So all caution thrown to the wind it was a 4 hour flight from Manaus down to Rio. A journey which would have brought you all the way across Europe. I then had a day of calm before the storm in Rio where I looked up my old haunts and had a good old trip down memory lane. It is quite weird, but after Dublin, London and Frankfurt I probably know Rio best of all cities. Slurping down Acai, drinking Guarana by the bucket and chilling out on Ipanema beach watching the beautiful people walk by, I quickly remembered why I love this place.
Erick arrived the next morning, so it was beer for breakfast and the day carried on similarly. Although sitting on Ipanema beach during a rainstorm was not the most pleasant thing ever, although it was a portent of things to come...
After a couple of nights on the town we took a quick 24 hour bus down to Foz de Iguazu and in to Argentina to see the falls.
Again the rain gods were not smiling and the day we visited the falls the heavens broke with a vengeance rarely seen. We were both supersaturated in .3 seconds flat. A combination of wind and rain ensuring that there was not a square millimeter of dry clothing left on us. Nothing for it but to head to a dry bar and wait it out. The next day it was back to Brazil where we took a quick side trip to Ciudade del Este in Paraguay for lunch and a beer (shocker). CdE is like a third world Hong Kong. Nothing but electronics, shoes and perfumes being flogged by the side of the road, in shacks and even in air conditioned malls.
With time to kill before the bus to Florianopolis we headed up to the Itaipu dam, the largest in the world and one of the 7 modern wonders. Not being a huge dam fan per se, I wasn't expecting much, but it turned out to be rather fascinating. The whole scale of the place is just unbelievable. There is a 7 storey building in front of the dam wall and it just looks like a piece of lego.
Our second night bus took us to Florianopolis where we arrived early morning to watch a group of Germans militarily plan their next 4 days. Erick & I went for a sambo & coffee and by the time we came back they were still planning their next tactical move - Taxi or bus? Beach or Accommodation? This village or that? We left them to their discussions and headed to the local bus stop. We jumped out at the lake and Erick went into the local supermarket to plan our next move. It involved 2 beers and a packet of chewing gum. Strengthened we walked across the causeway, went to the beach and found ourselves a cool bungalow complete with a fridge and bbq. The bbq didn't see much action, but the fridge was a hit, due to the close proximity of the local supermarket (50 meters away) and its never ending supply of beer. We arrived on a Friday and were already running low on clothes (I had no trousers left and Erick only 1 T-shirt) so we found a local laundry where the lovely lady accepted our foul smelling garments with good grace and a smile. She then spoke to us in rapid Portuguese. Now, my Portuguese isn't brilliant but I clearly made out the words "tomorrow" and "12". We both took it to mean, come back tomorrow anytime after 12. Happy with ourselves we trotted off and had a jolly good night in Floripa. Duly hungover the next morning we surfaced at around 1 and delicately made our way to the laundry. We arrived to find it looking extremely closed. We meekly rapped on the windows, but to no avail. Oh well, Erick's T-shirt could handle another day and my board shorts were still more or less the colour I bought them in. We passed the day in our usual b&b (beer and beach) style and had another great night out.
Sunday morning and Erick jumped out of bed at 11am like a kid at Christmas and ran (probably hopping and skipping) to the laundry. My pessimism at Brazilian opening hours left me unstirred in the bed. He came back like someone who had just been told that Santa doesn't exist. Well one more day in that T-shirt (which at this stage looked like it might actually jump off him and run away, with the two little arms going like mad). But it stayed put and we headed off to Praia Mole, an absolutely gorgeous beach on the eastern side of the island. Monday morning eventually came around and we visited the laundry again like a pair of orphaned kids. She bestowed our fine smelling and expertly folded clothes upon us and we once again joined the ranks of the clothed people.
Another night bus saw us freeze our cahones off and left us groggy, grumpy and other g words in Sao Paulo at 5am. We caught an onward connection and were in Paraty for lunch. The rain gods were yet again in top form and left us with no option but to sit in a bar and wait for it to break. 5 hours later it slowed down enough for us to venture/stagger out. The two days were pretty much spent like that, except for a brief excursion to a local waterfall where I nearly killed myself by sliding down it in the wrong spot. Better off sticking to nice safe bars...
Finally it was back to Rio where we stayed in the fantastic CabanaCopa, partying up a storm before Erick's departure on Saturday night. Yes, what better time to leave Rio than Saturday at 8pm?? I was going to go to bed early in a mark of respect for his long haul back to Europe, but said fuck that and went out Sambaing until 4am. But Sunday was going to be the start of a quiet couple of weeks. Well until that was, someone said we should go to a funk party where I ended up dancing till 5am. The bass was so strong that it felt like your internal organs were breakdancing. But Monday was the start of a new week and I was flying back to Manaus that night. No better time to detox. Well until at least midday where the heat on the beach was so unbearable that I had to have a refreshing beer to cool down.
So from the beach to the plane and 4 hours later I was back in Manaus wondering if I had actually left at all...
0 comments:
Post a Comment