Argentina
Brazil BrazilPraça da Cruz Vermelha22°54’43” S 43°11’33” W
September 28, 2024 in Brazil ⋅ ☁️ 22 °C
16:30
One of the joys of keeping this journal has been the opportunity to read back over my adventures. On page 1 of this increasingly weighty tome (we’re up to about 400 pages now…) I wrote about the joys of a late flight, having time to relax before heading to the airport, of the joys of the airport having a demonstrably more chilled out atmosphere. Here we are fully 10 months later, and I’m going to repeat myself.
Today’s been a breeze. I was all packed up yesterday (Friday), but Vicki’s got acres of time to get packed before our 17:00 cab to Heathrow T5.
I head to the Signalman for lunch and a pint, and catch up with Romy - landlady extraordinaire. Brighton are playing away at Chelsea today, so the Signalman’s fairly quiet. I park myself in a corner, and spend a little time filling in the few remaining blanks in our plans for the next 3 weeks. Back at the ranch, Vicki is finished packing, and we’re itching to get on our way.
We’re meeting my cousin, Tamsin, at the airport. For those of you that have been keeping up with this year’s travels, she’s the mother of Felix the Giant, who accompanied me through Thailand, Cambodia and Singapore. She’s based up in York, but has stayed overnight with an old friend in Walthamstow. We’ve an 11 hour flight stretching in front of us, an overnight - so hopefully some decent sleeps to be had.
So - Brazil. I’ve got to admit, I’ve a little anxiety about this trip. Brazil has something of a reputation for street crime, particularly in the bigger cities. Chatting with my good friend, Alex, recently, he told me of a friend of his who recently got mugged in downtown Rio, walking home from dinner. There are some clear and obvious guidelines to follow, most of which fall under the ‘don’t be a dick’ rule. No ostentatious jewellery, keep your phone in your pocket as much as possible, generally look as scruffy as possible - that sorta thing. It does sound like walking around any of the cities by night is generally a no-no. Cabs for us then. I guess there’s also a sense of anxiety at the unknown. Even when I’ve visited new countries over the past year - Sri Lanka, Thailand, Cambodia - they’ve been closely aligned with the familiarity of India or Vietnam. This is my South American cherry being popped, and whilst it would be disingenuous to suggest I’ve no idea what to expect, I just don’t think it’s possible to know how you’re gonna feel about a place, until you’re in it.
There’s excitement too, though. The land of Capoeira, churrascarias, Candomblé, the Copacabana, carnival and Caipirinhas. There’s a LOT to which to look forward.
19:26
The journey up to Heathrow was a breeze. Our fave driver, Andy, picked us up in his uber-comfy Range Rover, and we shoot the breeze very happily along the way. Unintentionally, we end up talking about whether Brazil is a risky destination, and I wince slightly.
We’re into the departure lounge in good time, and find Tamsin in the T5 ‘Spoons. Other bars are available, but there’s something about an Airport ‘Spoons that just fits with our travelling style. Make of that what you will. We catch up over a couple of beers, and chat about our upcoming trip. We’re all tremendously excited, and all for slightly different things. Flight looks like it’s on time, so we order another round, and kick back…Read more
BrazilAqueduto da Carioca22°54’48” S 43°10’52” W September 29, 2024 in Brazil ⋅ 🌙 23 °C
08:45
All told, a successful flight/journey. We time our arrival at the departure gate to perfection, and are instantly called to board. We’re on a refitted BA 777. I don’t know who does BA’s interior design, but they should be sacked. They take planes that other airlines can make appear spacious, light and comfortable, and turn them into dark and cramped environments.
We remarked as we were boarding that the amount of cabin baggage brought by some people beggars belief. There are many suitcases that don’t really fit in the overhead lockers. Most have to go in sideways, which is not really in the sprit of the game. The space quickly runs out. There are many people still to board, and they’re dragging large bags behind them. The pace of boarding slows to glacial. Eventually, everyone’s on board, but there remain 10-15 bags that require a home. The cabin crew do their damnedest, but it takes a while. The plane actually starts moving before everyone has taken their seat, which again - is not really the way it’s supposed to be.
It’s a long flight - around 11 hours. We’re fed and watered a couple of hours after take off, and Vicki and I both settle into a deep snooze. I wake up a few times feeling a little queasy, and definitely too warm. I bought myself a new travel pillow for this trip. It’s made of memory foam, which is famously hot. I remove the pillow, and fall back to sleep, waking feeling much better.
I manage about 5 hours, and Vicki nearly 6. Tam’s not one for numbers, but declares she’s well rested. The flight’s been a little turbulent. Nothing too freaky, but we’re all glad when the Captain tells us we’re beginning our descent. We land into Rio about 15 minutes ahead of schedule, which is a cracking result. The same plane is heading on to Buenos Aires after a quick refuelling stop, and as few as half the passengers are disembarking in Brazil. Passport control is completed in a flash, and our bags take next to no time to arrive. We’re packed into our cab only 30 minutes after landing, and at our hotel less than an hour after touching down. That’s some pretty good going.
There’s a minor snafu at the hotel when it transpires that www.booking.com (I always name and shame) have failed to inform the hotel that we’re turning up this early, and have paid to be able to check in on arrival. The folks at the reception desk are very understanding though, and sort us out quickly enough. The hotel’s pretty basic, but clean and comfortable. Breakfast is included, which is a bonus.We grab a coffee and snacks.
