Sitting on the dock of the bay…

…watching my boat roll away! Yep, missed the boat trip. Got a wee bit disorientated in the rain, finding my departure point. I did get there, a couple of minutes late, but they could not understand what I was asking for and sent me somewhere else. Returned back to the hostel in a strop 😦 probably took an hour to chill my boots and decided to go on a Dora trip. Where first? The port – this it what you could have had… Lord, the boats were so Barbie ‘esq, a candy coloured sea of prettiness.

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While, en route I found all the lovely houses… And so for my next post, ‘Play School’ springs to mind.

Hola Che Lagarto

Arrived in Paraty last night, in the rain; this rain nonsense is not helping with my sun kissed babe look 😉 I booked into the Che Lagarto hostel since I stayed in the same group of hostels in Rio. First look, all cool. Lovely outdoor area.

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However, went up to see my room… The bathroom was worse than any I have ever experienced in any student house! Not nice. Think I was very spoilt with Biergarten hostel in Ilha Grande. Hey, there could be worse things. Still hopeful of what Paraty had to offer. I had to venture out to pay for the room – they wanted payment upfront, think that’s probably incase anyone did a runner once they saw the bathrooms! First impressions not good, the front street looked tired and had no character; I thought this was supposed to have some of the most beautiful architecture in Brazil????
Anyway, a beer soon fixed my misery and I met a chap from Berlin; Mattieus who I had dinner in the hostel with; plus the tunes were the best I’ve heard to date; mixture of reggae and funk. Another beer and a caprihini for the road and off I was to watch the last episode of Homelands given I have to be up for boat trip early in the morning.

Trekking in flip flops

Day two in Ilha Grande. The rain had stopped, however, the hostel was without electric – a cold shower I presume. It was actually quite good to ease the itching of the mozzies who had had a veritable feast on me the night prior – I didn’t think they liked the rain?

It was not beech weather, but I had my Dora hat on and headed through the town centre to the seafront. Despite the overcast weather, it was incredibly warm and you could get an idea how glorious it’d be in full sunshine.

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I headed along to the State Park and began a gentle jaunt through the forest (which was quite jungle esq in my mind). Along the way I came across a multitude of hidden beeches, one which I had to myself, well at least for 15 mins.

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As you all may well know, I am not typically described as an outdoorsy gal, but wandering through the forest and hearing the swish swash of the sea really re-energised me; I felt that at that moment there was no where better i’d rather be.

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I came to a viaduct – cue arty shots…

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And I decided I was enjoying myself so much, I’d continue on the path; to the waterfall I thought. Mmm, an hour and a half later, no waterfall but lots of steep uphill climbs. Not only was I wearing hugely inappropriate footwear (I did not realise it was going to steep!), I had also ran out off water. Time to retrace my tracks, this time downhill. I saw some fellow hikers using a big stick as a walking pole, despite me emulating this and feeling like I was Gandolf in the Lord of the Rings, I ended up on my butt, covered in orange clay! Hey, another lesson learnt and at least I got some ‘jungle’ shots!

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Oh, and just on case you don’t believe me, here’s the evidence 😉

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Where is my rain mac?

From the madness of Rio, I had heard that Ilha Grande was a chilled, laid out island with gorgeous beaches and tropical forests covering the hill sides – I was looking forward to a bit of tranquility.

It was raining when I left Rio and a three hour south westerly bus ride and it was still raining. I arrived at a port and waited about half an hour (yep, in the rain), to board the boat and sail across to Abraao. It was a relatively smooth crossing, however, as we neared our destination the island looked really eery, the condensation seeping from the forests gave it a kind of ‘journey to the centre of the earth’ feel.

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As we approached the isle, it started thundering and lightening. I ferociously searched in my day pack for my mac and then realised I had put it in my ruck sack – doh! Mind to be honest, what use a mac would have done in the torrential rain is anyone’s guess. My stop was the last one and I was greeted by what looked like a mass exodus from the island, hundreds of people were wrapped in green towels waiting to escape. Getting off the boat was very scary, but I put my nose to the ground and stomped through the roads which had turned into rivers, wheeling my ruck sack, day sack strapped to back and two other bags slung across me. Before long, although it seemed like an eternity, I reached my hostel; Biergarten (wonder why I choose this one, lol!) and was greeted with a warm welcome and a dry towel. Got to the room and realised that most of the contents in my bags were drenched; why did no-one suggest I get a waterproof cover – Sue? 😉

Regardless, arrived safely if soaked. A fellow traveller, Grant from Sydney, arrived in a similar state, so there was only one thing for it, some beers and dinner. Before long, the wet and sodden journey seemed like a distant memory and I began to take In my surroundings. What a cool hostel, I’ll be delirious if the majority of them on this trip are as cool as this!

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When in Rio

My last night in Rio. I had every intention of an early night, alas loads of the lovely folks I met were out, so it seemed really wrong not to drink the night away.

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Ciao ciao Rio, you have been a blast! Hola Ilha grande x

Ps I know I’m a couple of days behind, but I’ll catch my tail soon 😉

City of God?

Today I headed to two favelas. I had read that in the last year or so they had drastically changed and many, instead of being infested with drug barons and guns, had been ‘pacified’ which basically meant on a set date the police and relevant military (I heard there were tanks involved) moved in and took over the favela…. I didn’t know quite what to expect, or how voyeuristic it would be – in my naivety ‘city of god’ did spring to mind.

