A few days of chilling out in a Brazilian paradise ensured we were ready for reputedly one of the most exciting, energetic cities in the world. Rio’s reputation precedes it, conjuring up images of the extravagant carnival, the glamorous bronzed bodies strutting along the Copacabana and the energy, colour and harsh reality of the favelas. For some reason though, these images are, in my mind anyway, always accompanied by by bluebird skies and that bright yellow globe I am sure I recall from some distant memory.
On an overcast day, Rio choose not show us her full glory. All the same, we were not disappointed. Our few days began with a brief tour of the city – no pussyfooting about, we were straight down to business with a short drive up the infamous Corcadova – a mountain in the heart of downtown Rio, better know for its most famous resident – Christ the Redeemer. He stands tall, facing the rising sun and the entrance to the bay. Built as a symbol of the strong Christian faith in Brazil and positioned atop the high point of the city, he was to be the the first sight that the returning ships would see. Interestingly, Rio de Janiero was so named because of a huge geographical misconception. Early spanish explorers passing by the bay on the first of January many moons ago, mistakenly assumed that the complex network of headlands and coves was actually a river mouth and hence the city came to be named the River of January – ooops!
Rio is an incredible mish mash of mountains and beaches, with the sprawling favellas climbing up the hillsides, while downtown the city skyline grows ever taller. And yet, it is beautiful, chaotic, but beautiful. It should not all fit together, but somehow it works and just standing there at the feet of the Christ, you understand why he is where he is, with the city at his feet, to watch over and protect this stunning city.
Moving towards the Brazilian equivalent of Camden, Lapa. Lapa is where the trendy people hang out, the artists, the spiritual hippies, the night clubbing tourists. For us, the brief stop in Lapa was to take in one of the most colourful sights in Rio (and that means seriously colourful). Some years ago, a Chilean artist by the name Selaron began what would become a life’s work. He began to cover an entire staircase in colourful tiles. Now, almost 20 years later, there are
tiles from all corners of the earth which have, over the course of almost 2 decades taken the place of the original green, blue and yellow tiles. It is an incredible site, more incredible still when, strolling up the steps, you pass the man himself, sitting there, chatting, taking it all in, seemingly oblivious or at least unaffected by the fact that his work has now become one of the biggest tourist attractions in Rio – now included in the city tour with Christ the Redeemer and the Sugar Loaf mountain. Not bad company to keep Senor Selaron. And it is beautiful – I could have wandered up and down those stairs for hours wondering at where this incredible variety of tiles came from. But, as has so often been the case on this trip, time ran out.
Our next stop was at what I can only describe as simultaneously the most ugly and most beautiful building I have even seen. The cathedral is a bizzare looking building, no question. It looks like an ugly version of the beehive (the parliament building in Wellington), it is a huge block of cement, with layers like a can-can dancers skirt … well, see for yourself.
It is admittedly, fairly hideous. Step inside however, and it is a different story entirely. The high walls, caving in slightly on you as you enter meet to create this huge open space – it was the second time in a short number of days that something had made me feel insignificant. The walls are made of overlapping cement slabs, making the building appear enclosed, but actually when you walk inside, it becomes clear that each layer of cement, shelters the cathedral from the elements, just the cement, no glass, no plastic, no curtain. It gives the huge building a strangely airy and open feeling. The darkness created by the concrete punctuated by the brightly coloured mosaic stained glass windows which run the height of the building on four sides. This building is the greatest advocate for the old expression “never judge a book by its cover”.
Our final stop of the day was to the Sugar loaf mountain. Unfortunately the promised views did not materialise for the most part,thanks to a thick blanket of cloud. It gave the whole trip a sort of Hallowe’en-y feel, like those dark evenings in October and November, when the fog comes in and you can see your own breath and the only light is an eerie glow emanating fromthe orange street lights. We travelled up the mountain in style in the once state of the art cable car, stopping at the half way point for a brief look around. The odd clear patch provided us with glimpses of the city, its lagoon and even some sunny beaches! The second cable car took us quite literally through the clouds and reaching the top of the mountain we were almost above it all…… almost. Desperate for some warmth I made a bee line for the gift shop … not for the first time, I cursed the air conditioning!
Eventually though, we did get a few sustained breaks in the cloud, conveniently, just in time for sunset. Despite the baltic temperatures, you could not help but stand and watch Rio fade in and out through the gaps in the cloud, the city made even more beautiful by the pallet of reds and oranges forming the backdrop, with Christ the Redeemer overlooking it all.
As if day one was not hectic enough, we followed it up with an even busier day. Sunday saw us visit Rochina, the biggest favella in Rio de Janiero, with over 300,000 people living there in conditions ranging from basic to squalid. Our guide began with the expected warnings – you may see guns, don’t buy drugs, common sense stuff really. Reality kicked in when she warned that those carrying weapons might be kids as young as 10 or 11. As we walked around though, it became quite clear that although notorious for all the wrong reasons, Rochina is just another town, another community, with its own difficulties, its own warts, but also with its own sense of community! It is difficult for someone like me to understand how a community run by drug lords and weapons traders can function, how people can be happy in a place with overflowing open sewers, deposits of rotting rubbish and rife with poverty and corruption. But they are. They may live by an inconventional set of rules, but while it may be an exaggeration to say it works, it certainly functions.
Leaving Rochina behind, we headed straight for the Marcana (football buffs, I apologise for probably getting the nname wrong!) stadium on the other side of Rio, set to watch local favourites Flamengo take on Cortiba. Luckily for us, the local boys did the job, defeating the visitors by a convincing three goals to nil. Move over Jackie’s army (or Trap’s army, or whatever we are these days), Brazilian fans know how to rock a stadium. From start to finish they sang, shouted, cheered and jeered, all the time willing their boys to convert their energy into goals! The flares burned all through the game and we even witnessed some samba esque dancing through the corridors of the stadium as the Flamengo fnas prepared to dance into the night. Unfortunately, we could not join them, we had some dancing of our own to do.
A morning in Rochina, an afternoon at the football, what else was there to do, but party with the locals. So we hit the road for another favela where we joined the locals at the sunday night favela party. Booties shook, hips swayed (and that was just the tourists!). So, after a hard day, we partied the night away (and most of the next morning) arriving back in Rio shortly before daybreak for a few badly needed hours sleep. When we did eventually surface, it was just in time for a short walk to Ipanema before we had to say goodbye to our welsh friends who were about to make the long journey back to Wales!
It was hard to believe that the trip was almost at an end. We had just three days left before our big adventure concluded. Determined to make the most of it before reality bit once more, we spent the days relaxing, strolling around Copacabana, indulging in tasty local food, eating ourselves silly at the many all you can eat buffet restaurants, running along the beach front, and sampling the tasty local brew! A hard life it was not, but with mixed emotions about the journey home, a few days to contemplate the return to reality and to reminisce about the past 8 months was welcome; all the adventures, the trials, the highs and lows. But, we were determined to savour every last minute, make our last few days count and what better place to do that than beautiful Rio.
