Petropolis & the mountains

I needed a break from Rio for a while, as I felt like I was stagnating. I’d seen everything I wanted to see and had ants in my pants. The plans mentioned in my previous post were kind of still developing at this stage, so didn’t have a clear idea of what my moves were. All I knew was that I wanted to get out of Rio, with the possibility of being in Rio for Carnival. So I went to Petropolis (1 hour by bus north of Rio).

Day 1:
I took the bus from Adriana’s house to the rodoviaria. It was stinking hot and the bus I took, didn’t have AC! Asking directions in my broken Portuguese got me on a bus in 10min. It seems all the long distance busses have AC & a toilet. As we started to climb into the mountains I realised that the weather would be much different in Petropolis, as there were clouds hanging over the mountains. A nice break from Rio’s heat, I thought.

Petropolis is the city where the rich people used to live during the summer. Today, accommodation is not cheap in the city’s centre. So I was aiming for the cheapest hotel, closest to the historic centre. On the local bus to the city’s centre, I asked a local lady to tell me when we were at a fairly central Plaza. From there I would walk to the hotel I had in mind. Not a bad strategy, unless it starts to rain hard just as you have to get off the bus. And there was no proper bus stop where I was getting off, so no cover from the rain. But I made it to a shelter a short distance off. With my backpack’s rain cover in place, I set off looking for a bed.

After sorting out my room and leaving my stuff there, I went looking for a local hangout to get a beer (wasn’t very hungry at this time). I ended up in a small place on the outskirts of the centre and within minuets the locals were chatting to me. They were friendly and we were having a chat. Me in my broken Portuguese and the ones of them who could, in a combination of broken English and Portuguese. A hot girl had come in and was drinking a beer, alone. At some point, one of the guys dragged her into the conversation. She didn’t seem very interested at first, but later all of us were having a nice chat. Her name was Alisandra and hardly spoke a word of English. At one point I got the great idea of using Google Translate to communicate, which worked well until the internet died. Damn. Before leaving she told me that she has a bar in Correas (pronounced “Ko-hey-as”) and that I should come around the next night.
By this time the guys I had met had left (one old guys was trying to chat up Alisandra, the other just disappeared), but two ladies appeared on the scene. Vivian (a lawyer) and Laura (who had a small restaurant 5 doors down and invited me around the next day).
Knowing some locals, it was time to go home. I wanted to get an early start & go to Itaipava the next day, followed by Terresopolis the next.

Day 2:
Petropolis is a nice town with beautiful buildings and big channels that run through the town. It wasn’t raining the next day, so this time I could enjoy the sites. I packed in all the touristy places in during the morning. I’ve seen many museums and cathedrals in my life, so these weren’t on top of my list. The most interesting was the summer home of Santos Dumont which according to Brazil, was the first person to fly. He was an inventor, but with a love for aviation. He designed his own home with a couple of nicely thought out details. Like stairs that are cut with a curve to prevent him from hitting his shins when using them and his dinner table with a cut-out on the right side to make serving by a waiter easier (his house is directly across from what used to be the hotel, so he had no kitchen). He also had the first hot & cold shower in South America.

After all the sights, I had to check out of the hotel. So I took my backpack to Laura’s restaurant and had lunch. Nice people. First her daughter and then son, kept me company while I ate. Both of them speak a bit of English, while Laura does not. Tummy full, I set off for Itaipava which is supposed to be a nice place. Not going to have a girl control my travels, I was going to sleep in Itaipava and in Terresopolis (a good start to walk in the close by nature reserve) the next.

Itaipava didn’t have much that impressed me. One long road running though it, with shops either side. Nothing that really tickled me. It was getting a bit late (5pm) and I had a decision to make. Push on the Terresopolis or head back to the safety of Petropolis? I like a challenge. Terresopolis it would be. One thing I should mention. Terresopolis is about 90min away from Itaipava.

Terresopolis sustained a lot of damage from the recent floods. I knew this, but the city didn’t look too bad while driving through it. Just didn’t have a good feeling about the place. I saw two Pousadas (house converted to a hotel) on my way in, but by the time I arrived at the rodoviaria (bus station) it was dark, any sign of information was closed and I seriously looked like a tourist. Easy pickings for any thief. Having to think quick on my feet as the last bus going back to Petropolis was leaving in 10min. I had a quick look around and summed this place up as trouble. Back on the bus, pissed off with myself, I was heading back to the same place where I had slept the previous night.