A few numbers are required to indicate the enormity of the favelas. There are 1,000 plus in Rio, which equates to 20% of the population, a staggering 1.5 million people. The majority set up home so they would be close to the city; where they work. They tend to work in the hospitality trade, there are also many that work in construction – hence they had the know-how to construct their homes.

A bit of history for you (yep I was a grade ‘A’ student on the the trip). Back in 1889 there was a rebellion in Rio and the authorities enlisted the help of many to quash it. The soldiers set up base in the mountains where the native plant a ‘favella’ grows. They returned glorious and were promised land thanks to their great victory. Of course, this did not materialise so the men decided to just start building houses into the side of the mountain. I’m not sure how this relates, but the year previously slavery was also abolished; whether the slaves were enlisted as soliders or whether give they were homeless and jumped on the soldiers bandwagon and started building there too? Obviously, I was not listening that hard!!!!

History lesson finished, now my take on them. The first noticeable thing was how close they were to those with cash, as we entered the first favela there was the most expensive public school in Rio next door, obviously electric fences and tonnes of security, but it was bizarre none-the-less. Ironically, our first stop in the favela was to take some scenic shots of Rio; they may not have much, money but these views are priceless…

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My second observation, and it really could not be ignored, was the smell oozing out of the favelas. Since pacification and the moving in of the UPP, this problem is being addressed. They now have authorities removing rubbish twice daily; I can only surmise that all thebrubbish was just left before. This favela was quite a big one, a conservative estimate of 70,000 folks, Anyway, enough of my rambles, here’s some pix.

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We wandered down the main street and to be honest, aside from the wiring, you could have been anywhere. There was a mixture of stores and I don't know what I was thinking, but everyone just looked like normal folk going about their everyday business.

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Since pacification, a lot has been done to improve life in the favelas. Community and sport centres, a 24 hour hospital, and in the next year the favela will get a lift which will aid people getting down to Rio and into work more easily. I was especially delighted to see this Oscar Niemeyer bridge – my first glimpse of his work.

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There tends to be one main road in the favelas, the rest of the district is made of alleyways and houses built precariously on top of one another. If you don’t live on the main road, you have to contend with the fact that:

A) it’s obviously a nightmare getting in and out, especially if you need to get to work (to combat this there is fleet of motor cycles who charge 2 real to get you out of the favela)
B) the alleyways aren’t named, so you don’t have an address so it makes getting work difficult, many have post directed to local community.

In the second favela, we visited a school. It’s part funded by the tour group and Italians. The president of Fiat, invested heavily in it 16 years ago and many kids in the favelas are also sponsored by Italian families. Education in Rio is split into shifts, half the kids go to school in the morning and the remaining kids in the afternoon. This poses the problem of what they do when they aren’t at school, ie: get involved with the local drug barons! This is why schools like this one are invaluable, giving them somewhere to go when they aren’t In regular school. It’s the summer holidays in Brazil, so just a few kids were there playing on the computers.

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They had a few volunteer teachers and one of them was especially big on recycling, which makes perfect sense when resources are so scarce.

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A few more pix…

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I was unsure how I felt visiting the ‘poor’ and seeing how they lived, it all seemed a bit morally wrong. However on reflection, it was refreshing to see that aside from the conditions they lived in and facilities they did not have (which slowly, but surely are being addressed), they were just folks getting on living their life the best they could. Surprisingly, there was a vast difference in the standard of many of the homes and there is a favela ‘middle class’, however, instead of moving to better areas they have decided to stay put; this is there home and their community; their city of god!

Ciao ciao x

Ps. This post has been a real labour of love, three attempts and it’s eventually done!

Caipirinha

Well, it’s my last blog of the evening, all this typing is making me very thirsty… Talking of thirsty, I returned from yesterday’s tour and Mia and I decided a well deserved beer was in order. Before long, one turned into two, two into three and then i decided it was time to try my first ever Caipirinha; well when in Brazil. All I’m saying, is before I knew it, I had met quite a few lovely folks, downed a few more caipirinha’s and it was 5am, hence the late start today 🙂

Here’s some of my new pals from yesterday.

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Mia, Natasha and Deech.

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Adam and Deech, all the way from sunny Manchester.

Happy days and nights!

1960s cathedral

Mmmm, next stop was the cathedral. I knew very little about it (ok, nothing) and was not really relishing more godliness. However, how very wrong I was. I think this was my favourite part of the tour; 1960s architecture mixed with a wee bit of Egyptian inspiration.

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Ok, from the outside it may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I’d be amazed if everyone does not appreciate the inside.

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Steps to heaven

Was really looking forward to seeing this… I think it’s either a Chilean or Peruvian artist who ended up setting up home in rio. He started collecting tiles and decorating the steps outside his studio and people started bringing him more tiles from all all the world resulting in this loveliness. I warn you now, I was very inspired by this and took loads of pix.

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Yes, don’t laugh, but here’s me in my traveller get up; note the zip off trousers, lol.

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We were able to go into the artist’s studio. He has a thing for pregnant women who heavily (excuse the pun) feature in his work.

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BTW: just found out from some other travellers, that the artist was murdered a few of days ago; think a couple of days before I had visited. So the story goes, his apprentice got mad with him and burnt him to death… Strange, but not sure how true!