RIO DE JANIERO
THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED
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I start with "This is what happened" because what we plan often changes. By the time I get to fill in these pages, which set out the outline of our trip, with what we ACTUALLY did it can be a million miles from what we thought (or hoped) we were going to do, mainly as a result of last minute better ideas popping up.
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The first few days are no exception. I certainly would not, as a for instance, have forecast that we were planning to attend a football match in football crazy Brazil to watch one of Rio's biggest teams, 'Vasco de Gama' (or 'Vasco' as we supporters call them) play their opening match of the season. Certainly not that we would be taken there by a self-confessed 'Ultra' who plays the drums in the team band, and that we would be seated with the band........... Sara did say she wanted to see a football match, she should have said she just wanted to buy tickets and sit in a stand, like normal people. Too slow! We are with the crazy folk.
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Anyway, scroll back to the start. We left Heathrow on a freezing cold evening on the 10th January fly to Rio de Janiero in a nice Premium Economy seat with British Airways. It was too expensive to fly business this time as air travel seems to have shot up (or we just didn't spot the best deals this time), no matter, we WILL survive.
On arrival we booked into THE GRAND HYATT RIO (£235+bf). By the way, I put hotel/flight prices in for my own interest and historical reference in the years to come, not to boast. My ancestor, Philip Henslowe (1550-1616) wrote his famous diary about his theater in London and it is mainly the prices and accounts that interest scholars today. I am not implying that in 400 years professors will be lovingly examining my website for clues as to how two hobos wandered around the world in 2024, I am just hoping they might.
Back to the plot, our lovely hotel was a fair way outside town in Barra di Tijuca, a very nice beachfront location for three nights to acclimatise. We are hip to the tourist issues - no jewelry, no dangling cameras, no counting out my immense wealth in cash on a street corner in broad daylight, and no getting ripped off by cab drivers.
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We cleared the cab hurdle first. Sara had booked a nice chauffeur driven limo for the airport-hotel leg for £50. I whined like a stuck pig because my research showed that by dragging our luggage from the arrivals terminal to the departures terminal I could blag a normal cab as it was dropping people off and get the trip for £20! So Sara cancelled her car and put the responsibility squarely and firmly on my shoulders. I did not sleep a wink during the 11 hour flight from the worry, or it might have been the really weird Boeing designed chairs which have fixed armrests, so you basically have to stand on the chair to get in and out for a pee, or even to leave the plane once it landed. Christ knows what fat people do? Fly Virgin I guess. I was therefore very relieved when my cab trick worked a treat!!
As you can see Bara de Tijuca is a bit Benidorm. In fact Sara's description of even the world famous Copacabana Beach was "It;s a bit like sitting in a very sandy and sunny Rochester Market". Which is a comment on the number and variety of things being offered, sold, hyped, and cooked for locals who seem to spend their life on the beach, just eating and drinking. Rio is not a tourist town, most of the people you see live here, or at least - live on the beach!
The plan was to chill by the pool for a day or so, get a bit of sun, and slowly go more local as we get used to the pace of things. This visit to Rio will cover all the touristy things as we will be back for the carnival later in the trip.
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Acclimatisation completed we did our first planning meeting. We needed to book flights to IGUAZU FALLS which were fine back in December, not quite so fine a week out (one of the minor drawbacks of our lastminute.henslow method of travel). But we persevered for three hours and managed to book more or less on budget, just a couple of days later than intended. Plus Carnival tickets had gone up by 25% so we booked those too (a snip at £333 each for a seat in Block 9, the only one with reserved seats). Planning meeting over, we headed into town to hold a hotel beauty parade, visiting several, demanding to look at rooms, drink in their bar, and generally making a total f'ing nuisance of ourselves at dead on check-in time, but finally Sara does a demon deal at THE MIRAMA BY WINDSOR on Copacabana Beach (£180 incl bf), right on the front.
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Right on the front here means fronting onto a six lane highway, then a promenade about 50m wide and THEN the beach. Which is packed, packed, packed all day long with locals who appear to get up in the morning, take off their pajamas, fold them neatly, slip into a revealing thong (irrespective of whether they are beach-body-ready or not) and walk through town virtually naked with a deckchair held in one hand and a plastic bag of food and water in the other. Hundreds of naked people all heading down normal (but quite scruffy) town streets from several blocks back. Very odd. Some fit the stereotype of Copacabana/Ipanema, quite a lot don't being nearer the XXL end of the scale, but it's a worldwide thing nowadays I guess. They then sit there until it gets dark and all they do all day is sit under an umbrella and EAT. Hence the XXL I guess.
