Brazil

August - September 2018
31 days in Brazil Read more
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  • Day 1

    Days 1 & 2: Rio de Janeiro, landfall

    August 14, 2018 in Brazil ⋅ ⛅ 24 °C

    After a successful visit in August 2017, I am returning to Brazil almost exactly a year later. Last year although I flew in and out of Rio, most of the trip was spent in the north-eastern state of Bahia. This time I'll be in the south and centre of the country in the states of Rio, Goias and Mato Grosso, not forgetting the D.F. (Distrito Federal, where Brasilia is). I'll be seeing some little-known gold-rush towns in the interior and viewing some wildlife in the Mato Grosso with a friend who has already started travelling there. As for Rio---well, it's unique. Brazil takes up half the area of South America and despite various hiccups over the years, is the world's eighth largest economy. Ethnically it's a fascinating blend of people from all corners of Europe, Asia, the Middle East and very significantly, a large Afro-Brazilian population and a smattering of indigenous peoples as well.

    It's a morning start from Heathrow. Not quite as early as last year when a 6 o'clock take-off meant a 4 a.m. check-in, hence a taxi along the dark, silent Great West Road. The flight passes without incident and despite a 2-hour delay, my driver is waiting at Rio international airport for the dark, not so silent streets of Rio to my lodging. This lies in a (what for Rio is quiet) cul de sac in the middle class quarter of Botafogo. I'm not too keen on places with jokey names but the Injoy Hostel does what it says: helpful, friendly staff and comfortable accommodation; the rooms are named after major cities and for this stay I am in the Belrim (sic). At this time of the year Rio's climate is temperate and air-conditioning redundant.

    When a trip begins, the problems are usually technical. The reception offer to book onward transport at the desk but my credit card isn't working. I try to contact my bank on my phone but that isn't working either; I suspect that the phone number quoted on my card is obsolete. The guy on reception manages to get the bank on his phone and confirms that the card itself is valid but isn't accepted for on line Brazil payments. So I head off to the Rodoviaria (bus station) and sort it out there---in cash.

    After all this, it's mid-afternoon and I take a preliminary walk to the beach at Botafogo, The water isn't suitable for swimming but people use the foreshore for exercising and there are some nice yachts in the bay. For evening it's time to unwind with an Antarctica beer---not the best for taste but it blows away any jetlag.
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  • Day 3

    Day 3: Rio de Janeiro

    August 16, 2018 in Brazil ⋅ ☁️ 22 °C

    A much better day, with plenty of exploring. First stop is my old hunting ground, Largo do Machado where I stayed last year. It's another unpretentious neighbourhood, the large square headed by a grand church (N.S. da Gloria), market stalls, exercise machines, card players and vagrants. Continuing northwards towards the bohemian neighbourhood of Lapa, I stop for a self-service lunch. This is a great Brazilian institution, with an assortment of dishes which meat and vegetarian alike, are charged by the kilo. So a good fill-up for R$18 (about US$6).

    Onwards to another bohemian quarter, Santa Teresa, which is reached by the old-fashioned yellow tram, the "bonde", which rumbles across the Arcos de Lapa, a former aqueduct. S.T. is a bit run down but in a charming way, with cobbled roads and late 19th century villas in mock-French and German styles. The walls are covered with graffiti or when done properly, street art, in which the bonde features prominently.

    Finally at ground level, a return to Lapa and the scenic Selaron staircase. This was designed by a Chilean artist using ceramic tiles with the colours of the Brazilian flag although later on he added reds and blacks. It's popular with tourists and sometimes musicians as well but I see only those featured in street art, or on posters such as Pink Floyd tribute bands. (This legendary band is big in Brazil and pronounced "Pink Floydge").
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  • Day 4

    Day 4: Rio de Janeiro

    August 17, 2018 in Brazil ⋅ ⛅ 23 °C

    After checking out from the Injoy, I am homeless for the coming day. At the Rio rodoviaria I board the bus/coach headed for Brasilia. It's only half-full and the reclining seats are comfortable. The journey is scheduled for 19 hours, hence it includes overnight travel and meal breaks.

    The vehicle grinds up from sea level to the central plateau, into the state of Minas Gerais. This used to be the centre of an 18th century gold rush and there are several gorgeous baroque former mining towns here. The modern towns are still used for mining but don't look like tourist attractions.
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  • Day 5

    Days 5 & 6: Pirenopolis

    August 18, 2018 in Brazil ⋅ ⛅ 26 °C

    The bus arrives in Brasilia at 11.30 a.m., too late for me to catch the bus I had intended but there's plenty of space for a later departure and I am in Pirenopolis by later afternoon. It's a small town of about 20,000 people and a world away from the mayhem of Rio. It was the centre of a gold rush in the 18th century, less famous than the one in Minas Gerais state but there are many old houses, cobbled streets and several lovely baroque churches. At the guest house where I am staying, the girl who checks me in is wearing a T-shirt saying "Strong is the new pretty" in English. I'd better watch my step.

    I may well be the only gringo in town but it being a weekend, there are lots of visitors from Brasilia and they love to rumble by playing thundering drum n' bass. Realising that trying to sleep is pointless, I go outside and listen to a very acceptable three-piece band playing British and American rock songs. And guess what---one of them is Pink Floyd's "Wish you were here."

