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South America » Brazil » Rio de Janeiro » Rio de Janeiro
November 26th 2007
Published: December 7th 2007
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Well since this is my first entry, I´m going to set the bar relatively low, and try to work my standards up as the entries mount. To preface the commentary below, I´d like to take the time to mention that this is a recount of my trip that began on the last day of my visit to Rio and is still a work in progress, so unfortunately, the details of my adventure are not as fresh in my mind as I would normally prefer but on we go.....

Before delving into the trip specifics, I feel that is appropriate to describe my mindset prior to arriving in Rio. As you might expect, I was a bit apprehensive and anxious as I boarded the plane to Brazil simply because I was traveling to country I had never visited and what compounded my anxiety was the fact that I was travelling alone to a place where I knew absolutely no one. One of the few times butterflies were flying in my stomach. Moreover, Rio has the reputation of not only being one of the most beautiful places on Earth but also one of the most dangerous owing to the severe wealth distribution issues that result in abject poverty and deadly, ubquitous violence (averaging several murders a day...or so I´ve read).

However, I found within this paradoxical coexistence of violence and beauty a city offering one of the most intriguing urban environments that leaves those individuals fortunate enough to experience this remarkable city craving more and more of the myriad of sights, sounds, and cultural activities that the city so effortlessly exudes.

Day 1 - as previously mentioned, I arrived in Brazil a bit apprehensive due to the widespread accounts of crime related incidences (e.g. armed robbery, mugging, etc. etc.); however, I decided the best way to go ahead and “break the ice” would be to ride the bus into town rather than hail a taxi, which, according to various travel sites I’d read, were to be cautiously selected as there have been many occasions in which the driver deliberately chose the “scenic route” resulting in a fare that was double (or more) the normal price.

Once I obtained my luggage (one piece was massive since I was bringing down a body bag of clothes and shoes for the underpriveledged children) from baggage claim, I withdrew money from the ATM, which, oddly enough, requires a double swipe of the credit card (once before you enter in the pin and again after you have chosen the amount you’d like to withdraw), and inquired as to where I would need to catch the bus into town. So, I easily located the Information Desk and was informed that I would need to take one bus to the city center at which point I would need to exit the bus and board another bus to reach Santa Teresa. As I exited the building, taxi drivers began to haggle me, just as all the travel guides previewed. One after another after another. But I continued on towards the bus……

Not being from Rio or a Portuguese speaker, I was a bit concerned about where I would need to exit the first bus, but luckily enough, I happened to strike up a conversation with a lovely black woman, who actually lived in Santa Teresa. After showing her the address of the hostel, she told me that she’d tell the bus driver to tell me where to hop off the bus. It probably bears noting that before coming down, I thought my Spanish would help me communicate, at least to a degree, with the Cariocas (Rio residents), but I soon found out that was not the case...not even close. To the eye, Portuguese is somewhat decipherable, but from an aural perspective, they may have well been speaking Chinese (i.e. I couldn’t understand a damn thing). Anyways, I digress.

Thanks to Lidia, I was able to exit the bus at the correct bus stop after about a 15 minutes ride, and I was directed to another bus stop on an adjacent street (Nilo Paraliou…or something like that) to catch the 206 or 214 bus up to Rua Joaquim Murtinho. To get to the bus stop, I had to walk about a ½ mile to the stop, and as expected, every taxi driver wanted to give me a ride. Blond hair, blue eyed, I guess I really didn’t appear to be a local eventhough I was donning a “Don’t Hassle Me I’m Local” t-shirt (not really but I should have).

So, I located the next bus stop, boarded the bus, and once again, I had no clue when to exit, other than the hostel was on the left. As in the bus from the airport, a guy notified the bus driver of the address, and I was promptly deposited at the door of the hostel. So, I made it….no issues. Phew! Hurdle number one…….

First order of business while in Rio was to meet with a colleague of mine in the city center or El Centro, which is dissected by a street which goes by the name of Rio Branco. After a quick shower and shave, I was off to the city center…..on foot. Just like any other major city, there were plenty of people walking around the city, and slowly, I began to gradually let down my guard that had been set so high prior to flying down. The Centro is like many modern business districts, which are generally comprised of modernized, high rise structures and for the most part are the least visually appealing sections of a city.

