Driving iss crazy

Computers aren't as quick, nor internet access so freely available, hence why it's been over a week since this was last updated.

"In Brazil it is easier to fly than to drive...I fly better than I drive". So said Alex, one of our hang gliding pilots, as he drove us up to Pedra Bonita which overlooks Rio. And he was right. Some of the driving here is crazy. The other morning we drove past people helping a driver out of their overturned car. Flying - or hang gliding rather - certainly seems safer...once you get past the whole idea that you're running off the edge of a hill and hoping that you're going to float.




We left Rio and caught a coach (with more legroom than you'd find in the backseat of a Bentley) to a small port down the coast called Angra dos Reis. From there, after a seagull had left it's mark on Div, we took a ferry (more of a yacht really) to an almost secluded island called Ilha Grande. The weather was kind to us for the two days we were there (around 34 degrees) so we did very little other than walk fropm deserted beach to deserted beach, sunbathing in between.



Last Saturday we took a ferry (and it was more of a ferry this time) back to Angra. After the most unsatisfying burger ever, with Nicole and I heading on to Paraty, Div and Greg left us to go back to Rio, as they were flying home (those trains won't drive themselves). With them went our only hopes of capturing any brilliant images of the landscape and scenery (Div) or of being able to take anymore reflection-in-the-aviator-shades photos (Greg), so apologies for the dip in quality from here on in. Less than an hour after they'd left, and just after the comedy sketch that was Nicole attempting to get through the turnstile barrier on the bus with her rucksack on, I was fortunate (if you can call it that) to see that burger again, as she also threw up on the bus. I'm not sure who was most surprised - Nicole, or the little lady lucky enough to be sitting in the seat next to her. But we got to Paraty eventually, and it was well worth the journey (though maybe not for the little lady). It's an old colonial town, with sections of all the buildings painted in different colours and cobblerd streets that flood when the tide comes in.



Simon, the owner of the pousada we were staying at, was English, and looked kind of like Ben Kingsley's character in Sexy Beast. In fact though, he was about as far removed from that persona as you can get, and seemed to really enjoy having English speaking guests staying there, as they usually hosted Brazilians. It gave him a chance to chat to us in his native tongue about all kinds of stuff, such as all Brazilians acting like big kids (they love to just randomly shout at each other), times when he had or hadn't got mugged (once at gunpoint, another when a group kids found no money on him, and in return had to buy him a beer), and what he missed or didn't miss about Britain (jazz music / rap music).

It's currently election time in Brazil, so the TV is full of party political broadcasts, and the streets are full of processions of cars and motorbikes, with waving flags and beeping horns. If a party tried tactics like that back home, the opposition would have a carbon footprint field day.


We chose what was probably the wettest day up until then to take a schooner boat trip around the bay. When the rain stopped and they dropped the anchor, the islands and water were beautiful, but as soon as we were on the move again and the heavens opened, it suddenly got very damp and cold. The fact that Paraty receives just one and a half tv channels, neither of which have a weather report, didn't particularly help.




Our coach to São Paulo was evenb better than the last. In-coach radio, encompassing MPB (Música Popular Brasileira) and smooth 80's UK pop, plus Weekend at Bernie's on in-coach DVD, which surprisingly I'd never seen. Although for some reason they decided to dub it into Portugese, and then add English subtitles. I didn't really understand that one. São Paulo itself was very big, busy, and a bit of a hole (at least in the bits we went through), so we only stayed there a night.


For our final leg across Brazil we took another coach (I see a pattern emerging) for 15 hours to Foz do Iguaçu and the Argentinian border. On our last coach the average age of passengers was about 25. On this one it was about twice that, and they were twice as rowdy. Simon was right, they are just big kids.