    RTBC:
    1. No mosquitoes, as in Rio
    2. or muggers (probably)
    3. or rain
    4. or stomach pain, which had afflicted me earlier
    5. finally, a good sleep.

    Sunday lunch is a popular time and I find it at the Santa Dica microbrewery, a welcome change from the usual lagery types what are cold, wet and flavourless. I break my resolution not to have a beer before sundown and this one serves a deliciously fresh peachy brew.
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  • Day 7

    Days 7 & 8: Goias Velho

    August 20, 2018 in Brazil ⋅ ☀️ 27 °C

    The quest for the 18th century gold rush continues as I proceed to Goias Valho a.k.a. Cidade de Goias. It was the capital of Goias state until the creation in the 1930s of Goiania, a much larger city where I have to change buses. At the Goias Velho rodoviaria I ask about onward travel and when I am unable to understand the man's response, he taps it out at about 20 words per minute in Google translate on his phone. Welcome to 2018!

    The town is similar in size to Pirenopolis but even better preserved, and now that the weekend is over, very quiet. There is a wonderful open square with a neo-baroque fountain (no water) and some women doing exercises in time to music. Guess what, it's Pink Floydge!

    The temperature hits 30C for the first time and I am grateful for the swimming hotel in the guest house. I dine alone at the Restaurant Ipe (named after the tree with bright yellow flowers that grows all over this savannah-type landscape. The excellent meal is beef parmigiana, doused in mozzarella and tomato, and would probably keep me full until at least lunch tomorrow, were it not for the excellent breakfast to be provided at the geuest house.
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  • Day 9

    Days 9 & 10: Brasilia

    August 22, 2018 in Brazil ⋅ ☀️ 25 °C

    Leaving Goias Velho, there are more RTBC:

    1. The credit card works, to pay the pousada bill.
    2. 'According to the Weather Channel, Brasilia is cooler than Goias Velho.
    3. There are additional buses to Goiania apart from those listed on the internet.
    4. A good bus connection at Goiania.
    5. The Aristus Hotel in Brasilia is better than expected.

    At Goias Velho I have only a large note for the taxi driver but this is an unhurried place and he waits while I buy my onward bus ticket to obtain change for him. On arrival at the Brasilia rodoviaria, I buy my onward ticket for Alto Paraiso. One of the other ticket salesmen is talking loudly and forgetting myself, I say "shut up!" in English. Everyone relaxes and laughs.

    Brasilia has a reputation for being expensive so my expectations of the Aristus Hotel, a squat 3-storey building are not high---unlike most of the surrounding buildings. In fact at £35 per night including breakfast it is good 3-star fare and I have a pleasant night,

    Brasilia was not built for pedestrians but fortunately the Weather Channel is right and assisted by the breeze, I have a comfortable day. It's a mile walk to the Cathedral, designed famously to represent the Crown of Thorns. Despite having a capacity of only about 500, it's airy and allows enough light for interior photos at normal settings. And because the burghers of Brasilia didn't install any seating in the acres of treeless parkland, I am grateful for a seat in the Cathedral and leave a generous donation in the box.

    The city, planned to represent the layout of an aeroplane, has a limited metro service but what it has is comfortable and fast. I head out to the southern wing to explore some early 1960s housing. At first sight it's a bit soulless but it's starting to show agreeable signs of ageing gracefully.
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  • Day 11

    Days 11 to 13: Alto Paraiso

    August 24, 2018 in Brazil

    After a couple of nights in Brasilia, I am back at the Rodoviaria. The bus company have the last laugh by not telling me about the embarcation tax, and the security guard won't let me through the turnstile. (Turnstiles are an inevitable part of Brazilian life, like drum n bass and cockroaches). She sends me back to the ticket office to get the additional ticket. Once on the road, the 200 km. journey lasts 4 hours, including a lunch stop.

    Alto Paraiso is, to me, an unremarkable town of about 10,000 people and the starting point for tours to the Chapada de Veadeiros National Park. Not having a car, I need a tour operator and finding one is not the usual process of walking into a tour shop with a polite agent at the desk and pretty photos plastered on the walls. My guest house give me an address in the town which several local people, let alone myself, can't locate.

    I finally find a lead at one of the bigger hotels (thanks to the helpful Andreia) and Henrique arrives with a description of what access can be offered to the park. Having no idea if he is an accredited guide, I have strong doubts about this "man with a van" approach. What is also strange is that although a weekend is approaching, he offers trips for multiple customers only on weekdays, so I would be unable to share the cost with anyone else. It's only when he reappears in a fully liveried 4 x 4 and his assistant Edson, that I am convinced. It turns out this is common practice in parts of Brazil and should be an RTBC that Alto Paraiso is not yet overrun with organised tours.

    And because it's a weekend (Friday night) a car with shattering drum n base speeds past my window at 4 a.m. I wanted an early start but this is ridiculous!