After a delicious lunch of what…I can’t really tell you, I headed back to the hostel for nap in the outside, rooftop, pool side lounge. Since it was low season, there were only 6 people in the entire hostel, so falling asleep without any annoyances was not a problem and was exactly what I was looking for after the 9 1/2 hour flight down. I awoke about an hour later and decided to go for a run through Santa Teresa up towards the Tijuaca Forest, which is the largest urban rainforest in the world. Feeling refreshed with the gentle breeze blowing through the verdant, tropical foliage over-hanging the winding, cobble-stoned streets, I headed up through the neighborhood of Santa Teresa, following the Bonde train tracks up and up and up towards the rainforest.

If you didn’t already know, Santa Teresa is the bohemian neighborhood of Rio de Janeiro and served as base for many artists and painters during the ‘60’s and ‘70’s, and today the narrow winding streets etched into the side of a mountain are lined with small art boutiques and restaurants. So, I as I ran I passed by all the shops, food stands, the Bonde train, and the local residents heading home from work and school. I continued to climb and climb to a point in which the buildings began to fade and the dense rainforest began to consume all that fell beneath its canopy. I passed over the top of a small favela where the sound of drums and music echoed its way up the side of the mountain, and at this point, I had my first glimpse of the iconic statue of Christ, perched on the pinnacle of Corcovado over looking the magnificent city of Rio below.

The turn around of my run culminated at a vista or mirante called the Mirante da Dona Marta , which save for a few seconds, I had all to myself to sit transfixed on the sun setting behind the mountains rising in the west, its rays bathing the Christ, Sugarloaf, and the beaches of Botafogo, Copacabana, and Ipanema below. Absolutely surreal. One of those moments in which chill bumps erupt across your body because you’ve finally arrived at that destination you’ve dreamed about for so long. Truly a point in my life where time and space froze, even if for a brief instant.

First day in Rio......superb.

Day 2 - Friday was reserved for a climb I’d booked up Corcovado, but since the excursion didn’t start until 2 p.m., I decided I’d partially retrace my run from the day before, save for a detour through Santa Teresa to pick up some sunblock and a quick bite to eat. As before, I began to follow the Bonde tracks up through Santa Teresa and quickly busted a right down one of the cobbled stoned streets to find some sunblock. After winding through the streets and purchasing what I needed for the day, I ran across a small market with vendors selling all different kinds of produce and hot food. What I love about Brazil is that I have a difficult time identifying 80% of the local produce....I guess I like the unknown element of exploration. So I took this opportunity to sample a little bit of everything, and I found most of the fruit to be really tasty. I also tried out this concoction (looked like one of those personalized omelets served at hotels) composed of coconuts and cheese and found this to be scrumdiddlyumptious as well.

So, after replenishing my energy, I carried on with my march up to the base of Corcovado, which is probably about 7 miles. Along the way, I ran up next to another guy walking through Tijuaca in the same direction, and I decided to fire up a conversation. Thankfully, he spoke Spanish, and of all places, this ended up being my first encounter with a native Cuban. So being the American that I am, I initiated a political discussion which led to a discussion about volatile nature of Rio de Janeiro, the 3rd world, etc. etc. A good, stimulating conversation. During our walk, he also pointed out a type of tree with white leaves (you can’t miss them in Tijuaca) that were the exclusive source of food for the sloth, but much to my dismay, none were spotted. However, I did have my first up close encounter with a banana munching monkey, which was this little fellow that looked like a squirrel until you were able to see him up close. I think I need one for a pet. I’d call him Boggles in honor of my dear friend Mr. Thorndick.

Finally, after about 2 ½ hours of continuous uphill hiking (on pavement mind you), I reached the base of Corcovado, which was where I bid farewell to my “Cuban comrade.” Since I arrived early, I opted to continue past the Christ gateway and head into Tijuaca to find a good viewpoint and read. About a 1/2 mile in, I found a wall over looking the rainforest and the botanical gardens resting 1300 feet below. So after about 30 mintues, I decended back down to the entrance to Corcovado and awaited my climbing partner, Mr. Fred Moura.

