Taxi! FOLLOW THAT BUS!

So, Sao Paulo...we were there for one night in a cheap and dirty hotel recommended by lonely planet. I think they definitely need an update in their book, maybe a review to mention the convenience and obvious use of this hotel for quick use from the downstairs bar. Ah well it had a bed and a bathroom and was ok for one night at least. We had a fabulous sushi dinner in the large Japanese district and walked around the next day in the shopping district. Definitely had a moment of confusion when I suddenly couldn't wlember if I was in NYC or Boston or in Brazil as we were surrounded by high end stores... Of course we abruptly remembered where we were when we walked into the abundance of homeless. They were everywhere and it was obviously pretty sad and depressing. We were glad to go.

Took another overnight train to florianopolis where we stayed at Tucano hostel. This place is the reason I have not posted. It was the cleanest, friendliest most amazing hostel James or I have ever been to. Despite the rainy weather we managed to have fresh fish, crab, and shrimp. We took a boat one day over to the fishermans village and saw a local waterfall. We took a trek over the sand dunes to Juaquina beach. On the only sunny day we went back to the beach with two Irish guys staying at the hostel and two Brazilian air force tourists from Rio. On Tuesday night after a few too many capihirinias at the hostel we went for a ride to a bar on the sand dunes for some samba! The ride there and back was more comfortable for some...as we had our friends from rio they offered a lift. Not wanting to have to walk around looking for a cab we all piled in. Safety first! James and I went over in the boot...thankfully our friends were very kind to us when going over speed bumps.

Samba was lots of fun after I decided not to care if I looked even more like a gringo...standing with three very pale tourists kind of gave me away (ofcourse to keep the peace I must mention that james is actually quite tan....in his eyes).

After a very late sleep in we took advantage of the sun and spent a few hours on the beach watching the locals and tourists surf.

My favorite day was going down to the south of the island and getting a dozen very large very fresh oysters from a restaurant on the water overlooking the oyster farms.

After a few very awkward hugs with our Irish friends (for James they were awkward) we headed to the bus stop with an hour and fifteen minutes before our 6:00pm overnight bus to Foz do Iguacu. At 5:50, knowing we still had about 15 minutes before we would arrive at the bus station, we started to panic. The traffic was horrific...go figure! Who would think that rush hour would mean traffic?! Mental head slap insert about now. 6:05 we got to the bus stop and ran as though we were a part of the amazing race, bags slamming making slower and more awkward as we dodged the throngs of people unloading from the many buses. We got lost. We couldn't find the exit!!!! "HOW DO YOU GET OUT OF THIS PLACE," we yelled and looked wildly around. We found it. We ran across the street, dodging bikes and vehicles, me picking up presents James had dropped. As my poor physical fitness became a quick reminder of my inadequacy. James sprinted out of sight. Wheezing, I finally caught up to hear that our bus, the last bus of the night, had left approximately 3 minutes before (it was 6:10). A few choice swear words by James an attendant took pity and wrote down the address of a gas station and stuffed us (me with my bags still on) in a taxi and told us we could catch the bus at it's first stop. Back in traffic, at a crawl, panic hit new heights and our laughter became slightly hysteric... our taxi driver caught on. A few maneuvers later he had us off the highway speeding around the back roads in one of the scariest rides of my life. Miraculously he got us ahead of traffic and we found ourselves driving directly behind OUR BUS! At it's stop our taxi honked and parked directly in front of it. We had made it! Many hand shakes and "Muito obrigada" later we were on our bus. I think our taxi driver was very pleased with himself, as he should be. He definitely saved the day. Note to self, take into consideration traffic next time!!!

Safely in iguacu now, heading to see the brazil side of the falls in a few and then the Argentinian side tomorrow.

Just let it slide

After our relaxing, lazy all day boat tour the day before, we felt that we needed to do something which required a little more effort. So, instead of taking the waterfall tour jeep ride with our fellow hostel friends we decided to rent bikes and make our own way up to them.