05:30 is a weird time to arrive into a new city. We’re in strange hinterland where we’re not quite tired enough to crash, but not quite jaunty enough to go out and explore. It’s also 05:30, so there’s not much currently to go and explore. We’d always planned to have a quiet (ish) day today, to give us some journey recovery time. I’m minded to have a nap…
16:30
Take THAT mofos! I have a delicious and deep two hour sleep. Much needed apparently… We head out around 12:30 for a wander around our local neighbourhood, to grab some food. We pitch up at the brilliantly named Booze Bar. Tamsin and I have our first Caipirinhas of the trip, which are sensational. Real mouth zingers. Vicki has perhaps the most memorable mocktail of her career to date - a bright pink concoction featuring rose water and lemon juice, and named ‘The Barbie.’ Were this not enough, it’s served on a pink neon contraption that just takes our breath away… We settle in for some food. It takes us a fair while to pick our dishes, largely because our Portuguese is simply not up to scratch. Google Translate is a wonderful thing though, so we end up picking moderately wisely. I have a Fejoiada, close as damn it to Brazil’s national dish. The main event is a black bean stew with pieces of fresh and cured pork. Delish.
Sated, we wander up the road towards the famous Escadaria Selarón, a vividly painted staircase in the Lapa neighbourhood. The paintings are beautiful, and there’s a very relaxed feeling in the air - whether that’s because it’s a Sunday, or just that we’re relaxing into the city, I’m not 100% sure. Tam sits for a while to people watch, and Vicki and I continue the climb to the summit. It’s further than we had perhaps intended. About 2/3 of the way up, we pause next to a Caipi stall (for that’s what they’re called), and I have my 3rd Caipirinha of the afternoon. They come in 3 sizes - large, larger and ridiculous. I go for the 500ml, middle ground option. I’m a little stunned when I see about 4 shots of Cachaca being added to it. That’s gonna leave a mark… The cost of this nectar is a little under £1.
Vicki and I complete our ascent, and wobble our way back down the stairs. It’s a somewhat vertiginous experience… We park up next to Tamsin, and join in the people watching event. There are many, many content creators, creating much, much content. We’re particularly bemused by some nuns that look like they come from the Missionaries of Charity, made famous by Mother Theresa. The bemusement is that they appear to be Nuns of Instagram, so vehemently are they posing for pictures. Oh, and there’s a chap in a rugby shirt apparently squeezing spots on his chest. Lovely.
21:00
We’re all a touch jaded. Vicks as she’s just not had much sleep, and Tamsin and I in part, I suspect, due to Caipirinhas. We agree some rest time is a good idea before we head out for some dinner. Vicki is adamant she won't nap, but by 17:30, is changing her mind. I set an alarm for 19:00, and wake up without issue. My beloved is more difficult to rouse. At 19:30, I give up, and ping Tam to let her know we’re on our own this evening. She replies that she’s exhausted and is gonna sleep it out. I pour myself a glass of wine, and settle in to read my book. I suspect I won’t be a million miles behind them…Read more
BrazilMorro da Saúde22°53’38” S 43°11’16” W September 30, 2024 in Brazil ⋅ 🌙 24 °C
13:00
Much sleeping has been done. Vicki’s activity tracker reckons she’s had around 13 hours, and mine is pushing up towards 10. Tam has also slept very well, and we’re much refreshed for the day. We’ve no fixed plans until a walking tour at 15:00 this afternoon, so agree to grab some breakfast, and then head down towards the harbour area of the city. We’ve been advised to stick to Uber for cabs around town, and so jump in a fairly rickety old car to bump our way downtown. We amble along the dockside, stopping to gaze at a stunning (and huge) mural painted by the famous street artist, Kobra, for the 2016 Rio Olympics. We carry on down to Praca Maua, which is home to the breathtaking architecture of Museu Do Amanha. It’s a Science Museum, but the building which houses it is a gargantuan display of glass and metalwork. Really quite something…
It’s rapidly heating up, and we have to remind ourselves that we’re not far from the equator here, so the sun is properly strong. We seek shelter in a cool little coffee shop. I have an Espresso and a beer, while the ladies settle for coffees. Somewhat recharged and refreshed, we carry on round to Praca XV Novembro, which commemorates the end of the Emperor’s reign in Brazil in 1889, as the result of a military coup. Power to the people.
We jump in an Uber back to our hotel, mindful that we’ve 3 hours of walking this afternoon, and that we might need to save some energy. We stop in at a supermarket across the street from our hotel. There’s a range of Brazilian wines to try. I’ve been advised these are on a spectrum from really quite good, to holy fuck, that’s atrocious. We also grab more water, and some beers for our room. The supermarket feels like a decent microcosm of the Brazil we’ve experienced thus far. Everything’s on a bit of a go-slow, there’s no urgency. That’s fine for us as travellers, but I suspect we’d start to find it a little irksome for everyday life. Still - the Cariocas seem to be accustomed to and ok with it…
20:30
What a day! We head out at 13:30 to grab a quick snack before our walking tour. The first place we stop at doesn’t quite attract us. It looked like a cool place to grab a bite on Google Eats, but as is often the case with the internet, the reality doesn’t quite live up to the promise. We head up the street, and find what looks like quite a cool snack bar. We ask if there’s anything vegetarian for Tamsin. The initial response suggests yes, but this somehow turns into a no. There’s also quite a lot of confusion about how to actually ask for food.
