And so it begins!!

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Day 1

So the 12th January finally arrived and after some last minute cramming of clothes into the backpack, my life for the next 14 months was sitting before me all zipped up. I successfully negotiated my way through the London rush hour to arrive at Heathrow in plenty of time and as I’d already checked in the day before, just had to drop my bag off…or so I thought! The lady at the desk not only informed me that my seat had changed…no big deal…but also that they couldn’t let me through as I had no visa for Brazil! Bugger! I explained that as I was not staying there for longer than 90 days I didn’t actually need one, but as my next flight wasn’t for 6 months ,from Chile, how could the Brazilian authorities take my word that I only wanted to visit for 6 weeks or so. I saw her point…I wasn’t best pleased about her point…but I saw it! She told me that if she lets me through and they don’t accept me, they (British Airways) would face a massive fine and I would be imprisoned until a flight home could be arranged. Now I am all up for seeing the culture of Brazil, just not from a 6ft by 3ft cell with a high risk of some incompliant bum bum action! She said she would let me through on the proviso I had a hotel booked in Colombia, which would ‘prove’ I planned to move on. Just a quick thank you to Claire for sorting that all out for me and apologies to Mum and Dad for finding out like this…there was a time where I thought my trip of a lifetime would start and end in London on the same day!

Anyway, after a slight delay I arrived in Rio about 23:30 (I’m 2 hours behind at the moment) and concerned I may be turned back, went through passport control without any questions asked at all - thanks very much BA!! The 30 minute white knuckle taxi ride made me appreciate the restraint and patients of taxi drivers in the UK, finally arriving at my hotel at 01:00. A quick bottle of ‘aqua’ and I passed out on the bed wondering what the next day would have in store for me.

Day 2

After a restless night I decided to head down to breakfast and sample the delights of a Brazilian breakfast. After a couple of slices of watermelon and some scrambled eggs with ham and cheese I was ready to face what Rio had to offer, and where better to start than Copacabana beach, a five minute walk away. It was only 09:15 but the heat was already searing - the thermometer on the front was already at 31 degrees, a stark contrast to the 0 degrees I had left behind. There were already a lot of people setting up camp for the day on the beach, whilst a keen amount of joggers were passing me on the promenade. Conscious of how beautiful the people of Rio are supposed to be and fresh in my mind the thought of the 2 curries, BK and McDonalds I had polished off in the week before I arrived, I was a little nervous to unleash the body on the sand. I needn’t have worried, not because my ‘perfectly crafted’ stomach was out of place but because there were a lot of people - men and women - in a far worse state. I walked the 4km beach there and back and I can honestly say I have never seen a range of body shapes and sizes in my life! Yes there are some stunning girls (and guys) here, but there are some real horrors too, insistent on wearing far less than they should!

The thermometer was now showing 35 degrees and after my first traditionally Brazilian lunch, consisting of rice, beans and a meat (I hope) kebab it was time to head back to the hotel to freshen up as I’d decided to take in the sights from Sugar Loaf mountain in the afternoon. It was a good 45 minute walk away which gave me the chance to see more of the area and after a couple of broken Essex-Portuguese directional conversations I was paying the 44 Reais to take two cable cars to the top of Sugar Loaf Mountain. A wonderful experience with superb views of Copacabana and the surrounding areas, although I have been told that the views from Christ the Redeemer are far superior (I’ll update you later) and the second tick in the box! By the time I got back to the hotel I was pretty tired - I reckon I walked a good 12km and was ready for an early night. I went to a restaurant where you pile food onto your plate, they weigh it and you pay per kilogram. I had a decent portion, as you’d imagine, of meat, rice and vegetables, all for little over £4.

I got back to the hotel, searched the net for some suitable accommodation, had a couple of conversations on Skype and then crashed. I had survived my first day in Rio…great success!

Day 3

After a similar breakfast I then had the thankless task of repacking my bag. All of a sudden I had too much and with the heat and humidity the last thing I wanted to do is play around with all my clothes. I have definitely brought too many and I am considering sending stuff back, which is supposed to be expensive, or donating it to whoever wants it. If the weather stays like this, I will need nothing else but some shorts, a few vests and my flip flops! A word to the wise, pack light!!