One disastrous shop stop later where we were very close to being ripped off (charge for a MAP? pump your own tire? ABORT), we were picked up by our friendly Spanish/Portugese very well (english) spoken friend Matteo and his son.

A few minutes later we were off on our adventure. A few short minutes after this I got my first reminder that I am not the most physically fit (biking with Raiza memories came up)... fast forward ten minutes later and I was the one on the side of the road panting crying out feebly "agua....AGUA" to James. After a grueling twenty minutes (or what felt like 60) of pushing my bike up a steep incline, we were at the waterfalls. I was left with little more than the sweat soaked clothes on my back and my cheap saracastic humour (dignity was lost long before, somewhere near the bottom). Oh, and low and behold, what should we find RIGHT in front of the entrance to the falls? A BUS STOP! Now, I could lie and say that "the adventure made the sights more spectacular" or "it made me appreciate it more" or even "I needed the exercise" (which I clearly did...the lungs definitely gave out before the legs). But lets be honest, the falls were pretty damn amazing without the struggle.... I think the lonely planet could have maybe mentioned that your options don't fall between a jeep ride or a death bike ride (by the way, I really hesitated when typing 'ride').

Anyways, the real site were the falls. I say we saw two, but really they were about 10 metres apart so maybe I will say fall part A and B. Part A was spectacular considering our state. Well I should clarify, MY state; James was fine... clearly a little better in shape than me. Oh, have to mention that he was instrumental in me making it up that mountain (not hill). Amongst the laughs and jabs he did help motivate me... even offered to push my bike the rest of the way, which clearly made me more determined to make it on my own. Anyways, dripping with sweat, red in the cheeks we jumped into the icy cold water. Ah... satisfaction.

Waterfall part B or Tobogan is a natural slide made out of the rock. While we slid down on our bums there were a few locals who gave us a great show. Taking running starts and sliding on their feet, they would do skips and feet moves, even jumping over other sliders as they sat on the edge, all before jumping swiftly into the pool of water.

The ride down the hill was, obviously, great. Laughed like an idiot the whole way down.

Although the weather was overcast today we were told that the weather over at Pao Trinidade (a beach) would be beautiful. Well, it was rainy and misty but still a great time. We made the trip with a few friends we made at the hostel and entertained ourselves despite the rain, playing games and taking silly photos (some more than others). Our fellow hostel friend, Grizelle (not sure of spelling but that is how it is pronounced) from Argentina was dubbed 'Photo'. 1000 photos later (no exaggeration needed) she was maybe half way down the beach. All photos of herself, which meant we were asked, individually, to take her photo. The best being one where she stumbled from the forest with a freshly plucked plant which she placed on her head and smiled. Not entirely sure what she was trying for there...

6 hour bus ride at 8:30am tomorrow morning to Sao Paulo. Fun.

It's party time in Paraty

Early wake up for a 9am Favella tour yesterday. Of course the 9am start meant a 11am start after we had picked up all of our fellow see through gringos (I obviously blend right in.....ok maybe not). Apparently anyone not from brazil is a gringo so it's not actually an insulting term as it applies even to people from Argentina.

Our tour guide Daniella took us to the favella Rocina (pronounced Hoe-seena) where we all jumped on the back of a motorbike to get to the top. Got a bit of an introduction as we all sped (helmetless) to the top while passing a gentleman holding a gigantic rifle. We were specifically told to "so so so pleeease guys no pictures taking of any men with walkie talkies or guns". Uh, no problem!

The favella itself was actually not at all scary. As a pack of gringos we all walked around through the narrow streets boldly holding our cameras. Had some sweets from a local pastry maker (chocolate donuts have never tasted so good). Despite the many stories that Daniella had to tell us of the workings of the drug dealers (my favorite being a police bust where 1 tonne of cocaine was airlifted out and "disappeared" as it flew over the favella) we felt surprisingly safe. Of course Daniella, covered in tattoos with hair to her waist, told us that even if we were to get in trouble, the guys in here knew her and would "take care of us".