Rio de Janeiro to Foz do Iguaçu via Angra dos Reis, Paraty and São Paulo - 1089 miles

Don't cry for me, there's enough water in Argentina as it is

Hey, so its been well over a week since I wrote on this blog thingy, sorry for the delay - I know how much you are looking forward to the next installment! Also apologies if what I and Fitz write about overlaps, but I guess that way you get the female and male version of events or the truth and the exaggerated?!

At the moment am still a little damp from our soaking at the Iguassu falls, it was our second day there and unfortunately today we were soaked but the rain rather than the watefalls themselves but I'll get on that later! (Though I'm sure some of you are pleased to hear we haven't been sunning ourselves the whole time!!)

We left Rio last week for the Island 'Ilha Grande', not much to report there apart from stunning beaches and a nice lady who owned the hostel who cooked everyone dinner.







Oh and we met some English and Irish people (there's loads of Irish Travelling it seems) and played drinking games and went to a club ( though Fitz didn't make it to the club - cough - lightweight).

I left Ihla Grande with a massive hangover, surrived the ferry back to the main land by sleeping the whole way but struggled on the bus to Paraty. We also bid farewell to Greg and Div as it was beans a clock. (In joke)

Paraty is a very pretty colonial town with white buildings and cobbled streets which are prone to flooding, we discovered this for ourselves when we got surrounded by sea water whilst looking at a church.




There are lots of little shops and nice restaurants in Paraty so we ate quite well, with a tasty good value lunch of fish in shrimp sauce and at night had dinner by candlelight at a place on the beach.

The hostel we stayed in was more of a hotel and was lovely, we had the full works; ensuite, TV, aircon, fridge stocked with beer, yummy breakfast - I fear we have been spoilt as nowhere else since matches up!

We also did a boat trip around the surrounding islands and got rather wet, not just from swimming but because it rainned! Oh well.




From Paraty we travelled by bus to Saó Paulo and stayed overnight. We caught the metro, which was nice and clean, to our hotel. That's all I have to say about Saó Paulo as we didn't see much of it at all as we didn't stayed in a particularly nice neighbourhood and didn't have a guide book so were confined to our room.

We took a 15 hour bus - which is really a coach with lots of leg room and seats that go really far back - to Foz Igacu (Brasilian spelling of Iguassu) with lots of mad Brasillian people. For those of you that don't know, the Iguassu river forms the boarder between Brasil, Argentina and Paraguay and the waterfalls are between Brasil and Argentina. We're now at Puerto Iguazu (Argentinian spelling of Iguassu) in Argentina as its cheaper than visiting on the Brasil side! (Fitz is now fed up of me asking him how to spell Iguassu in 3 different languages)

So yesterday we went to visit the Iguassu falls and they didn't dissapoint, they are absolutely stunning, a complete must see. When Eleanor Roosevelt (remember her from GCSE history Ally?!) went there she is to have said "Poor Niagara" so you get the picture! (We took tons of photos) There are lots of different trails which take you above and below the falls, you can go round anyway you want but if you start at the top its best apparently so that's what we did. Like lots of other vistors we did the boat trip which takes you up to the falls and got completely drenched which was fun, I had a wet bum for the rest of day. The top half of me was dry though so I know that my waterproof works.



We saved the biggest waterfall till the end of the day 'Garganta Del Diablo' - The Devils Throat which is breathtaking. It is spectacular, completely awesome, the walkway takes you right up to the edge of it and you can look down. As you stand there getting covered in its spray you can appriecate its shear volume, power and beauty. It's so loud! We took a short video of it so hopefully we can get to post that on here.





We went back to the falls for a second day today as its half price on your second day so we did a trail we didn't get round to yesterday. Today we got soaked to the bone cos it rainned and rainned and rainned. Fitz has done a good job of hanging everything around our room to dry in time for tomorrows 18 hour bus trip to Beunos Aires. This time we get full beds so should sleep OK.