Anyhow, I checked out of the hotel and into a hostel a couple of blocks away. The room is basic to say the least, but I have a bed and a locker and getting into the bathroom has not been a problem…yet! My plan today was to take in the beach at Impanema, which is the next beach along from Copacabana and after a short stop in the Fort museum I was served up with similar sights as the day before. The views from both beaches are truly spectacular and is obvious why they are both so famous, however it really is just like being on any other crowded beach the world over. After a couple of hours of feeling my skin burn, I walked into Impanema itself for a wander, arriving back at the hostel about 16:30 where I had my first encounter with other ‘travellers’. The ice was broken after a German girl asked me to undo a bottle of coke for her…what a line…and then her friend joined in the conversation, their English considerably better than my German! I wanted to go for a beer but the bar in the hostel doesn’t open until 20:00 so I took myself out onto the street and sat in one of the many bars dotted around, taking in my new found hobbies of people watching and having silent conversations with myself. Its only been a few days but when you have nobody to talk to, it really is strange what runs through your head! I went back to the hostel to find my dorm had a few new residents and quickly got talking to an Australian guy Peter, his travelling partner Kirsty and an English girl Sam. Along with a Colombian girl, Edna, we hit it off straight away and decided to go and buy some beers for the evening, which were duly drunk, lots of laughs were had and many a story told, hitting the bed about 02:00. Was a good introduction to hostel life and gave me a lot of confidence that the trip would be just fine!

Day 4

After a slight lay in, I had breakfast and swapped contact details with Kirsty who is heading South and who I may catch up with next week. Edna then told me she was going into Rio central and asked if I’d like to go too. I had no reason to say no and with the weather being overcast and drizzly, thought it would be a good option, giving me a chance to see the more built up business areas with somebody who has a far better grasp on the language than the boy from Essex! Edna’s English is also very good and it has been interesting to hear somebody speak so passionately and proudly about her country and her home city of Bogota. She really tried to explain the history and the problems that Colombia has suffered, whilst also promoting it as a safe and enjoyable place to go and visit today. I honestly believe that a lot of what is written about the country is outdated and I am really looking forward to experiencing it for myself - I think it will be a real highlight.

We walked around the city for a good 3 hours and although not the most inspiring place, there were a few things that stood out, especially a church which from the outside looked like a Dalek from Dr. Who but inside took on a whole different perspective. Shaped like a pyramid, each side had a massive stained glass window, running up the middle to form a cross on the ceiling. Those that know me know I am not a religious person, but the place made me feel somewhat emotional - it was very strange, but at the same time very humbling - maybe I’m getting in touch with my inner self a bit sooner than expected…man!!

Before heading back to the hostel we grabbed some lunch in a rodizio, which basically means you sit down and the waiters continually bring around different types of food. Today was pasta day and we rode the metro home with a belly a lot fuller than when we went in!

Day 5

Today was the day I booked a favela (slum/shanty town) tour, something that is maybe ethically incorrect, in so much as I am paying money to witness others misfortune. Having said that, the favela folk are not supposed to mind ‘gringos’ being guided around and if some of the money goes into helping them in some way then maybe it’s not so bad after all. Along with a dozen or so other travellers from other hostels we arrived at favela Rocinha, which is supposed to be the largest in Latin America, homing some 200,000 people, a vast number when considering I was speaking to a guy from Belize, whose country is only home to 300,000! Anyway, we arrived at the foot of the favela to be met by a bunch of motorbike taxis who were to take us at the top. I’m not sure what my insurance company would have said (…I know what my parents would have said!) but the 7 minute no helmeted motorbike ride was…how should I put it…an experience! Overtaking on blind bends was perfectly normal as was talking to other motorbike riders whilst riding….me nervously hanging on behind my 16 year old driver! Another ‘experience’ to tick off!

When we were dropped at the top the first thing that struck me was not only the sheer size of the place but also in how developed it was. Obviously there is an extreme amount of poverty, that is obvious, but you could easily survive in a favela which is completely self sufficient - it has supermarkets, bars, smaller convenience shops - everything you need to survive. The tour itself was relatively interesting, not the most informative but more a visual representation at how life must be. The ‘houses’ are small and dingy and are bought or rented in much the same way our property market works back home, with the more expensive being closer to the amenities than the cheaper ones.

The drugs trade is key to favela life with cocaine and marijuana the main drugs sold, not only within the favela but the wider community too. I now understand why it so difficult to police, with the main drugs lord living at the top of the favela and look out points all the way up, the police are fighting a losing battle. Fireworks are let off if the police come and certain parts of the road get closed off, blocking their access. If they do make it to a certain point, gun battle are inevitable! We were told when and where we could take photos and that if a guy carrying a walkie talkie or a gun crossed our paths we were to put cameras away immediately - they are drug dealers and unsurprisingly to not want their photos plastered on sites like this! I didn’t take my camera anyway - it didn’t feel right - but when I walked past some guy holding a hand gun in each hand, I understood the seriousness of the environment pretty quickly! I don’t think they had ’replica’ written on them either!

All in all it was a very different experience to the one I had in Sri Lanka where I walked around a slum there with a local me and Bryan had met and were treated like minor celebrities with everyone wanting to shake our hand and talk to us. Here, it was more like we were the wrong side of the lions cage at a zoo with thousands of harmless little cubs running around…along with a few hundred fully developed lions with damn big teeth and little value on life!