Got dropped off at the sugar loaf where we got the cable car up and had a magnificent view of rio.

Quick dinner and an 8pm (four hour) bus ride to Paraty where we arrived in the middle of a blackout. In daylight Paraty (aka Parati) is a beautiful cobble stoned street town on the water. Took an all day boat tour with some fellow tourists from the hostel and visited various little beaches and islands and coves all while trying to avoid staring at our corageous boat traveller who went topless the entire time.

Arrived back on land just in time for a beautiful sunset over the harbor (full of other sail boats). Just as we pulled in the fisherman were unloading their crates of shrimp. Definitely going to look for some shrimp on the menu tonight!

Oh and for Paul, for a snack on our way to the boat tour today we grabbed a couple "carno" Pastels as you suggested. Amazing! A flaky light pastry fried with minced meat inside. Delicious.

Its so nice here we may stay another day and go on a mountain bike ride to see some waterfalls, one of which is supposed to have a slide down (naturally created). In fact, we could stay for another week it is so nice.

Searching for a home and the Homeless World Cup

We checked out of our much loved Rio Hostel yesterday morning and spent the entire miserable rainy wet and cold day looking for a new place to stay. One of the few pick-me-ups of the day was lunch which we had in Copacabana in a small restaurant with the seats in a wrap around counter style all facing in to the glory of about 50 chickens and other various meats and veggies were grilling in the BBQ. Delicious meal. After the all day search we ended up only 5 minutes away from our previous hostel for half the price.

For dinner we went and had a caprese pizza at a nearby restaurant. With our beers we played a new dice game called Fargle (I won 2/3 and therefore has won the right to three blissful days of not having to hold the 'kitty' or money purse). Before we knew it it was 11 o'clock and the streets surrounding the bars and restaurants near the arches (which look like aqueducts) were closed to traffic and the party had begun. 2 am and after having a few at a club we headed back to the hotel. Quick stop for the BEST STREET HOT DOG EVER!! Anthony Bourdain would be in heaven.

Today we had a typical Brazilian breakfast of pastries stuffed with ham and cheese and coffee standing up looking out at the tiled stairs.

On our way to the Homeless World Cup football games we had a typical tourist experience of a coconut on the copacabana beach and then the most delicious meal I have had yet. Prawns. Garlic. Barata frita (fries). Glorious. Shells heads and all. The best I have ever had. There was a good 25 minutes of silence as we sat and sucked on those prawns till there was nothing left.

Off to football we saw the grace and finesse of Brazil as the girls team destroyed Paraguay 11-2. Classic James moment as we attempted to leave the stadium and avoid stepping on people. Since he didn't know the Portugese word for "excuse me" he decided "screw it I'll just say it in Italian!" and proceeded to say 'mi scusi' to everyone he passed (this is the only Italian he knows).

Dinner then bed. Favella tour in the am and then catching the bus to Paraty.

Christo Redentor

Bus number 497. From Lapa, where our hotel is, to the corcovada train station where we were to get a trolley up the hill to the infamous statue. The waiting room was full of flags and we had a cafe gelado (iced coffee) as we waited. Incidentally bermuda is not important enough to make it into the world of flags. Oh and while we laughed that Australia's flag had been rolled up, the only flag tag they misspelled was New Zealand or "New Zeland".

Christo Redentor was much larger than we had expected. Crowded with tourists taking unoriginal photos of the statue...ok yeah we took some too. If this is off season then I definitely do NOT want to see it when its packed!

Jumped on a bus and had a lot of Portuguese yelled at us when James managed to have difficulties with the very simple machine called a turnstile and had to jump off the bus and get in through the back. Apparently once you have been counted NO MISTAKES ARE ALLOWED!! No room for error here unfortunately. Got a very disappointed head shake from the ticket man on his pedestal (really, he sits on a pedestal to the side).

Quick dip in the water at Parque de Flamengo (James, not me...waaaay too cold for that). Beautiful beach with a few typical cariocas in speedos and women in thongs on the beach.