I’m incredibly conscious that I speak no Portuguese, and that English is barely known here. It’s the first time in I can’t remember how long that I’ve struggled to communication with local folks. I’m hyper aware that being an English speaker guarantees me comprehension in a vast array of countries, but this is simply not one of them. I’ve also made the very conscious choice this year NOT to try and learn a little of the local language, as I’m visiting so many countries in a short space of time, and frankly - my addled and ageing brain is not capable of context switching that quickly. I’m regretting it now though. We wander onwards, and find a little café that offers sandwiches and custard tarts. That’ll do.
We’ve still a while to wait until our walking tour, so we amble onwards through the commercial district. We’d really kinda like to find a bar to settle into for an hour, but they seem to be thin on the ground. In this part of Rio, the concept of a ‘bar’ seems to be an alien one. Eventually, we find something that sort of meets the need, though we’re not sure if it’s actually a bar, an antiques store or a library. They do serve ultra-cold beer though, so I dive in.
It’s time for our walking tour, and we meet with the enigmatic Nina in Carioca Square. The following 3 hours are a fascinating insight into the history of Rio, of Brazil, of the Portuguese colonisation of Brazil, and of its ultimate independence in 1898. As stories go, it’s pretty soap operatic.
We’re gradually getting our Rio bearings. We blindly and blithely realise that the building we’re standing in (the 19th century Royal Palace) is on one side of the Praca XV Novembro Square we were on earlier. Ok - so our geography still needs work. We end up at the Selaron stairs, new to some of our group, but well known to us intrepid explorers who have spent all of 36 hours in the city. We (T, V and T) park at a streetside bar and grab drinks, some more drinks, and then some food. The night is starting to darken, and we feel no edge or concern about this. Without wanting to be blasé, we’re beginning to wonder whether the street safety concerns we were told about are more fiction than fact. We won’t be dropping our collective guard, but it feels like we’re all relaxing into the city, in a very good way…Read more
BrazilChrist the Redeemer22°57’7” S 43°12’38” W October 1, 2024 in Brazil ⋅ 🌙 25 °C
15:30
The AC unit in our room is noisy, and has two settings - on (COLD) and off (room rapidly warms). It’s too cold and noisy to sleep with it on all night, but too hot not to have it turned on at all. Largely as a result of this, I’ve had a slightly sketchy night’s sleep. It’s fine - I can nap later. Vicki is awake at 07:00, and anyone who knows her will understand how disconcerting this is. We grab an early breakfast, and are out the door not long after 09:00.
The drive up to Christ the Redeemer is slow. We’ve caught the end of what we assume is rush-hour, but honestly - the traffic around Rio is pretty bad whatever time of day it is. Still - our car is cool, and we enjoy adding to our knowledge of the city’s geography along the way.
We take a 20 minute train / funicular to the top of the mountain. At one point we stop for about 5 minutes to allow a descending train to pass us. When the train’s not moving, it’s sweltering. The temp today is due to hit around 35C. Happily, there’s not a ton of heat index to add to that, but it’s still hot by our standards. The views from the top of the mountain are staggering. We have a 360 degree view of Rio, and can appreciate the size and scale of this mega-city that is home to some 13 million people. We can see the Copacabana and Ipanema beaches that we’ll check out tomorrow, the phallic Sugar Loaf mountain, the world famous Maracana stadium… There’s also a statue of Jesus up here, but that’s not really our thing.
What we also see in abundance are people of Instagram, influencers in the wild. The number of people taking posed selfies and pictures is mind-blowing. They’ll spend literal minutes trying to get the right angle, light, pose, facial expression. We definitely do NOT get in their way on purpose.
We head back down the mountain by train, and again get stuck for 5 minutes waiting for a train to pass us. The temperature’s definitely rising, and this afternoon is set to be a melter. We jump in a cab over to Urca, and grab tickets for the Sugar Loaf cable car. There are actually two cable cars - the first to a mid-point on Urca Hill, around 200m up, and another up to the peak of Sugar Loaf, another 200m up. The cable cars were made famous by the fight scene between Bond and Jaws in Moonraker. Again, the views are breathtaking. We’re near the smaller, city-centre airport here, and we see a couple of planes coming in to land which are actually below us. We grab an uber-cold drink or two, and some snacks, and spend a very happy hour people watching. We make a vague plan to head out for dinner in Santa Theresa later, and decide a few hours rest and recuperation is deserved…
22:00
I fall into a deep, dream fuelled sleep. I’m more than a little discombobulated when I wake up, but feel better for a nap. We have a bit of a snafu, when an Uber car arrives, claiming it’s for us, but is the wrong make, model, plate etc etc. We *think* we’ve just been subject to our first attempt to rob us. We cancel the ride, and then the correct car turns up a minute later. Rebooked, we’re on our way quickly enough, and take a fairly short, very uphill, and incredibly pretty drive up the hill to Santa Theresa. It’s a boutique, bouji and Bohemian neighbourhood, on the hill above Lapa. It’s only a mile or thereabouts from our hotel, but most of that is up a vertiginous incline. Quite apart from our policy of making sure we take cabs after dark, I think we’d also have struggled to walk up here in the heat, which is still stifling.