Righty ho, I hope you didn't fall asleep through all that! Or maybe you just scrolled to the photos?
Hope alls well. I keep having weird dreams about being at home - like last night I dream I was still at work and there was a tiger in a cage in the office which was our new boss' (not sure if it was Dominic or not - the boss not the tiger) which got out and attacked me! I told Jo about it but our boss wouldn't get rid of it! Ha ha - how random. Think it has something to do with seeing 2 tigers in changes being driven around the town here to 'attract' people to the circus...



Oh yeah and the other day we went to this animal place and saw endangered birds and animals and it came with a tour guide all for a fiver. Bargain!



Right, am really gonna sign off now!

Take Care
Lots of love
Nicole
xxx

Rain, Favelas and Hang Gliding...part 2

here's the photos of Roçinha. you can't imagine just how big this place is.
or rather, how cramped it is.

Rain, Favelas and Hang Gliding...

So finally I'm writing stuff on this blog! Unlike Fitz I do not wish to spend half of my entire trip sitting at a computer...I left my job for a reason!

Anyway we've been having a great time in Rio, as you've read, we've been busy with all the tourist attractions, although for the past 2 days it has been raining so have just been hanging (literally in the hammocks) about in the hostel. The hostel is very nice but dead quiet, the other night we watched Murray lose the tennis and then entertained ourselves with a game of ring of fire!

So, the interesting stuff now...the view from Sugar Loaf was absolutely stunning especially as we timed going up there at sunset so it was extra gorgeous.

I don't want to go on too much about what Fitz has already written about but we survived the football game amongst the hooligans. The football was dull but the amostsphere fantastic, I particluarly liked the fact that one of the fans came along handing out homemade flags for everyone to wave and then collected them at the end. There was lots of chanting, drumming and clapping. Oh and hotdogs which were served cold - hmm yummy!

On Sunday, being the sabath we went to see Jesus. (It actually just worked out that that was our free day to go up to Christ the Reemdeemer but it makes us sound like good Christians?!) There is a little train which takes you all the way up the mountain to see him which is just perfect. However we didn't do this...we got a cab for the same price and got to stop off at another view point on the way up - bonus! The cab was so old there weren't any seatbelts in the back but it was in good nick though.

When we reached the 'top' we paid our entrance fee ( getting the cab cost 2 quid extra but was good cos we avoided the crowds on the train) and then proceeded to walk the last little bit up to the big JC. Although it wasn't a little walk, it wasn't that near the top either, we walked all the way just this really steep roads with loads of twists and turns which you won't be suprised to hear that I wasn't muched impressed with!! And yes I did sulk, no one had bloody told me walking up mountains would be involved! It wasn't meant to be as we worked out half way up that for the price of our ticket we could have just got in one the many minibuses taking people up the last bit, but noone told us that.

Anyway it was good when we finally got up there! Mega-busy with tourists though.

Monday was a test of bravery (well it was for me) as we went of a tour of Rocinha Favela. I was scared of both the fact we were going on the tour and the fact we had to get motor-taxis up the hill into the Favela, motor taxis are motorbikes which I don't view as particularly safe. For those of you that don't know Favela in English means Shanty town or you might refer to them as slums.

It was raining on the day of our visit and so all the rain flew in my face as we sped up the hill on these bikes, my grip tightly round the driver's waist. In the end I enjoyed the motorbike ride, its how the locals get around and the tour itself was interesting and insightful. I actually felt quite safe in the Favela, we saw art work made by the locals and I bought a bracelet made by one of the kids. We stopped for refreshments in a little shop and the boys had 'Lenny Kravitz' cake - its named after him as he had it on his visit to the Favela.

We saw the gang look outs who look out for if the police are in the Favela, they have walkie talkies and fireworks in their pockets to let off to warn the gang that the police are there. We also went to the kids day care centre which was really nice and the tour helps support.

Ok this getting quite long now so I'll move onto today. Today we went hang gliding! It was amazing, I definitely reccomend doing it to anyone, all you have to do is run off a cliff. Its the closest you'll get to flying, there were spectular views of the mountains, city and beach. We had perfect wind for it apparently. Photos to follow soon - we all bought CDs of our pics.