Getting back to the hostel late in the afternoon gave me a chance to start writing this entry and catch up on the football scores. I was settled into the bar as normal, chatting away to people when the decision to go out was made. Now I wouldn’t usually have a problem with this, but looking at the clock it was already 01:00 on Sunday morning…this really wouldn’t happen back home! We were heading to a place called Lapa where on a Friday and Saturday night (in fact I’m guessing most nights) the bars in the area open up and one hell of a street party is formed. We went to a club with a Colombian theme and watched in awe at the amazing dancing being performed. Not being much of a dancer myself I was wondering how I can get onto the dance floor without making a total tit of myself, but the decision was taken out my hands when the Colombian girl from the hostel decided to take it upon herself to teach me some salsa. Her advice was to relax, enjoy the music and mover from the hips! Usually I would have little problem with this, hover a 6ft3 length of steel needed a bit more lubrication, either in the form of WD40...or preferably another Sol, the local brew…or both! Was a great night, had a lot of fun and a lot of laughs, finally getting into bed at around 06:30, perfectly normal for Rio…and what I’m hearing, South America.

Day 6

After a few hours of broken sleep I pulled myself out of the pit to grab some food and check some emails before being picked up at 15:00 to be taken to the Maracana to watch a game of football, something I’d always wanted to do since Dad gave me a video called the Boys from Brazil when I was about 6. The video showcased the Brazilian team from the 1950’s through to the 80’s and I remember watching it every weekend, appreciating the way Brazilians play ‘the beautiful game‘. The stadium holds around 100,000 people, although today’s attendance was estimated at between 20-25,000 and was played between Flamenco (who were the home team and far better supported) and Duque De Caxias in that state cup competition (the national league begins in April). Due to a delay in getting our tickets, we got into the ground with 20 minutes gone and Flamenco 1-0 down, which is how it stayed until half time. Although there were relatively few fans in the ground in comparison to its size, certain section certainly knew how to make a noise and within 5 minutes of the restart Flamenco had equalized. 2 minutes later and they were cheering again after a typically Brazilian goal was tapped home from close range, sending the fans mental. Its funny knowing how I behave at West Ham back home, compared to watching the supporters of a team I have no affinity with, but can completely understand how they are feeling - a passion linked to your club…football fans really are nuts the world over! The visitors drew level with about 10 minutes to go, however Flamenco went on to win the game in the dying seconds. A good game for the neutral, although the pace and quality were way behind that of the Premier League…though that may have something to do with the 35 degree heat!

Day 7

This was the day I’d been most looking forward to in Rio, the day I got to visit the Christ the Redeemer statue (or Christo to the locals) which is probably the image most synonymous to Rio de Janeiro. Up early as I wanted to beat the crowds, I was on the cog train with Ben and Vanessa, the English couple, which takes you to the top of the mountain where he stands. The views from the train were average in comparison to what was awaiting us at the top and I can honestly say I have never been so blown away by a view. Table Mountain in South Africa comes close, but from here you really got to see the sheer size and scale of Rio, from mountains in the distance, to the beaches, to the different fevelas, to the central part of town…it went on for miles and miles and am sure the photos don’t do it justice.

Standing at the foot of Christ and having the typical picture taken with my arms outstretched was something I will never forget, however it was the surrounding views that impressed me over the enormity of the statue of Jesus Christ…which is still seriously impressive! I could have spent much longer than the 2 hours we had spent there, but as the crowds grew we realized it was time to press on.

We made the most of the day, looking around town and finding the famous Lapa steps, created by one man with tiles from around the world. I don’t know how many steps there are or how long they go on for, but seeing them from the bottom was again a very impressive sight! From there we began walking up hill to Santa Theresa, a place I had heard of but not one I’d paid any attention to. The highlight to this was by far jumping onto the tram that runs through little mountain towns until it performs a 3 point turn at the top and comes down again. Holding on with both hands while balancing on a ledge 6 inches wide is probably not something I’d do back home, but it was certainly a more exhilarating, speedier and cooler way to see more of Rio than had been planned!

That night I went out for dinner with the English couple, a guy from Norway, a girl from Sweden and a guy from South Korea, who had me in stitches all night. For those of you who can relate to how the Chinese act whilst at uni, this guy was the classic stereotype…an all round lovely guy whose mannerisms and broken English made the night! Ask me about South Korean bitches being better when I get home!!

Went out again tonight - it was my last one in Rio - with the guy from Belize…at least that was where he was born and lived until he was 12, then moved to Swindon (of all places) for 14 years, before living the last 6 years in Sydney. A friendly and interesting guy called Torres who looked like a stereotypical traveller with long hair, tattoos and bangles, only to find out he has been working in investment banking for the last 15 years before being made redundant! Never judge a book by its cover! The night finished up around 03:30 and alas my first week in South America was complete…and a great time I am having too!

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