We arrive at Bar Explorer, which is a very cool and pretty little restaurant with a garden of stone and vines, under which we sit. The menu is full of intriguing dishes. We share some Arancini type rice balls, and some deep fried tapioca Dadinhos to start. Vicks and Tam have a banging tilapia dish for their main, and I have a fusion sounding seafood pasta dish. All the food is good - the standouts being the arancini and the tilapia dish. Vicks has a brilliant virgin cocktail, and Tamsin and I add to our repertoire of Caipis. This one is properly sharp, but all the better for it. It’s starting to cool now, which is a blessed relief. It’s more of the same tomorrow - perhaps even hotter, so we’ll be mindful of sunscreen, shade, hats and water requirements. For now, it’s past 20:00, and we’re all flagging. Jet-lag correction is happening, but slowly. We’ve an early start tomorrow for our favela tour, so an early night is a must. At least, that’s the excuse we tell ourselves…Read more
BrazilPico Dois Irmãos22°59’13” S 43°14’45” W October 2, 2024 in Brazil ⋅ ☁️ 23 °C
16:00
Wow - what a day! We’re up with the lark. Well, I’m awake at a little after 05:00, and Vicki wakes moments before the 07:00 alarm call. We’re heading out in decent time, as we need to be at the Copacabana Palace Hotel by 09:00 for our favela tour. In the end, this is a breeze, and meet Barbara, who will be our font of knowledge, protector and guide for the next few hours. We jump in a cab to head up to Rocinha (Hor-seen-ya), one of the largest favelas in Rio. It’s a good 20 minutes in the cab, during which Barbara assures us, reassures us, and assures us for a third time that walking around the favela with her is perfectly safe, that we don’t need to worry about our valuables etc etc. More on that later…
There’s an incredibly distinct demarcation between a ‘normal’ neighbourhood, and the beginning of the favela. On one side of the road is a very expensive private school, largely for ex-pat kids. The other side of the road, is the entrance to the favela. It could not be a starker contrast. I’m reminded of my time in Mumbai, where there’s an ultra-luxe hotel on one side of the road, and the entrance to the world’s biggest slum on the other. The favelas/slums in Rio grew up as a result of cheap labour being transported in to help build the city in the late 19th and early 20th century. Workers were offered a small plot of land on which to build a residence. Unsurprisingly, many have now sprouted into multi-storey properties. There are something like 200,000 people living here, in 1km2.
Barbara walks us up a STEEP hill, followed by some STEEP stairs. She promises us the effort is worth it. We suddenly emerge onto the rooftop terrace of a local restaurant, and the entire favela is laid out beneath us. Genuinely jaw dropping. We sit for a while, as Barbara tells us more about the social and legal status of the community. There’s very little crime in Rocinha, but only because the drug dealers won’t allow it. Any crime will attract the interest of the state police. If there’s no crime, the state police have no cause to enter the favela. There’s almost a tolerance of the drug business, as long as it’s contained to Rocinha. This isn’t true of all the favelas in Rio. Further to the North is Cidade de Deus, the inspiration for City of God (if you haven’t seen it, track down a copy) where murder is a daily occurrence, and we would likely be robbed and/or shot on sight.
Barbara goes on to tell us about Johnny Bravo, the drug kingpin in Rocinha. He’s around 30 years old, and has run the drag cartel since the age of 22. He’s wanted for 6 murders, and countless racketeering charges, but never leaves the favela, so has avoided arrest. What’s fascinating is to see how Barbara, who’s background is as a lawyer, and who lives outside the favela, talks about this career criminal. There’s a reverence, almost an acknowledgement that, whilst not a perfect situation, the permissiveness of the drug trade has an upside, and a positive impact on the social construct across the community.
We climb many stairs, we walk down many others. There’s a ton of great street art, we meet many cats, and see some dogs humping. At a few points, Barbara warns us not to take photos for a couple of minutes, as we’re about to pass a drug business. Fine to walk past, definitely NOT ok to capture images. Further into the favela, there are some young (maybe 20s?) men sitting at a table, upon which their drug wares are laid. I’m not kidding - it’s like a candy shop, each different option labelled. As we walk past, they call out to us to try and entice us to buy. My mind is fairly blown by this.
As we come towards the end of our tour, we’re struck by so much of our experience. I think my single, greatest takeaway will be how happy the favela is. We’re greeted with smiles and waves wherever we go. There’s a positive, buoyant energy everywhere we look. Yes, there’s a dark undercurrent that permits the rest of the community to operate the way it does, but it’s working, really REALLY well.
Barbara leads us onto the Metro to head back towards the city beaches. We choose to get off at the slightly closer Ipanema beach. We find a cool little bar/restaurant, and put roots down. It’s hot today, around 35C, and we’ve been in the sun more than is completely ideal this morning. We also all wore trainers for the walking tour, and are more than ready for flip-flops for the afternoon. I have a local craft IPA, Tamsin has a more than passable Caipi Limao, and Vicki is delighted to find Corona Cero on the menu. Cooled, we turn our minds to food, and order a few bits to pick at. Vicki and I have some lamb croquetas that are brilliant.
We’re only a couple of blocks from Ipanema Beach, so head down to check it out. It is RAMMED. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a beach so packed. Certainly not one that’s so big. It’s also windy. Like, really windy. Tam braves a dip of the toes, and we decide to head on to Copacabana. It’s a little quieter, a little less windy here. We head down onto the beach. Tam and I have been wanting to grab a beach Caipi. There are little stalls up and down the beach, numbered sequentially. To meet your friends, you’d tell them to which drinks shack you’re closest. We swing by #56, and order a couple of Caipi Limaos. By the power of Grayskull, they’re strong. Moments later, a yoof approaches, ostensibly selling some pastry type snack. I decline, but he leans in, and conspiratorially offers me coke or hash. Again, I decline, explaining that I have a guy in the favela that sorts me out. He looks nonplussed at me, and carries on down the beach. It’s pushing 15:00, and we’re all feeling another long day’s walking in the heat. We agree to use the rest of the afternoon for some high-level resting, and reconvene this evening to see what’s what.
