26-30.09.24
Here we are, our final stop. The last hurrah before heading back to Blighty . Well, for ten days before we head off on our next adventure. What better place to spend it in than Rio de Janeiro? It was a perfect final four days to the whole trip and we got some proper beach time, sunshine and touristy stuff. I’ve been to Rio before and I loved it then… but I came home with a nasty case of Shigella (more lovely parasitic gut stuff) which may have put a dampener on things. As I write this on the plane home, I hope that this time I have escaped such a fate. It was also an added bonus that this time I got to do some major tourist attractions, something that I didn’t do last time.
First day was decidedly a beach day, and we headed to Copacabana around 11am. True to memory, the beach vendors were out in full force. It is completely overwhelming, they’re all trying to sell you beach chairs, umbrellas, caipirinhas, cocaine, you name it. Despite knowing this would be the case, actually dealing with it was rather overwhelming for the both of us, but we persevered and weren’t ripped off too badly for our chair and parasol hire. Our two beers turned out to be five beers and despite asking his name at least 7 times, our beach guy (who’s name was Sebastian which he told me once and I, of course, remembered) failed to remember Alex’s name the entire time we were there. He did, however call him “a legend, my friend, a legend with a princesa” (me) so I’ll sort of forgive him. Also, he was clearly off his tits on the coke he kept offering us. Alex was becoming rather concerned that he gave off “a vibe” because Sebastian wasn’t the only one to offer us drugs… anyway. The beach was fab for people watching and we had previously discovered that a “thumbs up” is a non verbal signal that, when combined with a “Não obrigada”, lets them know that you’ve seen the vendor but are not interested in their wares. We settled in for some good people watching.
Eventually the clouds settled in in a serious way and it was time to go, beach chair hawkers practically tipping us out of them (not really but it makes for a good image). Not much else happened that day apart from the restaurant we had decided upon being closed (curse strikes again) for what looked like a private event.
The following day dawned lazily. After some ham cheese and mustard sarnies and a whole lot of sweet FA, we eventually stirred our stumps and went to the botanical gardens. Having been before I was, naturally, excited to go again, only this time with a new found love of birds and a better understanding of plants (thank you to my various plant and bird apps and stereotypical millennial hobbies born in the Panny D).
After a walk we had dinner at a pizza place with typically weird Brazilian toppings (it’s a thing, they do pizza weird) but it was honestly fantastic.
Sunday was Tourist Day. We got up in good time, I had some banana and maracuya passion fruit (this ain’t your sad, small, shrivelled purple nonsense you get in the UK… it was the size of a pomelo, yellow and smelled like sunshine) for breakfast and made some sarnies. First stop: Christ the Redeemer.
There was, as you might imagine, some queuing. But it wasn’t terrible. Bloke in front of us was English and the guys in front of him were either German or Swiss and were trying to befriend him so that was fun to eavesdrop in on. There was a train up to the top which was, unfortunately, filled with some of the worst kinds of people. The ones that start chants and shriek loudly, despite clearly being in their 30s. It made me feel very murdery.
We made it to the top without either of us killing anyone, and made our way up to the main event. Pretty impressive feat of engineering tbh. I read the info and I still don’t quite understand how they got the ruddy thing up the hill. Anyway, as expected there were even more terrible people doing their selfies, sometimes very “nanna posing for the family slide show” and other times very “wannabe influencer with an upskirt angle to highlight bum with Jesus in the background”. Classy. People frequently shouted at you to move if you dared get in the way of their influencer photo. Not wanting to be confused for such people, our photos weren’t so carefully choreographed…
On the way down, we felt it was time for our sandwiches. Alex had his eye on a particular bench, I imagine because there was a cat sitting underneath. Unfortunately there were also monkeys nearby. Not having his wits firmly about him at this time, Alex quickly fell prey to one of the braver amongst their number. My biggest regret is having not captured the moment that the ham, cheese and mustard mini baguette, lovingly prepared by yours truly, was snatched from Alex’s hands by that tiny simian bastard. Off it went, gleefully, into a tree, prize clutched to its chest.
After a short while munching, others had noticed the monkeys prize. A challenger approached. A chase and a dramatic tussle ensued in which our poor antihero, the original thief, lost half his prize. Honestly it made for great entertainment and may have outshone the “Christ the redeemer” statue in terms of entertainment value.