Day 3:
Having done some thinking and soul searching on the bus last night, I was not going to rush any more. Slept late, have some coffee on a plaza, lunch at Laura’s again. Today was Friday so a trip to Alisandra’s bar would be nice. I took a bus to Correas and started the hunt. I wasn’t sure what the bar’s name was, didn’t know where it was and didn’t have Alisandra’s number. It appears that I enjoy doing this adventure stuff :) Fortunately Laura gave me some directions to where she thought the bar was. I was sure some bar owners would know Alisandra. Everyone knows a hot, female bar owner. The first bar I asked knew what place I was talking about.

Alisandra was not, but had apparently told Anna (the bar lady) about me :) Anna told me to wait and that Alisandra would be along shortly. Once again the people were friendly. Behind me was sitting Edgard & his wife, Carmen. Edgard was a retired notary and the three of us had a great time. I told them about my trip, which Edgard translated to others listening. Alisandra did eventually arrive, but since she had a boyfriend and couldn’t really speak English I kept my attention with the current group.

Edgard and Carmen wanted to go to bed early as both had class the next day, language classes if I can remember correctly. But by now we were on a role. Leandro, a labour lawyer friend of Edgard arrived later. Eventually it was just Leandro and me left. By this time the party was getting some real momentum., but knowing that I had to catch a bus back to Petropolis I called it quits at 00:00. Leandro was also leaving and was kind enough to give me a lift…to the door of my hotel.

Day 4:
Feeling a bit worse for wear, I dragged myself out of bed to breakfast. COFFEE!!! I couldn’t hang around too long as I had to get to Rio for the Carnival rehearsals. So I packed my bags and headed for the rodoviaria with happy memories of new friends

Locals I met on my first night. A little crazy!

Sights in Petropolis: Carriages – garden of the Imperial Museum – Outside the Imperial Museum (it was closed when I was there)

An eye specialist in town – a residence – one of the channels (these must’ve been full during the flood)

House of Santos Dumont: Front – back (see the “observatory”) – designer stairs – 14 Bis (the plane in which Santos Dumont flew

Before my trek (day2) – there are lots of stray dogs in town – lunch in Itaipava - Laura

Carnival plans

Carnival is a big deal in Rio…if not all across the world. I was hoping to go south earlier to miss the cold weather of Patagonia, but I’ve been convinced by friends to stay. However, I’m not able to sit around and wait for Carnival. So I planned a couple of trips to places fairly close to Rio to overlap the weeks in between the Carnival weekends.

Tickets to the actual Carnival “show” (held in the Sambadromo, or Samba stadium) are hard to come by this close to the event. The affordable ones at least. There are many rehearsals for the actual event this close to Carnival. These rehearsals are held in the Sambadromo, but no costumes are worn. This is as close as I would be able to get to the actual “show” (its more of a competition. Google it).

So to incorporate Carnival into my trip without sitting around for a long time, the plan is as follows: Go to the mountain region of Petropolis the week before rehearsals (post to follow), back to Rio for rehearsals, the week in between go to Ouro Preto & the historic cities close by, then finally back to Rio for Carnival (Saturday & Sunday). The last two days of Carnival (Monday & Tuesday) I’ll go with Adriana to Correas (just outside Petropolis) where a friend of her has a house. ACTION PACKED STUFF!!!

Learning the hard way…again

So today was a lesson in how not to travel. I’m quite pissed at myself as I write this. So I’m creating these rules for travelling (these should’ve been apart of PPPPPP, but hindsight is 20/20).

