Brazil ‘66 plus about 41 years

The statue of Christ (Christo Redemptor) was about a 20 minute taxi ride up the swerving hills of Santa Teresa behind the volunteer house. The statue of Christ has an incredible view over Rio in all directions. You can run up this hill, but you have to run pretty fast otherwise you’ll be mugged. You learn to not carry your valuables in Rio or to at least carry them in a harmless looking plastic bag. Near the end of my time in Rio a Mexican girl walking right behind me, close to our hostel on the way to the Lapa district 5 minutes away, was jumped by two young kids holding sharpened sticks. She had her bag ripped off her back containing her camera and a bit of money. I didn’t even have time to react - it was a real shock. We couldn’t do anything but sit there and wonder what the hell had just happened.

The second day I was in Rio, I ventured to the outskirts with Ange on a very hot bus to visit her volunteer project. As you go further and further out the conditions of the housing get worse and worse. We had to climb these steep dirt roads covered with big holes and loads of rubbish to get to the school. People looked on in curiosity at these strange people drenched in sweat. The kids were amazing, their faces lit up when they saw Ange and they even were all giving me a hug and shaking my hand. So much poverty and so much happiness.

We played musical chairs for a while, watched the kids doing their gymnastics and passed the parcel. All of them so happy. I asked one girl (who was about 8 years old) who was doing nothing for a dance and she wouldn’t leave my side for the rest of the day. It was really great to see the volunteers doing so much for these kids who otherwise would have nothing.

I ended up going to a few of the favela’s in Rio. The same thing rang true - people with no money, poor conditions and often on the recieving end of heavily unfair treatment from the Police were among the most happiest people i’ve ever met. Pretty surreal though, seeing young kids carrying guns and dealing drugs right in front of you.

The next day we went to Copocabana beach. What a contrast. We paid 10 Reais to sit in the sunlounges out the front of the Copocabana palace hotel. We were given free water, offered platters of fruit and generally treated like the kings that we weren’t. The beach was nice, but too many tourists and thiefs.

We took a 3 hour bus down to Ilha Grande (the big island) after about a week in Rio. A bunch of the volunteers were down there and we’d heard it was a beautiful place. Ilha Grande is as the name says a very big island. We found ourselves a really nice poussada (guesthouse) right near the water in Abrao and went for some cool walks around the island, up to a waterfall and then back down a hill where a completely secluded beach awaited us.

Next we travelled further south-west to Paraty, a beautiful colonial town surrounded by thousands of islands. Here we also went to Trinidade, a beach town 30 minutes away where we met a cool dude called Noom who made all this traditional Peruvian jewellery. Had a chat to him on the beach and he was showing us all of his stuff, I just wanted the wristband he had - but he didn’t have any so he offered to make one for me that day and meet us back in Paraty later that night.

Next we went to Ilha do Mel via Curitiba, some beautiful winding roads through lush mountains. Ilha do Mel was far more secluded than anywhere else we’d been - including an annoying lack of any cash machines. Spent quite a lot of time trying to find somewhere to stay on the island including a funny 30 minutes walking around with two older gay Brazillian guys who were trying to help us.

Plenty of time to relax here. We spent the days on the beach, walked around a bit and ate beautiful local foods. There was only one concern - we’d been trying for a week to change Ange’s flight due to leave the country for sunny England in about 4 days! Not only was there no cash machines on the island, but the single internet place with a telephone charged exhorbitant rates just to ring Rio (where the Iberia airlines offices where) and worse yet no-one at the offices spoke English and even worse yet the connection kept cutting out when we were on hold waiting for an operator. Two anxious days later and we finally spoke to an English speaking person with the amazing news that there was no chance in hell you could change this flight because it is booked out for the next month and there is a huge waiting list. Bugger.

So, Ange has to leave the country in three days, we’re a day away from Rio and all of our plans to travel more through Brazil let alone enjoy some more time on this secluded island are dashed. We ran back to our accomodation, packed, told the owner sorry we couldn’t stay another night as planned and got the first boat back to the mainland. Ange was in shock, I was laughing at her nervously. We lucked out and got the last bus that night from Curitiba to Rio De Janeiro giving us two more days together in Brazil.

We moved into a hostel for that time with a mate of ours from London, Erica. An amazing three storey mansion hostel. It was a bit of a shock to be back in Rio, but we had to make the most of it. We went to the Jardim Botanico (Botanical gardens) to try and see a sloth or toucan, without any luck, beautiful big park in the middle of the city though. One of the highlights of Rio was watching the sun go down on top of the Pao de Acucar (Sugarloaf Mountain) in the heart of the city - the best view in Rio by far and a fitting end to our time together here.

Ange was devastated to leave Brazil the next day, but we promised ourselves to come back again as soon as we can. I was due to leave for London two weeks earlier, but luckily brought it forward by a week. I did a bit of sightseeing after Ange left; the Hippy Market near Ipanema beach, Urugiana market, Samba in Santa Teresa, Reggae in Lapa, spent plenty of time on Ipanema Beach, drank too many beers with my Brazilian mate working at the hostel (Felippe), walked around Santa Teresa admiring some amazing graffiti and the Piece d’resistance: hang-gliding over Rio. I’d blithely said yes to hang-gliding when Erica when she suggested it. The day before I was due to do it I was pretty worried, but by the time I was up there it wasn’t a problem. It was far too easy, I was hooked up to the glider, walked off a ledge and suddenly I was flying hundreds of meters up in the air. We did a few circles over the forest and then angled down towards the high-rises lining the beach. Didn’t even feel much wind resistance. After about 10 minutes we landed on the beach, right above some guy jogging to totally scare the shit out of him. Next time it’s sky-diving.

So.. finally farwell (but not forever) to the beauty of Brazil and time for a 14 hour flight to London Heathrow…