Once settled we do another quick planning lesson and plan touristy stuff. Visit Christ The Redeemer and Sugar Loaf Mountain (the number one must do in Rio, of the 4-5 things, its a nice town but not not over-endowed with things to do). Number two for us is visit the poor people in a Favela, not something to do alone so we book a guide. Number three is to go behind the scenes at Carnival to see the floats and costumes being made. All booked so its out on the town for some scoff.
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Multiple warnings about not walking around - which we ignore. I mean seriously, Cariocans (people of Rio) can't all be murderous thieves surely?? After a nice walk through darken streets with quite a number of crazies we decide we MIGHT use cabs a bit more in the dark. Rio in the dark is a LITTLE sketchy. We understand later that this because they keep their slums right in the centre of town, in the many Favelas. Most major cities keep the poor people on the outskirts. Not Rio. Here we all exist in roughly the same space. So UBER rules.
So Monday 15th Jan dawns beautifully clear after a week of clouds - which is super useful as we are going up mountains were the main attraction is the view. Great guide, great visits, early enough to miss the crowds but still eight hours in 35 degrees, but we are made of stern stuff so we soldier on - me sweating, Sara sneezing (as she is coming down with something poor thing). Up hill and down dale and these are the pics.
I know the pic above looks weird but it is a vertical panorama, or somesuch trick.
As you can see it was a glorious day all round. Brilliant sights and very well organised. Plus we learned loads from our guide, including the fact that the apartment we have booked for Carnival week in February in the trendy and hilly artists district of Santa Teresa is bordered by three Favelas and so walking round at night is apparently not advised, huh! See if that stops us!
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Anyway Tuesday dawns and we are off to a Favela - so bring it on! We meet our guide Pedro at a petrol station just outside the Favela called Santa Marta. Great little guy who lives there, covered in tattoos, bundle of energy. Up we go into the Favela at 35 degrees in the shade. Just Pedro and us. They use a cable car to climb the unbelievably steep hillside and at the first cable car stop we meet our first heavily armed locals. We are not talking a pistol in a belt, we are talking full blown assault rifle with a sniper-scope, hard core.. Pedro explains that these are great guys, old mates from school, but UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES TAKE PICTURES! The big one only killed 15 people, but he has served his time and is a cool guy BUT NO PICTURES!!!!
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After this interesting start, and other interesting meetings with other guys carrying similar stolen military spec machine guns we really, really enjoy the visit, walking hundreds of meters down the hillside through a maze of houses with Pedro explaining that 99% of the inhabitants of Favelas are lovely law abiding people. I tell him that Kier Starmer thinks 99% of women don't have penises, but unfortunately the 1% of women with massive cocks cause almost 99% of the trouble, he agrees with me and reminds me - NO PICTURES!!!
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We are allowed some shots as long as no local is in them. So here they are.
This Favela has a population of 6,000 so it is on the small side. About the size of Harrietsham and Lenham combined, but without the pubs, shops, surgery, schools - and refuse collection and sewers. To mention but a few of the differences, but it houses people who service Rio, and keeps them inside Rio on the cheap.
During our chats with Pedro it becomes clear he is an ULTRA, a hard line supporter of one of Rio's top football teams, Vasco di Gama or 'Vasco' to us supporters. Sara, in a chatty way, says "I would quite like to go to a football match, I have heard Brazilian matches are great fun". Pedro is amazed and within minutes we are booked for the opening match of the season on Thursday with his group of mates who also take the big drums into the stadium and bang them like loonies throughout the match. Pedro tells us to wear club colours - black. Should be an experience!! He even subtlety inquires if Sara would smuggle some flares into the stadium hidden in her long hair but she demurrers (sissy). Pedro doesn't ask me because my hair is white, which is apparently a colour they all dye their hair for New Year, so I am already dead on trend!
That night we go to a restaurant and my white trendy hair is rewarded!! A man in his 40's sitting near us comes over and engages me in a long conversation in Portuguese. I apologise and say "Nao entendo". He keeps waffling on and staring into my blue/grey eyes and admiring my trendy white hair. I type in Google translate that I don't have dicky bird about what he is is on about. He goes away and sits down with his translator and comes back with "You are a very sexy man!!" I introduce him to my wife Sara. He ignores Sara and sits down at our table and professes undying love for me, offers me a nice life, lovely clothes, all in Portuguese (so I am guessing slightly) but I am sure I got his drift. Sara explained that we were married. I, on the other hand, asked for time to think about his offer. Sara made him a better offer along the lines of rearranging his teeth for free and our short-lived romance came to an abrupt end with a lovely hug and a kiss on my cheek. I felt he was a true Portuguese gentleman, Sara thought he was a drunken arse. I went home on a cloud - a very sexy man indeed! Still got it! In spades! Its the white hair matched to an unusually red face, gets them every time.