21:45
Tam’s decided to have a quiet night in, so Vicki and i head out around 18:00 to what Time Out recently proclaimed as the 8th coolest street in the world. I’m not sure we know what to make of that, or what to expect. We grab a cocktail at Ferro e Farinha, a restaurant specialising in wood fired cooking. The cocktails are excellent. Are they the 8th coolest cocktails in the world? We’re not convinced. Refreshed, we wander down the street in search of food, and cool stuff/people/places. There’s a cool supermarket a hundred metres up the road. Think the Whole Foods chain in the US, and you’re not a million miles away. They charge premium prices for staple products, and stock the somewhat esoteric as well. They have avocados the size of my head. Is it the 8th coolest supermarket in the world? Possibly. I’ve not really used ‘cool’ as a metric for supermarkets before. The street is maybe 400m long. We pass a few bars showing football, a couple of places to eat. We briefly consider grabbing some Peruvian food, but having to translate every single item on the Portuguese only menu is frankly more of a ballache than we're willing to accommodate.
We end up back at Ferro e Farinha, where the food looked amazing. We have two carpaccios - one of beef, served with a Bearnaise mayonnaise and some shaved Parmesan, and one of Octopus with some citrus and herbs. Both are banging. We have a sort of open Calzone with a cheese, tomato and egg yolk centre, served with garlic butter and a salsa verde pesto. Astonishing. Vicki has a ginger and tea cocktail that is both spectacular to look at, and uber-tasty. While we eat, we discuss our views on this - the 8th coolest street in the world. We agree it’s not even our coolest street in Rio de Janeiro. Perhaps Time Out's and our definition of cool differs, but we’d take the noisy street bars and restaurants of Lapa over this any day of the week, and twice on Sundays. Still, food was awesome.
It’s pushing 21:00 by the time we settle the bill. This constitutes a late night for this trip. Back at our hotel, Vicki quickly falls into bed. I give up reading when I realise i can barely focus on the words any more…Read more
BrazilDeputado Luís Eduardo Magalhães International Airport12°54’34” S 38°20’24” W
October 3, 2024 in Brazil ⋅ ⛅ 25 °C
13:00
We’re sad to say goodbye to Rio, but today’s moving day. We’re checked out of our hotel and into our cab a little ahead of 11:00. The geography of the city makes much more sense to us as we’re leaving, so familiar has it become over the past 4 days. We all agree that we’d happily come back to Rio. Vicki and I are particularly keen to visit for carnival. I’d also thoroughly recommend to fellow travellers. We’ve not felt the presence of street crime, and we find ourselves wondering whether this is localised in certain neighbourhoods, perhaps around Copacabana and Ipanema beaches. Certainly around Lapa and Santa Theresa, we’ve never felt at risk.
At the airport, there’s a minor snafu when the check-in agent tells us that there are no battery powered items of any kind allowed in checked baggage. This cues us into a slightly panicked unpack and repack - me for my toothbrush, Vicki for one of her several fans, Tam for something that I’m failing to remember.
The domestic departures terminal is fairly minimalist in its approach. There’s a small café, a couple of toilets, a few boutiques. Happily, we’ve not ages to wait. I grab a beer and settle in for a read…
17:00
The flight is, um, interesting. We’re on a plane, 80% of whose passengers appear never to have taken a flight before. Either that, or they just give zero fucks. An elderly couple sitting in front of Vicki and me slam their seats back to full recline while people are still boarding. As we start to move down the runway, a dude across the aisle starts a video call. The cabin crew also appear to be in the zero fucks gang, so do nothing about this. Still, it’s a short flight…
We leave gloomy and overcast conditions behind us in Rio, and land in Salvador in warm sunshine. We’re about 1,000 miles closer to the equator here, and the sun feels strong. We meet our cab driver, Yuri, with whom we have an extended and funny conversation via the medium of Google Translate. He gives us some suggestions for places to eat, beaches to visit. Our hotel is in Pelourinho, the historical old town of Salvador. Narrow, cobbled streets, lined with neighbourhood bars, small shops, guesthouses. One such guesthouse is Pelourinho Boutique, our home for the next 4 nights. The reception dude speaks barely a word of English, and we lean heavily on Google Translate to get checked in. Our room’s great. Much brighter and lighter than our digs in Rio. The A/C unit also appears to be one that won’t keep us awake all night, which is nice.
21:30
We head out around 18:00, in urgent need of refreshment. It’s definitely a few degrees cooler here than in Rio, and there’s a lovely breeze coming off the sea. We stop at a very quirky bar called Cafelier. The decor is highly eclectic, and it has a pretty terrace with some amazing views over the ocean towards the sunset. Tamsin and I have our first Salvador Caipis. Vicks has a tasty coffee / frappé / milkshake type contraption.
We look for a dinner option nearby, and opt for Zanzibar, whose menu reflects the communities of African heritage that make up so much of Salvador’s population. Salvador was Brazil’s first capital city, and quickly became the primary entry point for slaves brought over from Africa. There remain countless families living in Salvador with strong family links back to Benin, Nigeria, Angola, Congo, Ethiopia and Senegal. The food at Zanzibar is great. We have some Acaraje - traditional dumplings made from ground cassava, served with a selection of spicy dips and accompaniments. Vicki and Tam share some Prawns PiriPiri - not a close relation of the Portuguese PiriPiri dish. Massive king prawns, served with a slightly spicy rice, that has a distinctive and very pleasant flavour that none of us can quite identify. I have a Moqueca, an ultra traditional fish stew/curry, made this time with prawns. It’s awesome. Fragrant, a little bit of heat, bucket loads of spanking fresh prawns. YUM.