Rule #1 (Chris’ rule): Pack light! I knew this before leaving SA as this is the one thing that my dad preaches about travelling, but today was the “re-awakening”! Lets call it “Chris’ rule”. I’m typing in the bus on my back to Petropolis where I spent last night (I’ll get to that). What am I doing carrying a netbook with me while travelling???!!!! There were three reasons: Keep you informed (via this blog) of my adventure, use it as a backup of & potentially edit photos on my trip and music (MP3 player). Today I’m not convinced this was a good decision. I’ll re-evaluate at the end.
I currently have 4 books with me (2x Travel guides, a novel and a Bible). What are books made of? Wood = heavy! The tow travel guides compliment each other well. The first is one I purchased in the beginning of 2010 (Footprint’s South American Handbook 2010). I find it has fairly good maps of the major places, great maps of the countries and the continent. The detail provided is also great, but I don’t find it inspiring to read. The second was given to me as a birthday present by Deon & Sonja (The Rough Guide to South America on a Budget), thanks guys! I have motivation to travel after reading this one. Its maps are sadly lacking (shows major cities, but no overall map of the continent. Make broad planning difficult), but it does point out the cheapest places (which I guess is the idea). I feel it gives enough detail without spoiling the adventure of exploring. The way I am feeling now, I’m thinking of cutting the maps out of Footprint and donating the rest to a backpackers. Not that it is a bad guide, just choosing the one I prefer. The weight is just too much, which is really my fault.
I’m sure I have too many clothes. I’ll be sorting through them tomorrow morning when I’m not tired from carrying a big bag around. I’ll re-evaluate my clothes tonight, but I’m sure I have too much. My bag is pretty full.
I’ve got a tent with me, which I was planning to use when I travelled by motorbike through South America. Since this isn’t happening anymore, should I still keep it? And what about my camping mattress? Its not heavy, just bulky & usually used with the tent.
I’m REALLY glad I got a small & light sleeping bag. Works well.
I have a light hammock & mosquito net. Will see how handy these are later.
Medical supplies are a must, so even going to question them.
Bottom line: If one object weighs around 1kg, think whether you REALLY need it. At the moment I’m not even carrying food should I want to hike for 3 days.

Rule #2: Learn the local language! Not being able to ask for directions is disastrous! Fortunately I can make myself understood in this respect. Not being able to chat about what you’re doing in the country, what you do back home, whether you are married (jip a girl asked me :) ) or that it is your round, is problematic. As I am a nice guy & very friendly, I have a way of charming people to get my way (some local advice, a bed to crash on, quickly slip into an exhibit without paying, etc.). Impossible at the moment!

Rule #3: When going to a new town/city, make sure you get there early! If possible, just after lunch. I could get away with this in Germany for two reasons: I could communicate & there were many affordable hostels that were well advertised. Not the case where I am now. I am on my way back to Petropolis for this precise reason! I was planning to go to Teresopolis tonight, but got going SO late from Pertopolas (left @15:00) that I arrived there in the dark (I stopped in Itaipava as well, but due to lack of info & bad planning I couldn’t find a bed there). Now I had to make a desision: Stay & hope to find a bed (I passed 1 or 2 on the way in, but not sure where they are located) in the dark…with a backpack & daypack…looking like a tourist…I’d be looking for shit! So in the last bus was leaving in 10min, which I got on. The only plus side is that I got to take a scenic ride to Teresopolis. The way was dark, hence why I’m typing this.
Don’t be a victim! You have been warned.

That concludes my rant for now. Hopefully my misjudgement today doesn’t bite me later.

Pre Carnival block party

Before (and I think during) Carnival there are block parties. These are held in the various areas of the city where a Samba band is the centre of the party. By this time they are in full swing. Yesterday I went for lunch with Adriana & two of her sisters in Barra de Tijuca. The youngest, Gabriella, was going to a block party that night and invited my & Hannes (sailing buddy) along. So we go home & left everything of value behind, since petty crime is a reality at these events.

The party was close to the city’s centre, in Larangeiras. Gabriella’s best friend Bruno met us there, but by this time he was pretty inebriated as he had been drinking since lunch (according to him). I have been told, by many people, that Carnival’s main attraction for the locals is not the “parade”, Samba & costumes. Rather it is the party & “Beijinios” (Kisses). As I understand it, it is normal to walk up to a girl during Carnival (and of course block parties), chat her up & then full on snog. All within 2min, if you are smooth!

The party was held in a square with the band in the middle, playing traditional Carnival Samba. By the time we arrived, the party was in full swing. Its a nice vibe. Honestly, I was a bit daunted by the whole thing…remember, I’m short. Usually taller people try to push me out of the way to get through, so I have to stand my ground. Not really the way you want to spend you evening. The people’s attitude is different here. They are more polite, not always in what they say, but in how they conduct themselves. It took me about an hour or two to acclimatise, and eventually I could properly enjoy the party.

Beer is sold everywhere. Getting rid of the beer is the big problem. I commandeered a close by VET’s bathroom rather than use a tree and potentially get locked up.

By now you are probably wondering about the “Beijinios”? I know my friends too well :) At the end of my first beer, Bruno was on top form. I was encouraged to give it a whirl. My biggest enemy was myself. Apparently I look and sound like a Carioca. So as soon as I said “hi”, I’m all out of Portuguese conversation. Switching to English confuses the girl, because in her eyes I’m local. Damn! So now she won’t believe that I’m from South Africa….and no kiss :( This went on for most of the night.

