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South America » Brazil » Rio de Janeiro
December 2nd 2005
Published: December 3rd 2005
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After leaving Paraguay, where you´d be hard-pushed to find a tourist anywhere, I then crossed on foot the noisy, bustling friendship bridge at the border and over to Brazil; the total opposite of its neighbour. Different language, different culture, marauding gangs of picture-hungry tourists and a much more expensive day-to-day cost of travelling than other Latin American countries. The first difference that gave me cause for concern was the language difference, I had heard from others that it would be OK to understand because of its similarities with Spanish... Then I heard them speak this Brazilian version of Portuguese. I thought it sounded like an unromantic, ugly version of some vile concoction of German, Hebrew and Spanish, after eight double whiskys. And the strangest thing is, I can understand one person speaking Portuguese almost perfectly, but then the next person totally incomprehensible because of the strange pronounciation, I can´t tell if some people are Brazilian or Israeli? So here we are, Brazil, my eleventh country in the last six and a half months... So what´s it all about?

Foz Do Iguazu
This is a well-known city on the borders on Brazil, Paraguay and Argentina. I stayed for a few days at a place called Pousada Do Laura, whic was owned, not surprisingly, by a lady called Laura. Now, Laura was about 60 years old, quite short and tubby, she spoke what I think was Portuguese, Spanish, German and a dash of English (at the same time & in the same sentence), she had cropped purple hair, she always had a smile on her face and funnily or tragically she was fluent in the ways of alcoholism, or if she wasn´t an alcoholic then I am the president of Zimbabwe. But what a character! You have just got to stay there! This woman had bags of energy and a crazy-high pitched, ecstatic voice and wicked laugh, which was most troublesome when she was talking to herself or the much-maligned cat late into the warm night. The truth is, I quite liked the old girl (I have a soft spot for eccentrics and drunks), she took good care of me; when I was in the hammock she fussed around getting me pillows, making me comfortable and rocking the hammock with extreme gentleness as I read a wonderful Charles Dickens book under the Brazilian starry sky. She offered me strong whisky and cokes
Foz Do IguazuFoz Do IguazuFoz Do Iguazu

Part of the mighty falls from the Brazilian side...
with a dash of ice to combat the heat which, in the end, I had to refuse because I didn´t want to go down the same road of alcohol-fuelled reliance. I think she was just a motherly figure who really enjoyed looking after us travellers - well, the males anyway. A German girl called Tina told me that the morning I arrived, Laura had actually had long brown hair and just decided to shave it to the bone and dye what was left purple. That could be madness or genius in my eyes: it is a fine line. Happy days. The next day me and Tina went to visit the Foz Do Iguazu falls nearby...

This is a vast and gorgeous set of staggered waterfalls that adjoin the borders of Brazil and Argentina. It is possible to visit either side in one day, take boat trips into the falls, walk muddy trails, see the wildlife, bungee jump or simply view the terrific awe-inspiring panoramas from various lookouts (which is what I did - I have not the want, desire or need to attach myself to a bungee rope and risk my life, so I didn´t, even if it does
The surfers...The surfers...The surfers...

This is most of the group who went surfing (minus the Aussies who were getting leathered at the beach bar, regardless of having paid for the surfing, but they get my vote... at least it was easier)
make a good story when you're in the pub or having a cup of tea in work). I have to say I was wildly impressed with these waterfalls, more so than the falls I saw in Venezuela all those months ago; the sheer volume of water that crashes through them is staggeringly impressive. From the Brazilian side, which I visited, you walk through a forest trail, stopping at various panoramic lookouts and finally come to a place where you can walk out on a platform right into the falls and get soaked to the skin (like a summer´s day in Wales). It´s magic. You should've been there.