Wandering back to our guesthouse, we pass a series of bars that are busy, and have a bunch of different types of music blaring out. We all loved Rio, but equally all feel like we may be about to have some more stereotypically Brazilian experiences while we’re in Salvador. Bring it on.Read more
BrazilElevador Lacerda12°58’28” S 38°30’46” W October 4, 2024 in Brazil ⋅ 🌙 25 °C
12:00
I treat myself to a Zopiclone overnight. I’ve not slept poorly so far, but can equally feel like I’m a bit frayed around the edges. I was asleep by 22:00 last night, and sleep through till nearly 07:00. Vicki wakes not long after me, and is stuffed full of cold. She’s not feeling too bad, but is pretty bunged up and snuffly. Our breakfast is brought to our room at 08:00, and it’s a smorgasbord. Pastries, cakes, bread rolls, charcuterie and cheese, some muesli and yoghurt, and some of the sweetest little bananas I’ve ever eaten. Delish. Shortly after breakfast, I lay down, and can feel my eyes getting heavy. Vicki also feels like she could do with some more sleep. I shut my eyes, and wake up what feels moments later, but at what is actually 11:00. All in, I’ve had close to 10 hours sleep. Forza Zopiclone!
16:45
We take a hilly walk through Pelourinho to the meeting point for our walking tour. Our guide, Adriano, gives us a great insight to the history and society of one of Brazil’s oldest and most culturally diverse neighbourhoods. Salvador was an economic powerhouse in the 16th and 17th centuries, and the epicentre of Brazil’s slave trade. There are statues and monuments everywhere acknowledging the plight of the slaves, as well as the end of the slave trade in the late 19th century.
We’re introduced to the Candomblé religion, and the Baianas, the colourfully dressed women who are ever present on the Salvador streets. We visit a church, dedicated to St Francis of Assisi, which has THE most ornate and intricate gold work I’ve ever seen. Adriano tells us there’s close to 1 metric ton of gold in the church. We’re all struck by how comfortably these various religions coexist peacefully. There’s even a church where Sundays witness a combined service for Roman Catholics, and followers of Candomblé. Given the headlines we keep seeing about religious war in the Middle East, it’s a stunning reminder that philosophically different religions don’t actually need to harm each other…
Our tour finishes near our hotel, and under a balcony from which Michael Jackson famously sang in the video for ‘They Don’t Care About Us’ back in 1996. It’s been a great couple of hours wandering around with Adriano, and we feel like we know the neighbourhood that is our home for the next few days much better than we did this morning. We’re all ready for some lunch, so head to a pretty little square in front of the San Francisco church. Couple of Caipis for Tamsin and I really hit the spot. The food is very good. A steak for me, a wodge (technical term) of beautifully grilled fish for Vicki, and some prawns for Tam. Lovely stuff. It’s comfortably the priciest meal we’ve had so far, but is smack in the middle of the tourist zone, so it’s hardly surprising. It still feels like it offers good value though.
We’re all ready for a little rest after eating. Vicki and Tam wander back via a Havaianas shop, and I swing by the theatre for a dance recital later, to pick up our tickets. Currently unsure whether snooze or not…
21:00
Not snooze in the end, but had a lovely, relaxing couple of hours chilling back at our room. Vicks is on the border of feeling properly smeggy, but is pushing through brilliantly. The folk dance recital we’re going to starts at 19:00, and we’re out in good time. It’s a short walk down and then up the cobbled streets to the theatre.
The show is awesome. Such incredible energy… It covers a range of styles, but majors on Candomblé and Capoeira, with a bit of Samba thrown in for good measure. I’m not always a fan of percussion driven music, but alongside the dance we’re watching, it fits perfectly. I’m sure there’s an incredible amount of meaning and symbolism to what we’re experiencing that simply passes us by. I’m not sure I’d even describe much of the dancing as artistic - but it’s incredibly powerful, very moving, and leaves an indelible mark. We’re all hugely appreciative of what we’ve just witnessed.
Vicki and I briefly consider a nightcap - it is, after all, past 20:00. It’s Friday night in Pelourinho though, and all the bars we walk past are packed to the rafters. We mosey (it’s our top speed this evening) back to the guesthouse. I very nearly come a serious cropper, when my ankle buckles in a deep hole in the pavement. Thankfully, I brought an ankle brace with me, in case of arthritic pain, so it shouldn’t slow me down *too* much…Read more
BrazilPraia do Buracão13°0’52” S 38°28’56” W
October 5, 2024 in Brazil ⋅ ☁️ 25 °C
19:00
We wake to the sound of very little. We’ve both slept deeply and well. Vicki (unsurprisingly) slightly better than I, but we no longer compete. We have another great breakfast, and consider what to do with our day. I’ve intentionally left today and tomorrow fairly footloose and fancy free. I’d no idea whether Salvador was going to be somewhere that demanded to be walked around and seen, or hung out in, or a bit of both. Today is the latter.
Tam heads out in good time to Amaralina beach. Vicki and I have a lazy morning hanging out at the hotel. She’s still not 100%, bless her, and we figure this might be the best way to preserve her energy. We jump in a cab around 12:30, and (via a quick pit-stop to buy her some decongestants at a pharmacy) head for a beach bar called Praia Blue. It’s great. Not really sure how to describe it, except that it reminds me of Ibiza 20 years ago. Lots of laid back, melodic house music, laid back people hanging out and enjoying themselves, and some really quite good seafood. We share a seafood risotto, some cod croquettes, a bag of something that approximates whitebait, and a tuna tartare. Wonderful. I wash mine down with a local white wine which is much more than passable.