The band stopped playing at 19:00 (it was Sunday after all), but people were still hanging around. The party only showed signs of dispersing by 20:00. By this time we were able to chat to some girl & convince them that we were “strangeiros” (foreigners). As Gabriella had class in the morning, she & Bruno (who was now properly pissed, but not unable to get “Beijinios”) left. Hannes & I were invited for beer, by two girls (who can speak English), and how do you say “no” to that :) Much later after many beers we all went home…separate homes :)

All in all, a great night!

The motorcycle debacle – Purchasing a motorcycle in Brazil

Some of you might know this story, others I’ve told its coming to the blog. I haven’t had the energy to explain this to everyone individually. Sorry. So from the beginning, here it is:

Before I left SA I had the desire to travel South America by motorbike (no the "motorcycle diaries” was not my inspiration, rather Top Gear’s Vietnam special). So I did some research which was sadly lacking, as Brazil was not part of my plan. I was originally going to land in Argentina. What I DO know about Argentina. You can’t buy a motorcycle in Argentina, as a non-permanent resident, and take it out of the country. So I was looking at buying in Chile.

The plan was then to travel by following my nose around the southern half of South America. I like to follow my nose while travelling, which is not really possible when travelling my bus. I would then focus on sleeping at campsites as I figured I would be able to save money & thus stretch my travelling time.

On arrival I started making inquiries about how to purchase a bike & take it across borders. Shortly after arriving in Brazil, Nick introduced me to Adriana (she’s a Carioca). She has a friend, Rodrigo, who has done such a trip. Unfortunately she couldn’t get hold of him at the time. I had the idea of going to the South African consulate as I’m sure they would be able to help me. I walked there and by the time I arrived, they were officially closed. Fortunately the lady working there, Anne, was VERY helpful. I explained what I was planning to do. She didn’t have the right information, but told me that the tourist police could help me. She translated a couple of key sentences for me (English & Portuguese) and even phoned the Uruguayan consulate to hear what I need to cross the border. I need a Carte Verde (Green card :) but like travel insurance) She couldn’t give me more info that that. So, with directions, translations and some info I was off.
At the tourist police I was helped by Bruno. Once again very helpful. I got told that the organisation that I needed to contact was Detran (their equivalent or our traffic department). He also told me where I could have a look at 2nd hand bikes (in an area in the north of Rio, called Vila Vaqueire. The street is Intendente Magalhaes). Apparently it is one long street with 2nd hand car & bike dealers all along it. Ok, so now I knew where to get a bike. Oh yes, I forgot to mention. I had a look at a new Suzuki & Honda 125cc delivery bike. Even though these bikes are manufactured in Brazil, taxes are so high that the Suzuki was R$ 5000 and the Honda R$ 6000. At the current exchange rate, that puts them at between R 25 000 and R 30 000! Hence why I was looking at the second hand option.

Next day I went to the Detran offices close to Leblon. No English speaking people there, but the lady pointed me in the direction of another branch. I assumed that someone there would be able to speak English. It turned out the new place was the place where vehicle registration is done. There was one guy that spoke English and he was the first person in this quest of mine that didn’t seem very helpful. Got some info though.
To register a vehicle on my name I need the following: RG (Identification), CPF (social security number, eish), a residential address (apparently I don’t need proof of this, but I would get a letter from Adriana just in case) and CRV (the vehicle’s papers). RG & residence = not a problem. CRV = when I get the bike. Ok, but what is this CPF? The guys sent me to Detran Sede (headquarter) in Av. President Vargas for this info.

Detran Sede has a special unit just to help foreigners on the 2nd floor. Only 2 of the 5 people speak English there. The boss and a new girl. You can think that the boss doesn’t want to deal with everyone so I got the new girl (only found that out later). She explained things well (asking the boss quite often). Getting the CPF is a little more involved. Go to the federal police and apply for a SINCRE (all my info: Where I’m from, where I live, what I do, who my parents are, the whole shebang). At the same time I apply for a RNE (permanent version of the SINCRE). SINCRE = a couple of days. RNE = 2- 6 months. The SINCRE allows me to apply for the CPF at a bank, which shouldn’t take long (maybe while you wait, but no longer than 2 days). On top of all that I have to have my license professionally translated as police are very strict in Brazil. Any problem with my paperwork & they would confiscate my bike. I also got given a list of my rights (in Portuguese) should I be pulled over. The brutality of the police is well know in Brazil and they walk around with assault rifles! This is not what you want to hear if you are a tourist wanting to possibly mingle with the cops by buying a bike.
Great now I know how to register a vehicle on my name, but how do I take it across borders? Apparently I need a DRV. The same as Carte Verde? To find out, I needed to go to the 6th floor.Things were tricky up to this point. Getting info & communicating, but now it became practically impossible & the first mountainous hurdle I encountered as no-one on this floor spoke English. After trying to explain what info I was after, in broken Portuguese & hand signals to the only person who literally understood 10 words of English, the boss from the 2nd floor was called. Now she was helpful. I couldn’t get any more info on the DRV. She said that it wouldn’t be a problem as long as I brought a translator along.