Right best finish this now, internet is not free here! We're going to be very Brazilian tonight and go to 'Lord Jim's' which is an English pub with a quiz night.

Early start tomorrow and onwards to Ilha Grande for some more lovely beaches. Its a hard life.

Hope you are all well.

Not sure how to sign off this blog but who cares!

Lots of Love
Nicole
xxxx

Also I can't get the spell check to work - sorry!

Leaving...on a jet plane.

The last time I left to travel to South America, I was 15, but looked about 12. Now I´m 26, and still look about 12. The rucksack, babyface and short haircut's the same, but thankfully I got rid of those awful combats (and swapped them for a tacky two quid vest from h&m instead. Bargain.)

I also remember the first thing on landing in Quito ten years ago was how thin the air was due to the altitude (about 3000m). This time around in Rio, it was the heat. Nearly 30 degrees and it wasn't even half 9 in the morning. We probably got ripped off paying for our cab to the hostel, but it was stillway cheaper than one home from the centre of London at 3am, and we needed this one just as badly.

Arriving in Copacabana we waited down on the beach before we could check in. It became pretty clear that in Rio, people try to sell you things. a LOT of things. On the beach, at street corners, sometimes before you've even stepped off a bus. Stuff like sarongs, water, weird meats, sunglasses ("sunglass?", "no thanks, I've already got a pair on my head", "s'ok, you have two"). But to be fair, they do move on if you've said no. There's also a lot off big-butt-and-not-a-lot-of-bikini combos on show.

The hostel we stayed at with Div and Greg in Copacabana was called Bamboo Rio, and on one website it said that at the hostel 'luckily you will see monkeys and other small animals'. Well, we were that luckily, as when we having breakfast one morning a whole school/swarm/whatever of monkeys came down to feast on the banana left out for them. But the rooms in the hostel were tiny (the smallest in South America according to one American that was in the room with us, but you know what Americans are like). And aside from the long beach (and it is a long beach) Copacabana hasn't really got much going for it, so we left.

We're now in Leblon, supposedly the 'posh' bit of town. Well, it's no Mayfair, but it does have actual places you can find yourself a half decent meal in, which is more than could be said for Copacabana. We've spent our time since then doing Rio. Pão de Açúcar, Maracanã and Cristo Redentor, or Sugar Loaf, the football stadium and Christ the Redeemer to those of you less well versed in Portugese. A camera can't really capture the view from Pão de Açúcar, it's awesome. The game at the Maracanã was awful, but the commitment from the drummers and the hardcore fans was immense - they never stopped singing and dancing for two hours, even while their team played like Spurs on a bad day. And the big JC was, well, big. As you'd expect really. We've also found a far superior beach then Copacabana or Ipanema (it's called Praia Vermelha, and it's right beside the sugar loaf), been to some fairly decent clubs (like zerozero and club six - in Rio they charge you when you leave to go home, when you're drunk, so you have no idea how much your night has cost - it's dangerous), and been to the Botanical Gardens, which cost the equivalent of one pound thirty (i have no pound sign).

Greg keeps bottling the hang gliding, so we haven't done that yet. With any luck though we'll sort that tomorrow. We're also planning to go down the coast to Ilha Grande for a few days, to relax a bit (because it's been quite stressful so far, as I'm sure you can well imagine...) and tour one of the favelas (robably Roçinha, because it's the biggest, and Mr Bee taught us all about it in Year 11 Geography).

The slow internet connection and weird image uploader thingy on this blog is doing my head in, so instead of including any pictures with the text as i've gone along, i've decided to just paste them all at the bottom (they're all pretty self explanatory).

No idea when you'll hear from one of us next, so I hope you're all enjoying the summer back home (Indian or not). If it makes it any better, it's just started raining here.

Stuart x

London to Rio De Janiero via São Paulo - 6107 miles