Fred arrived promptly at 2 p.m., and we headed off to the base of the climb, which was approximately a 200 meter climb up the southwest face of the mountain. The climb was absolutely incredible and exceeded my expectations in every imaginable way: the views, the route, the exhilaration of hanging off a wall suspended 1500 feet above one of the most beautiful places on earth.

Three pitches later we arrived at the feet of Christ and to the scene of a tourist horde congregating the base of the statue. This was my first and probably last moment of “celebrity status” in Brazil. When we arrived at the viewing area, everyone wanted to take photos of us, and I gladly posed as a hard core climber, which I definitely am not…plus I didn’t possess the linguistical know-how of how to say I wasn’t. But I played along.

If you’re a climber, I’d highly recommend contacting Fred at www.climbinrio.com. The views alone are worth the 200 Reias….momentary celebrity status….free. Plus if you need some lovin', you can pick up a hooker at the top. I’ve been told that they frequently slither through all the tourists looking for some action, and based on some of the outfits I saw, I’m pretty sure some of them were definitely "working the crowd."

Once I was able to redirect my attention from the photo-op to the statue I immediately took notice of its enormity as it was much larger than I had anticipated. I think it was something around 30 meters high! The views from the top of Corcovado are absolutely mind-blowing. A 360 degree outlook over the city below and all the outer reaches of Rio. Furthermore, I was fortunate enough to be in Rio when the wind was blowing in from the ocean and the humidity was low, both of which create a crystal clear image of the City of God. Fred and I spent about 5 minutes admiring the view, and after taking it all in, we began our decent down to Paimeiras, the starting point of the final leg up to the Redeemer, with one of those delectable ham and cheese croissants and orange Fanta in hand…mmmmmm.

Tired and sleepy from the hike and climb, I caught a taxi down to the hostel for a much needed nap since I knew that night would be a long one…..

So after a nap and a shower, I met up with this French friend of mine and headed over to this section of town called São Cristobão (or something like that) where a Northwestern Brazil Fair is held every weekend. They have music, food, and all kinds of shops where you can purchase goods similar those types of goods found, as you might expect, in the northwestern region of Brazil. Personal opinion, waste of time. Maybe it is just that I’m not into the “fair atmosphere,” which was exactly how it felt, but it is not a spectacle I would recommend you witness….unless you have exhausted all other alternatives and simply want to check this one off the list. I was picturing a much more authentic experience, but what I saw was a bunch of restaurants catering to tourists, lots of different shops selling the same cheap, mass produced merchandise, and music that I personally didn’t care for. Synthetic is the word that comes to mind. So in my mind, this was the one and only mistake I made on the trip. At least I got it out of the way on the second day.

Moving on….we departed from what reminded me of an Alabama (the state where I grew up) turned Brazilian state fair (without a Gravitron or a Haunted House) and caught a taxi back to Lapa for a night out on the town. We met some of my Brazilian friends at a night club called Scenarium, which was an antique shop by day and a restaurant / club by night. Anyway, the place is really amazing and offers a really unique atmostphere. There are 3 different levels. On the bottom, there were live samba and rock bands, and the second floor has a dance floor with a DJ playing all types of MPB (Musica Popular Brasileira) and electronic music. I don't know what it is but for some reason while I was out in Rio, I always felt as if everyone was grooving to the music. Maybe it was just that there was music being played all over the city. It seems rhythm is just in their blood, and we ended up dancing from 10:30 p.m. to 3:30 a.m. Wow! But the time just flies by when you’re dancing the night away. Also worth mentioning is that when you enter a night club you’re handed a “drink card” or a personal “tab” to track how many beverages you’ve had throughout the night. So each time you go to the bar, the bartender will mark down what drink you’ve had, and there you have a running tally to monitor your consumption. At the end of the night, you take the card to the register and pay for both the drinks and the entry fee. Interesting.

Day 2....extraordinary.

Days 3 / 4 / 5 to follow................






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