It’s very easy to kick back and spend time here. We’d not initially clocked that the music is actually provided by a DJ, as he’s slightly hidden from our view. He’s playing some really cool stuff, which transcends house, Balearic beach music, and yet which has a distinctly South American feel to it. It’s an awesome spot.
Around 16:00, we head down to the Barra lighthouse, a popular hangout for sunset views. There’s a cool little bar to one side of the lighthouse which Vicki and I target. I have a thoroughly decent Caipirinha, and Tamsin joins us, having spent most of the day on the beach. The sunset is very, VERY pretty, and accompanied by a guy playing acoustic guitar. Again, lots of Ibiza vibes. We sit, chat, take photos, chat, order another Caipirinha, chat. A great way to wile away the time. As the light begins to fade, we jump in a cab to head back to the hotel. I’m 50/50 whether I’m putting down roots or heading out for Saturday night adventures. I suspect I’ll take a cue from how Vicki’s feeling…
21:30
Well, we did make it out - but not for long. Vicks and I have a wander around the streets of Pelourinho, but I think largely because it’s early, and Saturday night - and we kinda feel like we should. There is music everywhere, bars spilling out onto the streets. There is a significant volume of beer and caipirinhas being drunk. The town is alive, and energetic. We, however, are not. After 40 minutes of ambling, we admit defeat, and head back to our guesthouse. Vicki is asleep by 21:00, bless her. Hoping a 10 hour sleep marathon will help her over the worst of her lurgy…Read more
BrazilCatedral Basílica de Salvador12°58’22” S 38°30’38” W
October 6, 2024 in Brazil ⋅ ☁️ 25 °C
19:00
I sleep poorly. Lots of awakeness. I realise around 05:00 that I’m starting to feel feverish. Vicki sleeps on next to me. I wake for the final time around 06:00. Vicki’s up a little before 08:00, we have some breakfast, and consider what to do with our day. We’ve nothing firm planned, so decide to head out to some of the museums that Adriano pointed out to us the other day. There’s one that focuses on the musical history of Bahia that I’d love to visit. We head out. It feels hot. Hotter than the past couple of days. The weather report suggests not though, which means it’s me that’s the variable.
We take the funicular down the hillside into the lower city. It’s pretty much deserted. We walk towards the museum, maybe 10 minutes away. We see a handful of cars, and a few street dwellers, but that’s about it. I remark that it feels a bit like the City of London on a Sunday morning. We reach the first museum. and it’s closed. The security guard says something to me in Portuguese that I do not understand. Oh, except ‘fechado’ which means closed. Hmmm. We wander 100m to the next museum, the one I’ve been keen to visit. Also closed. We look across the road to Mercado Modelo, a commercial centre. Also closed. Google Maps has lied to us.
After a brief conflab, we walk along the harbour towards the marina. It’s hot, and we’re marching in the direct sunlight for about 15 minutes. Neither of us is delighted about this turn of events. We can see signs of shelter down at the waterfront, but not immediately clear how we get there. Google Maps does the decent thing this time, and directs us. We stop at a waterside bar/restaurant called Lafayette. We sink a couple of beers, because if that doesn’t scare away the lurgy, nothing will. Lafayette gradually fills up, and by the time we leave, they’re doing a roaring trade.
We do some investigation, and it transpires that there is voting today in state and municipal elections, and this is likely to be why some places are closed. We’ve got previous with elections interfering with our travel plans - see Goa 2012 for details…
We grab an Uber to head back up to Pelourinho. We’re both getting peckish, and feel like our best chance to find sustenance is close to our guesthouse. We stop in at Cafe Cana, a cute little place we’ve walked past a couple of times. Vicki has a Cachaca-less Caipirinha, called a Meirinha. No? Us neither. It’s very tasty though. My Cachaca laden version really hits the spot though. The food is sensational. We order Arroz de Rabada (rice with oxtail) and Bacalhau Cremoso - a kind of salt cod fish pie with cheese type affair. Very very tasty. The oxtail rice might be the best thing I’ve eaten since we arrived in Brazil.
The food takes us down. We head back to our room, click on the A/C, and contemplate snoozes. Vicki is off almost immediately, and sleeps for a little over 2 hours. I manage an hour of dozy sleep, and wake up feeling rougher than I did before I snoozed. Fucksticks.
Tam’s had a great day over at the Praia Blue beach bar that Vicks and I visited yesterday. Caipis, sunshine, massages and cod fritters.
Vicki and I briefly consider a foray out, but decide that rest and recuperation are what’s needed. Tomorrow is another day…Read more
BrazilSanta Luzia do Norte Municipality9°38’11” S 35°51’34” W
October 7, 2024 in Brazil ⋅ 🌙 24 °C
(APOLOGIES IN ADVANCE. WHAT FOLLOWS IS LENGTHY).