Me and my best chance of a new life away from the cares and woes of living a lie in England. Blown!
A new start, new clothes, new car, sore bottom, but all gone because I lacked the backbone to make the leap of faith whatshisname was hoping for. Obviously I had to apologise to Sara for my apparent enthusiasm and luckily she forgave me. Still got it though!
The next day dawned really hot and humid with even the locals moaning, and because we are coming back to Rio for the Carnival we were off to see where the carnival floats are made and learn more about carnie history, where amazingly we were joined by Julie, an elderly English lady who was brought up in a circus and was an 'aerialist' (trapeze artist to you).
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I was not really interested in Julia's input, I just wanted to try on the hats. I bought the hat in the photo so expect to see me down the pub in it in the not too distant future., They told me the pink feathers bring out my natural colour.
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The floats are ginormous! Humongous! About the width of a four lane road. One of just a thousand reasons why we could never do this in London, apart from any Carnival clashing with 'Free Palestine' marches which would obviously take preference. The floats are so big they would only just be able to get down the Mall. Again a strict NO PICTURES rule. In the Favela this was to stop you getting shot. Here it was to avoid one of the other top 12 teams nicking your float theme and designs.
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On the bright side we were allowed into the dressing up box to make fools of ourselves and we also had a Samba lesson. So TWO chances to make fools of ourselves. I grabbed both.
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We have also been invited by Pedro, our Favela guide to join him at Carnival at some of the 'Blocos' which are street parties run by the locals during Carnival, apparently they are the REAL carnival, not the touristy shit. Once again this is off the beaten track stuff - so we are SO going to join him!
Which indeed we did the following day. He came good on his promise to take us to the football game and arrangements were duly made. Met another English couple who had taken his Favela tour and got together at the stadium. Us, with Dave and Sarah (Dave is an Aston Villa supporter, only goes to away matches, so hard core) and with the aid of GPS 'Share my location' found our Pedro with a crowd of his dope smoking mates and we lurked about for an hour or so scoring tickets from the touts before climbing up to those flags you see above, where the big drums bang and the total loons all stand. Or rather they don't stand. They sway. wave, sing, shout, sweat, smell, and find it mildly amusing that some white folk are there too. Pedro had gone drumming by this time so in the packed environment we were well and truly reminded that if we stood with these guys we fucking sang and waved our arms, no slacking! Lots of "Vasco, da dum de dum, Vasco, be bum de bum wassol" Not at clue what we were singing but if I stopped this big bird behind me whacked me round the ear as a reminder, along with the flag waver clouting me on the bonce every third wave. Football!
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After half time we made the chicken (sensible) move down to a quieter, safer, less singy/wavy sort of area and then did what all pathetic plastic (sensible) football supporters do, we left 15 minutes before the end to blag a cab. Pedro sent plaintive messages begging us to stay - but he was as high as a kite anyway and we had beers waiting at the hotel. I sent him his tip via PayPal, mainly because we need him again to get to see the raw side of carnival in a few weeks time, so I need him on side. Trying to find a 'Bloco party' is hard enough, keeping hold of wallet, watch, spectacles and testicles maybe even harder without a streetwise guide!!
On our last day in Rio Sara was feeling a bit under the weather with a cold so I went for a city centre stroll. It ended up as five mile hike at around midday in 35 degrees of direct sunlight. Thank goodness for a hat and factor 30.
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Checked out our carnival apartment, no problems despite our first guide saying it was a dodgy area.. It is lovely, just make sure you don't veer off the roads with tram tracks. The trams don't run in the slums, so trams = safe. I only made one Google related mistake and smiled politely as I navigated my way through a ladyboy encampment under some arches, but hey-ho. Its daylight.
26.000 capacity stadium, no seats, no barriers, no rules. Just like the old days and bloody loud and sweaty, as you can see. VIDEO VOLUME - If you want true sound experience volume control is the little sign on bottom right of all vids in this blog. Just tap the vid to see it.
And so that was our first visit to Rio. 7 million population, out of 215 million in the country. A lot of Brazilians, bearing in mind the fuss just 145 million Russians make and Russia has 45% of its population over 45 - Brazil just 10%, no wonder they have more world class footballers.
A busy town, reasonably clean but a bit rough round the edges with a really mixed population, poor folk living right in the central areas due to the Favelas, so it is possible to walk into a slum by mistake, which appears to be the biggest concern for visitors. Personally I think in daylight you are fine, nigh time - not so much. It will be fascinating to see what it is like when when we come back for Carnival. But we sort of know the ropes now. As a town, not much to see once you've done the mountains and the beaches, but they alone are 100% gold plated 'tick that box'stuff so well worth it. Hot, humid, and friendly. Can't ask for much more on a holiday.