    Edson takes me on a 6 km. round trip to the Vale da Luna (Valley of the Moon) with a landscape of smooth, bare rocks. The temperature climbs to 31C and he says my shoes aren't suitable for hiking but I continue regardless, grateful for his helping hand. The best part of the day is the return drive back when the late afternoon sunlight bathes the palm-studded plain in a warm glow. And he plays the Doors' "Strange Days" in his car!

    The following day I head out alone on a dirt track leading to some waterfalls. The passing vehicles clothe me in a coating of fine red dust. With it being the dry season, the cascades themselves have dried up but there is an attractive group of squirrel-sized monkeys tempted with morsels offered by another visitor.
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  • Day 14

    Days 14 & 15: Brasilia and the night bus

    August 27, 2018 in Brazil ⋅ 🌬 27 °C

    The 4-hour return trip to Brasilia. Originally the bearded wonder at the general store was going to sell tickets but when the bus turns up, he won't do it so the bus conductor has to sell them to the 20 or so people getting on board. Oh well, we are in Brasilia at nightfall and I get the Metro into the city centre followed by a short taxi ride. The Hotel Diplomat is low-rise and no-nonsense. It has a cheaper lower ground floor but Room 101, despite the name, is perfectly comfortable.

    The next morning, a good buffet breakfast and time to spare for the onward trip. There’s time to walk to the northern arm of the residential area. All the street addresses in Brasilia use letters for districts; while I have been staying in is SHN (Setor Hoteleiro Norte) and I am headed for the SQN (Superquadra Norte). More logical than a Moroccan medieval city---just about---and I like the 60s look. The quiet apartment blocks remind me of nothing so much as a tropical East Berlin.

    To the Rodoviaria for the final time for the 21-hour overnight journey to Cuiaba. Lots of stops in some forgettable towns and a 1- hour detour in and out of Goiania, the state capital. And the man next to me is snoring for Brazil. Roll on the Mato Grosso!
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  • Day 16

    Days 16 & 17: Chapada dos Guimaraes

    August 29, 2018 in Brazil ⋅ ☀️ 32 °C

    The overnight bus rolls into the city of Cuiaba and I roll out on to a local bus to the town of Chapada dos Guimaraes, located near the national park of the same name. At the C de G rodoviaria I meet Doree, my American friend with whom I will be travelling for a week. She is a truly intrepid travaller and has already spent a month in various parts of Brazil, with several weeks in Mexico before that.

    After lunch at a self-service restaurant we travel back to Cuiaba for the evening to meet her friend Jota, who lives on a fazenda (ranch) outside the city. He is a fellow musician of hers and has invited us to a Vivaldi concert at the university. I am no classical music expert but enjoy the concert and so do they and hey, it's free!

    As elsewhere in up-country Brazil, the Sao Jose where we are staying, is a friendly family-run pousada with its in-house tour guide. His nom de plume is Guerreiro and although he looks big and tough, is more of a gentle giant. He drives us into the national park and the state of the dirt road, even in the dry season in late August, shows that only an experienced driver such as he in a 4 x 4 can handle this. He takes us to a mountain view distantly reminiscent of Utah but with more vegetation and just as many infuriating little flies (yes, the critters around Moab are unforgettable). The view however is an impressive taster of more to come tomorrow.

    C de G is a pleasant little town of about 15,000. It's a surprise to find that so far away from the coast (it's equidistant from the Atlantic and the Pacific and is the geodesic centre of South America), the Portuguese had colonised it in the search for gold. There is a simple but attractive Colonial church dating from the mid-1700s. And like many other Brazilian towns with a history, there is a small 21st century colony of hippies. The couple that we meet are from Chile (he) and Argentina (she) and make their living selling handmade crafts. They have been on the road for 5 (yes, five) years!
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  • Day 18

    Days 18 & 19: C de G and Pocone

    August 31, 2018 in Brazil ⋅ 🌬 32 °C

    Another excursion with Guierreiro, who drives us to a different part of the national park, along a rough track to some scenic views over the landscape. Later he takes us to a waterfall which despite it being the dry season, is still in flow. It's called the Vea da Novia (bridal veil) which while not a unique name in South America, is appropriate.

    Looking ahead to the Pantanal where we are destined next, we find that the jungle lodge which had been recommended to us cost US$300 a night and was full anyway so we make other plans. The following day we take a bus to the state capital of Cuiaba and connect to the bus to Pocone, a 2 hour journey on which curiously, although my ticket is booked for seat number 4, there is no such place on the bus. Luckily the bus is far from full!

    Pocone (accent on the e, hence poc-on-AY) is a small town about the size of C de G and while not yet in the Pantanal, is the northern gateway to it. We've been told that there is a tourist office and tour guide service just opposite the rodoviaria but when we pull in, there is no sign of them or indeed of anything much. Just lots of heat and an unshaven man in a battered car who offers trips to the Pantanal, but we have no idea of his reliability and so give him a miss. I feel like the Sundance Kid when he and Butch Cassidy turn up at a godforsaken railway halt in the back country of Bolivia.

    We check into a friendly motel-style guest house south of the town centre. They don't arrange tours themselves but gives us some phone numbers and Doree negotiates two day trips in her fluent Portuguese. Let the Pantanal begin!
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