By this time I was close to depressed. Asking for a coffee in a street side bar is ok, but speaking to officials about vehicle registration was impossible. FUCK! So my options were as follows: Got though with a purchase (Adriana was willing to help to translate) and hope I get nice cops (not likely). And what about at border crossings? When I get back, selling the bike? This felt like a huge gamble! In a country where I could communicate, I would definitely give it a shot!
The other option is to drop the bike idea and bus it. This looks like the sane option at the moment. Needles to say that this is not really what I had in mind. So I need to re-evaluate my plans…again.

Some other options have been suggested or come to the fore. Try to do this in Uruguay. Do a trip from the USA. Whatever I do, I NEED to learn the local language before I try this again. So much time dreaming before the trip, but no enough time preparing. I’m used to be able to travel “by the seat of my pants”, but only possible if you can communicate.

Corcovado & Sugarloaf

Two of the iconic images of Rio are Christo Rendentor (Christ the Redeemer) onto of Corcovado and Sugarloaf mountain. To be honest, by this time I was a bit knackered from the heat, lack of sleep on the yacht and the social atmosphere that reigned among the sailors :) However tired I was, I was not going to miss out on seeing these places.

Corcovado
We got complimentary tickets to Corcovado, but there was a catch. We had to be on the first tram up the mountain. I went with Ricky & Paco, but I missed them the previous day. So I had no idea whether they were able to pick up the comps from the YC office. Ricky woke me up at 7am & we decided to take a chance and just go there.

Some of the Indian navy guys were already there (they planned properly) and they had already put the ball on the roll. Ticket in hand, we made our way up the very steep slope. I don’t get motion sickness, but I think the prize giving food did not agree with me. So I was not a happy camper. Fortunately I survived.

The top is nice, just very tourist orientated. Everyone is taking photos like crazy! Kodak or Fuji must have paid off factories in the past with the revenue from film…just from Rio! Of course I couldn’t come up here and not take a photo (damn I felt like a tourist). What was a nice surprise was the chapel that is build into the base of the statue (no photographs allowed inside). Corcovado….check.

They guys – Tram of destiny

Inside the tram

  
Money shot – From the shadows – The hands & head were the only parts that were brought up in once piece during construction

  

Views: Sugarloaf – Over Leblon, in the direction of Barra de Tijuca

    
Paco & Ricky – Entrance to the chapel, in the base of the statue

 

Sugarloaf
I didn’t go up Sugarloaf on the same day due the my health problem mentioned above. A couple of days later I was feeling much better & to miss the heat of the day went up in the late afternoon. You can’t walk up to the summit, should you wish (unlike Corcovado which you can do by walking through the slums). You have to take two cable cars, similar to Table Mountain except it doesn’t rotate. I think the only reason to go up is to see the views of Rio.

At the first peak (Sugarloaf is the second peak, can’t remember the first’s name) there are some shops, helicopter rides and a small stage (probably for special occasions). The view is great…as you would expect. At the second peak, Sugarloaf, there are more shops and plenty of place to take photos. It is truly amazing how far you can see.

I went down a path on the Eastern side which takes you through a small forest of bamboo and trees. From here you can see all the way to Niteroi (across the bay from Rio). There was some couple that looked to be a bit friendly. They moved on shortly after I arrived.