Having had to share my sandwich instead o having one each, we thought perhaps an early lunch was in order. We headed to Santa Teresa, an area that I had stayed in previously, and found a nice place that served standard Brazilian fair of meat and multiple carbs.
Appetite thus sated, we wandered around a bit, before heading back to do some preliminary packing before heading out again for our final tourist attraction: Sugarloaf Mountain. Lots of queues for this one and another case of bafflingly long time spent at the ticket booth by others. We got our tickets and paid for them (even with a slow system) in well under a minute once we got there. Then more queues, an awkward, compulsory photo in which we both pulled a silly face, and then more queues before the cablecar up to the first big hill which is topped by what can only be described as a shopping centre/theme park. We headed straight for the queue for the next cablecar that would take us up to the top of Sugarloaf itself.
This too felt like a theme park/shopping centre. There were viewpoints everywhere but some had some serious bottlenecks. Still, it was some of the most spectacular views I’ve seen and, as the sun set, it looked completely magical. After taking more photos than I will ever be able to show anyone, we decided to head back down the cable car, first tackling the first set of incomprehensible queues.
In the middle section we decided to have a beer and decide where to have our final dinner in Rio. We found a place nearby and proceeded to queue for a further 20-30 minutes for the cable car down to ground level. I amused myself by watching the bats.
The restaurant didn’t feel like you could actually go in, given that it was on a military base and there was a security gate. But it said it was open and after watching some Brazilians go through we bravely followed. We had a table overlooking the waves crashing onto the shore of the little beach below us and it was pretty perfect. We decided to have Feijoada, basically a delicious bean n meat stew with rice, farofa (toasted casava flour, oddly moreish) crackling, and some collard greens. A perfect last meal and so large that it should have been between four people not two (it said two on the menu) and we had to leave some.
As we didn’t have to check out until 12, there was plenty of time for some beach in the morning. We decided to head to Ipanema for a couple of hours which was a lovely start to the day. Imagine being able to do that every day before work! The waves were enormous so I didn’t brave much more than a paddle in up to my waste. We also managed to burn ourselves by making the classic British mistake of thinking “Oh it’s fine, it’s early morning and we’re only here for an hour and a half! We’ll be fine!” Oops. Not too crispy, but not comfortable.
Suddenly, we were back at the AirBnB, showering, finishing our packing, and tidying up the flat. Then it was time to go.
An uber to the airport that wouldn’t allow us to use his boot (either it was broken and wouldn’t open or there was a body in it, who’s to say), a hop, skip and a jump through security (seriously, pretty quiet) and a few last minute souveniers in duty free. I got Alex a T-shirt with a capybara on it. There was also a nun having a solo pint in an airport part and I almost missed the sight because I was rubbing my eye. And before you ask, definitely real nun in her 70s, real habit, real pint but not real ale (it was lager). Alas, no photo.
After a stint in a lounge eating and drinking for free, we got onto the plane, into Business Class, darling (again, Alex is good with those avios points), more booze, some decent plane food, Furiosa on the screen and a snooze in my private little pod.
Feels mad to say, but that’s it for South America! Ten weeks of travel, six countries, many areas, lots of cities and towns, some questionable accomodation, some incredible food (and vice versa), some lovely people and some interesting driving styles, a whole variety of weather and temperatures, vastly different pronunciations of Spanish (looking at you Buenos Aires) and, incredibly, nothing of any importance lost or stolen. Just one dropped iPhone cable and one broken camera (both mine), that latter of which can probably be fixed.
I feel like I’ve learned a lot about what I’m capable of, namely losing all inhibation when it comes to sounding a total fool in Spanish. I can make myself understood and that’s what counts. I can rough it in ‘hotels’ (hovels) made of salt, I will complain about the lack of hot water but I can deal with it, desert-dry conditions are not the one for me (though Alex loved it) and I am too old and decrepid (and always have been to be honest) for a night bus.
Am I ready for Japan and the rest of South East Asia? Well no… ten days feels far too short. But here we are! I shall be changing up what I pack, leaving some things behind, adding others. In the meantime, I must mainline autumn into my veins as these few days are all I’m going to get! And would you believe it… three days in and I’ve already got a cold? Classic.