Back to the hotel for a dip in the much smaller than advertised pool and my first warm shower since getting here.

A beer, dinner, and maybe some samba!

Brazil is beautiful. After a quick breakfast of guava, toast and jam at the hostel James and I headed down to find the ATM. The adventure began after an impromptu decision to visit a small 'palace' on an island led us on to a ferry. Thanks to the famous Gibbs directions that ferry, however, took us right past the palace and on towards a random island off the coast of Rio. Once there we decided to walk to the only listed site in the lonely planet, the museum of contemporary art. Well...fourty minutes later we had walked into a fishing village where it was clear there was no museum in the near future. After a frazzled bus trip we were definitely in the right area. Oh, and the bus drivers...CRAZY! We were zipping through those windy roads like a bat out of hell.

Had lunch in a small restaurant which was clearly the common worker's choice. A line out the door for a $6 real buffet meal was definitely what was in order. After some advice from a local woman to "not cross street there, brazilian people no stop, and no care" we crossed the road at a 'safe' crossing, and walked to the contemporary building of contemporary art. Most interesting piece was a black canvas, no difference in shape, tilted ...ON ITS SIDE! Clearly art is a subjective experience because, baby, that was not art, that was a mistake! Pink velvet pajama pants hung up by a peg with only wooden feet coming out of the end? Now THAT is art. Or what about some notepad paper wripped out of the book and put in a case?

The trip ended, we returned to Rio after another tense Ferry ride ('please let this be the right one, please let this be the right one'). I was fading fast so a quick nibble of a custard filled strudel did the trick.

Walked through the city, passing stalls, good everywhere to be sold. My favourite store owner was a man in white, with his white beard covered in gold butterfly clips. Now THAT is advertising in its finest!

Took a walk through a rough area to get to the mosaic tiled staircase. The artist was there completing the upper staircase and asked me to place one of the tiles. I can now say that I was a part of this staircase. Incidentally, close to the bottom there is a Bermuda tile! Clearly someone sent it in....any takers? Anyone?

Off to have some Antartica beer and dinner and maybe go to a club for some dancing!

Beginnings in Brazil

Bermuda - Atlanta. Atlanta - Brazil. Total trip, including layover, 15 hours. 

After a rip off taxi ride fare I was driving through a traffic filled city!  Neck definitely hurting after twisting and turning in my seat every which way trying to take as much in as possible. 

After a drive through the favellas, I was outside on a hill with the city before me. 50 steps up and I was completely out of breath. It was totally worth it. Beautiful room upgraded to a private bathroom because someone made a mistake and booked me into an unavailable room. I'll take it!!

As soon as I got here I met Sam from DC. We were on the same flight and ended up paying individual taxis to the same hostel (he paid 10 reals less than me...damn). We decided that since we were both completely knew to the city we would go together to find an ATM (he hadn't taken out any money). And so begins the adventure. 6 ATMs and 6 rejections later, having passed Rua Mahatma Gandhi (hey Indians are recognized here too!!) we reached the American embassy. After circling 4 times we found the entrance from which we were pointed in the direction of an HSBC.  Never have I been so happy to be a part of HSBC. 

First meal in Brazil was from a small buffet style diner where you pile your plate high and pay per kilo. Total cost: 9 real. Delicious piles of meat and salads, peas and rice and some more rice oh and rice. 

After lunch a shower and a nap was in order and then continued on to Parque da Ruins (a newly ruined building with the only good point of having climbed the huge hill being the view). Lots of getting lost on my first day. Thankfully I was not alone. 

Sam is a radio reporter from Washington. We had an impromptu radio lesson with an experimental interview with Ben, the psychology majored photographer. Was an interesting lesson for the day. 

Oh and incidentally I have been told by the in house chef (through a translator) that I look Brazilian. Man, my Indian heritage is really making life easy. Who would have known! However she was quick to say that not until I learn some Portuguese can we be friends. Fair enough!