The pilgrimage is on. Thousands of faithful from all over are descending on Rio, and the traffic is reflecting the fact. Nobody seems to care - everyone is just glad to be on holiday.
Needless to say, the bus was rammed, so we got in a cab and headed for the foot of Corcovado (the mountain plinth for the most famous concrete Jesus of all). Cabs here are great value - if there are three of you - a short hop across town is barely more cash than three bus fares. Might as well travel posh then.
There's a train all the way to the top. Thing is, it seems you need to be up at the crack of dawn to queue for a ticket. We weren't - so the only train still available was going to be after dark (not really the best time to savour the Christ's eye view).
So we braved to minibus method, which, as it turned out, was manageable. We donned our stickers to tell the world we were paid-up gringoes, and got in the first of quite a few queues.
Ok, one cab, 2 minibuses, 2 escalators, a lift and more queues than I was able to count, and we were there. Gazing out over our adopted home and trying to make sense of the Geography that was finally laid out on a plate for us to fathom.
R$46 each - and worth every penny. And although we had to deal with the Easter crowd, it was all the more memorable. Especially seeings as we we able to witness the priest at the top literally telling it on the mountain, and throwing a couple of showbiz numbers to the high altitude assembly.
Go do it. Here's the link: Trem do Corcovado
|Me, The old man, and the 600 tonne concrete dude.|
|Oi! - I can see your house from here...|
|If you're a priest, Easter at Cristo Redentor was always going to be a big gig.|
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