I´d also wanted to visit the Itapúi dam nearby, apparently the world´s largest dam - or something like that, but upon arriving there the by-the-book staff told me there were only two showings per day (as if it was a movie or something!)and the next one was four hours later! So I said (to myself) f**k that, I´m off. And I flounced out and went on my skulking way like a sulking child , defeated by apathy and the rules of the house once more. This was the first show of true
Copacabana beachCopacabana beachCopacabana beach

Relaxing with a coco gelado (Cold coconut)...
petulance from me since I was substituted in a reserves game when I was 17 for Port Tennant Colts... Around 1995 as I remember. Anyway, not to digress so far from the subject at hand.

After leaving Foz, I stopped for the night in Curitiba after 12 hours on another bus... But there isn´t much there. I remember little, expect for a guy smoking crack in full-view of the public in a central plaza. Then it was onto Rio De Janiero...

Rio De Janeiro
Upon arriving into the bus terminal at Rio, I commandeered a taxi to my hostel and was greeted by overcast skies and heavy,driving rain into the windscreen of my ride into Copacabana. I thought to myself is this it? Is this what it´s all about? Just my luck again?

My first port of call for my tired body was the Shenkin Hostel, a few minutes walk from Copacabana beach. My first impression of it, and this is always important, was negative to say the least. The very pretty girl on the front desk was as miserable as sin and with the personality of a recently-widowed cockroach. It turned out to be a dull
These are made of sand!These are made of sand!These are made of sand!

One of my more favourite works of art from sand at Copacabana beach, Rio De Janeiro.
hostel anyhow with little going-on and little to look forward to, except leaving, and I was relieved to leave there after two days. Why I stayed that long is anyone´s guess. Though some of the guests were interesting people and a good laugh. On the second day there I went to a late-night beach party, with a few people from the hostel, on Copacabana and in reality, as anyone who was there would tell you... It was crap.

Then I moved into the Mellow Yellow hostel, even closer to Copacabana beach. This hostel is fanatastic - probably the best I have ever stayed in. (To any backpackers reading this: go there and consider no others! Trust me on this one or suffer the consequences) It had eveything, free internet, jacuzzi, barbecues, chillout room, guest-kitchen, TV room, a great bar, great staff, food, good dorms (if a little cramped) and a wild-haired owner who looks like he´s eaten one too many space-cakes in his time on planet earth. Although it is one of those hostels that has everything (which I have happily denigrated in the past), this one actually encourages you to leave the place during the day with lots of day trips, night trips, surfing, beach football, football matches, favela tours etc etc etc. It really is a credit to itself and gets people from all over staying there, including Brazilians. I even met a guy from Corsica, that was a new one for me! I have only ever met one person who's been to Corsica and he was nearly flattened by landslides!

It was here in Rio that I actually tried surfing for the first time. My god is it tough to do! I had an hour lesson and then spent about two or three hours in the water and didn´t get on the board once. It´s a killer and you need the patience and perseverance of a saint, unfortunately I have neither and it drained me of all energy pretty soon; though I´d like to try it again somewhere else. It´s so frustrating when you are in the water, tired and panting, with chaffed skin on your knees and stomach and almost crying at not being able to get up on the board - and you glance across the bobbing waves and there´s a 12 year old girl riding them with ease, making it look
Overlooking sugar loaf mountain.Overlooking sugar loaf mountain.Overlooking sugar loaf mountain.

This was taken when we visited the Christ the Redeemer statue that overlooks Rio.
so easy! Oh, the rage that racked me! There were two Aussie lads on the trip also, Curtis and Rob, who spent most of the afternoon on the beer. In retrospect, it was a good, productive choice! When we got back to the hostel I joined them and we all carried on into the night - but I had some catching up to do with these two! I must say I love the Aussie sense of humour and bad language, like being home really...

I spent a few days on the beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema, visited the statue of Christ The Redeemer and played beach football with a group of other backpackers on Copacabana - which was hard, damned bloody hard. I can´t understand why the Brazilians play it? It is no fun whatsoever (except when someone makes an arse of themselves, dribbling with a ball that stopped behind them five yards ago), you can´t run with or without the ball, you can´t pass it along the sand, you hurt your bloody toes by kicking into the sand and get covered IN sand! Balls to that, I´d make a better surfer I think! Given time, a lot of
More sand artMore sand artMore sand art

At the beach...
time.