The views are great and I can’t think of a better example of a natural platform to view a city from (except of course Table Mountain :) )

Cable car shots: The bottom station – Looking at the first peak – ICRJ (where we docked)

Corcovado in the background: Some random ugly guy :) – Overlooking Rio – with Joyride chopper

The bay is guarded by 3 forts which made it  practically impregnable. Can you spot them? – The mind behind the Sugarloaf cable car

At the beach

No visit to Rio is complete without a trip to be beach. To be honest, I’m not really a beach person in the traditional sense. I don’t like to lie on the beach for hours on end soaking up the sun. I prefer to go do something there. This day I would have to make an exception as I was recovering from yet another party. Yes, I know a pattern is forming here :)

Adriana lives in Leblon. Everybody has heard about Copacabana and Ipanema (both made famous by songs). Leblon is the next suburb away from the centre of Rio, practically part of Ipanema. Praia do Leblon (Leblon’s beach) is more for the family, compared to Copacabana. Don’t think for once moment though that you don’t see the stereotypical Carioca (person from Rio). Most of the girls are in skimpy bikini’s and you see the occasional jock, but most prevalent are the volleyball and foot-volley players. Foot-volley is pretty self explanatory, volleyball played with the rules of football. Besides sailing, I think this is one sport where girls can give the guys a run for their money. Remember the skimpy bikini’s I mentioned? For obvious reasons, the girls adorn a pair of short over their bikini’s. But don’t worry, these shorts quickly disappear once the game is finished :)

I went for a swim & what nice water. This is supposed to be surfing beach, but the waves suck. Only shore breakers :(
To rinse off the saltwater, there are hoses on the beach with fresh water…running ALL the time! I guess the recent floods mean that there is an abundance of fresh water. Not back home.

To nurse my tired body, Adriana suggested some Coconut water (not milk, it is clear). Two of those helped :)

 
Living the dream baby! Me & Adriana

Believe it or not, I’ve lost weight :) I stand out like a sore thumb with these shorts & a belt. No Carioca wears this to the beach

   
Scenes from the beach: Some foot-volley; Me rinsing off, with a great view; The road running along the beach

Sightseeing with Gillian

I have heard it said that when you are hung-over, get up and do something. Exercise is usually the best, but if you can’t do that at least get up. Gillian (Robinson, the mother on Ciao Bella that came 2nd in the 2011 Cape to Rio yacht race) and I have been talking about going sightseeing in Rio for a couple of days. Since I needed a partner in crime (and a walk to get rid of the hanger) and she was keen, I dragged her away from her family and we set off. Oh yes, with me a tour guide :)

We had two main objectives: The new cathedral, Catedral de Sao Sebastiao, (that looks more like an Inca Pyramid) and the tram up to Santa Teresa. I am always keen to take public transport in cities as it is cheap and you (sometimes) get a free tour of the city (obviously with no commentary). So the plan was to get a bus to Central, then walk South to the cathedral and take the tram.

As with every well thought out plan…you need to be flexible & improvise. We didn’t make it to Central, but got dropped off close to the Uruguaiana Metro (underground) station in Sarra. Since it was Sunday, the place was buzzing, even though this is a market for the locals. A couple of things bought, we were intrigued by the life in the little streets.

We finally teared ourselves away from the market and continued to the cathedral. This place is impressive! It was designed to attract the new generation, so the older style was mixed with modern. I think it was done quite well. There are 4 stained glass windows that stretch the height of the building which can seat 25 000 people! And no columns! Behind the pulpit is an area that is reserved for personal prayer, a quiet place if you will. Both of us spent some time there.

A short walk to the tram station and we were surprised to see three other people from RCYC planning to do the same thing. We all started talking which helped pass the time, as there are not many trams. At 60c per ride, you can’t really expect them to expand. This ride is one of the highlights of Rio, to me. It start going over the aqueduct in Lapa (the scene of the previous night’s party) then up through the old city into the mountains on which Cristo Redentor (Christ the Redeemer) is build. The streets are cobbled and lined with small shops & bars. The atmosphere is relaxed, with the only drawback being the prices of the bars. Obviously aimed at tourists. R$5.50 for a beer, which can be purchased for R$3.00 in town (R$4.00 for a Quart equivalent).

Wanting to take in some more of the city, we decided to walk back. But on the way, mention of the Sala Cecilia Meireles altered our course. I had been there, but was curious to see what it looked like in daylight. Quite a walk later we got there, with some disappointed faces. At least I was happy to be back.

A bus ride home ended off a great day. By this time my hangover had subsided :)

The market in Sarra; What seemed to be the main street in Sarra

 
Cathedral from the outside; Inside looking up; From the benches

The tram

Crammed in just like in Africa, except no chickens :)

Views from the tram: The street coming up; View of Rio’s CBD; Me where we disembarcked

The explorers: Mike & his wife; Gillian & I, All of us (Mariette in the middle)

 
2010 Soccer world cup art; Looking at Guanabara bay from Santa Teresa; A view as we walked down

Locals doing their thing at a roadside bar

Sala Cecilia Meireles stairs: Me; Looking up; Locals chillin'