21:30
Our day starts well. Vicki and I have both slept more than adequately, and both feel better than yesterday. We take this is a positive portent for the day ahead. We’re up in good time, and packed/ready to go a good 90 minutes before our check out time of 11:00, and spend a chilled hour or so luxuriating in our very sizeable, very comfortable room. (I’m going somewhere with this…)
Our cab’s not till 12:00, so the three of us head down to a cool little coffee shop at the top end of Pelourinho. I have an Espresso and a Caipi Limao - both are top notch. We’re back at Pelourinho Boutique in enough time to see our car arrive. It is not big. For airport runs while we’re here, I’ve booked a car class big enough to comfortably seat all of us, and fit our luggage in the boot, and in some cases (including today) paid a premium to do so. It very quickly becomes evident that Breno (for ’tis his name) has a car that is insufficiently large for this. He suggests putting one of our hold bags on the front passenger seat, meaning the three of us have to squeeze into the rear passenger seats. It’s not a comfy journey, but we maintain our good humour throughout.
Arriving at the airport, we join a short queue to drop our bags, having already checked in. The queue moves slowly. I’ve seen glaciers move more quickly. I’ve seen cadavers move more quickly. The check-in staff are perhaps not the most efficient, but they’re also dealing with a family group of perhaps 15-20, a large proportion of whom are young children, and who appear not to have checked in, and not to have selected seats on board, and are now demanding that they all sit together. This one poor schmuck is dealing with this group when we join the queue, and is still dealing with them when we finish dropping our bags 45 minutes later.
The flight to Maceio is barely 50 minutes, and we’re very quickly out of the airport and into our cab to Praia Do Frances. This car is suitably proportioned, and I’m sitting up front next to the driver - who is a little nuts. The closest we have to a lingua franca is our shared scratchy Spanish. He tells us that we are the first gringo tourists to come up this way. We don’t entirely believe him, but it’s clear that this is not a well worn traveller path.
We arrive to our guesthouse in one piece. Vera welcomes us, and we have a brief back and forth to highlight that I/we don’t speak any Portuguese. She continues to speak to us in Portuguese. Quickly. We resort to Google Translate, which helps a little, but she often slips into speaking Portuguese when I’m not holding my phone, so can’t translate what she’s saying. FFS.
Eventually, we complete check-in, and she takes us to our room. It is tiny. I’d find it a squeeze for 1, but for Vicki and I to share, it’s ridiculously small. Thankfully, that means the A/C unit on the wall doesn’t have a ton of volume to cool, so - you know, there’s that. There’s a small double bed, bumped up against the wall, so one of Vicki or I will have to climb over the other if we need to get out during the night. Bizarrely, there’s a pretty sizeable fridge against one wall, which very much takes up the space that would otherwise have allowed for the bed to stand in the middle of the room. 3 nights here is feeling like a long time… We agree to give it till morning, and regroup.
Meanwhile, we’re thirsty, and approaching peckish. We walk down to the beach - around 8 minutes. The sun’s pretty much set, but there’s an ethereal greyish light in the sky over the horizon. Pretty beautiful actually. We stop at a beachfront bar, which has a happy hour. Caipis for the boozers, a virgin Caipi (or something) for the non-boozer. Very cool. We head up the main street in the town, and there are countless restaurants and bars lining the pavement. We stop at one that looks/smells good, have a quick scan of the menu, and agree that we will do well here.
Things start well enough. They bring Vicki a Corona Zero pretty quickly. I order a glass of white wine, and - nothing. Ten minutes pass. I stop another waiter, and ask about this glass of wine. He disappears. There’s a conflab by the wine fridge. Our waiter returns and tells us he can’t do a glass of wine, but can do a bottle. Righto. A quick scan of the wine list, and I order a Chilean Chardonnay. There is a further conflab by the wine fridge. Our waiter returns empty handed. Well - that’s not entirely true. He brings over 4 bottles of wine, none of which are the Chilean Chardonnay we’d ordered. We settle for an Argentinian white, which happily is more than half decent.
We reason that our luck will now turn, and order some food. Tilapia for the girls, and something that I *think* is lamb, but which Google Translate is adamant is called ‘Sheep Blanket’ for me. Our waiter, disappears off, looking pleased with himself. Close to an hour later, tables around us are receiving their food, despite ordering after us. This bodes not well. I ask one of the waiters (using GT, obvs) how long our food will be. He looks askance at me, and my heart sinks a little. He heads off to discuss with the waiter who took our order. We keep a close eye. There’s a moment of realisation on their part, which I wish I’d captured on video. Yeah - the order’s not been placed. We laugh, because you have to, right? Our waiter comes back over, and is apologetic. He promises 5 minutes until the food arrives. That strikes me as a little faster than is ideal, but at this stage - who fucking cares. Moments later, he reappears at our table. There is no sheep blanket. I pick something meaty at random from the menu. I’m close to being past caring.
Finally, FINALLY, our food arrives, and it’s pretty good. Notwithstanding the Fawlty Towers approach to restaurant management and operations, the chef can clearly cook. Happily, there’s a pretty good guitarist / vocalist combo belting out a mixture of Brazilian songs, and English (language) pop covers. I’m rather taken with the guitarist’s work on the cover of Billy Jean…
We stop in at a supermarket on the way back to our cells, and meet Rodrigo, a lovely kid who speaks excellent English. He tells us that he taught himself English watching YouTube clips and Netflix shows. Arriving back at our guesthouse, Vicki and I quickly decide that the move/not move decision is being made, and it’s being made tonight, and it’s gonna be MOVE. The room is just too small for both us to be comfortable. We can’t unpack anything, as there’s no storage provided. The final straw is seeing the shower, which is an electric power shower, and which has a very dodgy looking electrical outlet right above the shower, where - you know, all the water comes out. We enter high level discussions with Tam, who is entirely in agreement. We’ll grab some breakfast tomorrow, then set out to find alternative digs for the following couple of nights. I’ll get into wrangling with the agent we booked with once we’re comfortable…Read more