When I, or when anyone thinks or Brazil and Rio De Janeiro, the general images that come to mind are of samba, beach football, street parties, a shining sun, friendly faces, G-strings and body builders on the beaches, Copacabana, palm trees, coconuts, the statue of Christ, sugar loaf mountain and general craziness... But somehow it just didn´t live up to the hype or the usual preconcieved image. And I wasn´t alone in thinking this, other people I spoke to felt the same. Don´t get me wrong, I had a great time there and would recommend anyone to visit there, but something was missing. Some sort of pre-packaged promised magic of another time was missing in action. Copacabana beach is very dangerous at night, attempted muggings were common place (I witnessed two myself), police corruption is endemic, the actual area of Copacabana is very sleazy and seedy after dark. The Ipanema area is very snobby and you notice that black faces become less and less common as you walk the streets. The people were friendly, but no more so than anywhere else (Venezuela and Abergavenny excepted). The good-looking girls knew they were and carried an up-ward air of blase arrogance with them. There were no street bands playing samba. The traffic is incredibly heavy and tiresome. Though despite this, I am sure this would be an amazing place to be for the famous Carnival and my opinion is only one - maybe I am wrong, but that´s what I thought and I have to tell the truth. No bullshit happy-smiley accounts from me anymore, I am afraid. This is how it was. Would I go there again? I think so, but only for a special event like the Carnival... Though I am certainly glad I have visited Rio.

Florianópolis
It took me 18 hours by bus to get there, my longest single journey yet! It wasn´t really that bad after sleeping for many hours at night and watching Casablanca twice with no sound.
Florianópolis is an island of beaches, surfing and tourism. For me it was cloudy, windy and rained - so I did nothing. I couldn´t find the Backpackers hostel they all talk about and so settled into an apartment for two days and then left. Unsatisfied.

Porto Alegre
This city is famous for its hosting of important World Social Forums in the past. That glorious fact excepted, it's a dump.

I now plan on getting to Uruguay soon, in some few days, take a look around and then head for nearby Argentina. Where exactly I will be for Christmas I don´t know, maybe Buenos Aires, maybe Puerto Madryn (the Welsh place), maybe Mendoza (from a recommendation), maybe even Uruguay, maybe Colombia again (to see some friends) or maybe I have no idea where? I only care as the need takes me.

And so for now,
Wish you were here...
Jamie
Porto Alegre,
Brazil


''Procrastination is the thief of time. Collar him!''
From David Copperfield
by Charles Dickens.



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Me at the falls...Me at the falls...
Me at the falls...

Just after getting a soaking.


25th November 2014

Query from November 2014 re 1997
My son and I met Laura late in 1997. She used to take us all out to dinner each night from her pension. We had good times and lots of really good musical sessions at the various restaurants. Sorry to chip in after so many years, are you still on line?
25th November 2014

Query from November 2014 re 1997
My son and I met Laura late in 1997. She used to take us all out to dinner each night from her pension. We had good times and lots of really good musical sessions at the various restaurants. Sorry to chip in after so many years, are you still on line?
25th November 2014

Still around...
Hi Peter, Thanks for the comments. Yes, I'm still around, though not blogging as you can see. When I read back some of my blogs now, years later, some of them are a little on the harsh side, bordering on offensive. I think I'll have to go back and edit them at some point! That's what growing up, marrying and having children does I think...! Yes, Laura was a wonderful and unforgettable host, with a slight penchant for a tipple... I didn't stay there too long, and there wasn't much going on to be honest but it was a memorable stay all the same... Jamie
25th November 2014

Query from November 2014 re 1997
My son and I met Laura late in 1997. She used to take us all out to dinner each night from her pension. We had good times and lots of really good musical sessions at the various restaurants. Sorry to chip in after so many years, are you still on line?

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