos, Eric said “I have your boarding pass.” I looked at mine and saw my name and thought, what are you talking about. Not only did Azul give two Amber Hoffman boarding passes, but security did not pick it up. You would think it would scan one document and then realize when it scanned the second one that it was a repeat, like at a baseball game. Suddenly, I felt not too secure with the modern security. It seemed all pomp. Eric explained the situation to a gate agent and he said no problem. Well, there was your “discount.” I guess we paid less to experience the lax security. Azul did serve free drinks, peanuts, potato chips, and a wet wipe. Even with the mess up, I was still impressed with the service, with the exception of their communications.
Azul was the first airline we have flown during this trip where the announcements were not made in English. I do not expect everyone to bow down to Americans. But, they speak Portuguese in Brazil, it is not an easy language to learn and it is not commonly spoken outside of the countries that use it. It was not even like an Air France or Iberia Air flight where they speak more common languages, like French and Spanish. Even in China the domestic flight had announcements in English. With Azul, we just tried to guess what the announcements said. It was fun because we had no idea how long our flight was even supposed to be. It just was weird. I felt relieved when we finally arrived in Salvador, but there was a one hour time difference. It took us awhile to figure that out because we did not pay attention to how long the flight was, and again, could not understand the announcements.
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cheryll mell
non-member comment
Glad to hear from you guys....it has been awhile. I was almost going to email and see if you guys were ok. Wow, the exploding stove!!!! Got you didn't have to pay. The jail room was too funny. I love drinking the the brazilian drink. Cheryll working with LInda showing her the pics.