Itatiaia! (again)

We don't have a car either!

A recent post from fellow bloggers Qualidade de Vida inspired me to let the universe know that we don't have a car either! A year and a bit into our adventure and I don't reckon we'll ever have one either. Driving in Rio is not for the feint hearted and taxis, buses, boats (not to mention the slowly expanding metro*) all ensure that we get from A to B and back again all in one piece.

Once in a while, however, our desire to head for the hills means that we hire a car and take off for the weekend. Its not that we can't do it on the bus (we often do) - its just that sometimes there is no substitute for a ride into the wilderness with nearest and dearest. And once in a while that means splashing out R$550 odd for a 1 litre VW to join the loopy Carioca racetrack.

This time we visited Hotel Pousada Esmeralda - a few hours drive out of town and a few kilometres from the entrance to the Itatiaia National Park.

The hospitality was just what the doctor ordered - three hearty meals a day and ducks quacking their way around the place to the delight of our little man.

One thing that I love about Brazilians in a restaurant is just how seriously they take their food, and just how eloquently they describe every last morsel. Now this means that when something is worth complimenting the whole table can pretty much sing together to the glory of the potatoe. I'm not kidding.

And equally if the punters decide that something needs sending back for a 5th and 6th time, then so be it. I've seen the patience of a hundred waiters unabashed by the most discerning of diners.

Anyhow, Pousada Esmeralda does the trick. Proper hearty mountain food. Somehow a trip into the mountains seems so mean that the tourists need to ignore the fact that its still in the mid 20's and wrap up like they're on some sort of polar expidition. This is a place for fondue and log fires. Honest.

Anyhow - if the hulabuloo is all a bit much and you fancy a trip out,  then why not pull on the old hiking boots?

*metro will eventually be so crowded they might need Tokio style 'pushers' to squash the punters in at busy times....

Lei Seca, and Becoming a Motorista!

We used Localiza - cheaper, and dodgier alternatives abound.

We hired a hugely uninteresting motor at the weekend to drive to Cabo Frio. Just the same as renting one anywhere I suppose, just don´t expect to get much for your money. We hired the cheapest available with 4 doors and air con. It was R$550 for Friday 10am to Monday 8am.

Now I´m not one of these invincible never-had-a-crash types, and I doubt anybody would be after driving here for long. I´m sure you could find other hairy on-road experiences in other places, but I reckon Rio must be up there. I see an accident of sorts most days, and some of them are not pretty at all. Better pay the extra R$30ish per day and get the insurance.

When we left the UK I was determined to see if we could cope without buying a car - and even though renting here is not cheap, I still think that our overall saving will be huge. And its sooo much less hassle.

What a boring post! -And even more boring considering the most significant factor in becoming a Brazilian driver in Rio (even just for a weekend) - you can forget about beer altogether. They are really serious about their Lei Seca (´dry´law) campaign - with serious penalties for being over the limit. And the roadblocks are often attended by the horribly injured victims of drunken road-wrecks. So forget the cold stuff till your well and truly parked up.

And then go mental at your destination. Rude not to celebrate getting there in one piece eh?

Watch out for the big white baloons.

The Zoo

I'm a bit nervous about visiting a series of imprisoned animals at the best of times, and today was no exception. But, you know how it is, one thing led to another and before I knew it, I was headed across the park towards the incarcerated doolittle exhibition.

Turns out it wasn't too bad, although (and i'm no expert in these things) I reckon a grown tiger deserves enough space to swing itself in.

Incidentally - there are a pair of tigers there aptly named William and Kate - although there was no evidence of their wedded bliss. (nor were the penguins and giraffes joining in a disney-like chorus of 'oops upside yer head.) - I'm not kidding - here's proof:

ROYAL TIGERS AT RIO ZOO!

Needless to say we left the zoo sharpish.

(Its really cheap to get in though - R$5 buys you all the caged up shenanigans you can goggle at!)

I quite enjoyed this one - although I did find it hard not to go - oo ,oo,oo at the Monkies

Count the turtle's heads.....

Herein lie some massive nasty bastards. Go ssssss at them if you want - they'll deal with you as they see fit.

Taxi!

Now - this is by no means definitive, but our life here has occasionally demanded that we jump into a cab. The only time I did this in Brighton I was either really hammered or really hung over.

Here in Rio, I try to rely on the good number of public transport options, but there are times when I´ve got a cab. Here´s how I do it:

Depending on how brave I feel about communicating in Portuguese, I may or may not take some visual aids with me. I definitely take a pen and paper, so that if all else fails I can start a convoluted game of pictionary with my poor confused cheauffeur of the moment. Nothing like cruising around totally lost with the meter running!

Yellow Rio cabs have proven to be honest so far. Either flag one down (usually takes between 2 and 4 seconds to stop one) - or go to a rank (they are everywhere).

Tarif 1 starts at R$4.30 and the price climbs modestly till you get there -  by my reckoning, cabs are cheaper here than most big cities. Here are some ´rule of thumb´ prices.

• Copacabana - Sugar loaf  R$10
• Copacabana - Lapa R$15 - More after midnight
• Copacabana- Leblon R$10ish
• Copacabana - Tom Jobim International airport - R$45ish depending on traffic

Tarif 2 is for sundays and holidays and after midnight. Don´t ask me how much it is, I´m usually three sheets to the wind when its tarif 2 time.

Ok - its important to note that since April, the fares went up by 14% but the meters haven´t all been changed. So if your driver produces a ready-reckoner at the end of the journey to let you know the actual fare (and not the old fare on the meter) - don´t set off your rip off alarm just yet.

The airport....

Ahh, the place where you arrive after half a night asleep with some fat git´s knobbly knees in your back. Now this is when you you should set you rip off alarm with a hair trigger. Before you pass into the airport proper, a row of Taxi kiosks manned by wailing banshees will try and lure you into poverty. Personally I would avoid their advances.

At the airport door its round 2! An elite squad of commision hunters will desperately try to push your trolley for you. Just make for the normal cab rank. And the normal cab fares.

There. Said it.

By the way - this nifty website works out the fare for you -  so when you get where you´re going, you can check the extent of the damage.

http://precodotaxi.com/rio-de-janeiro/

Corcovado

A lot to take in. And quite a mission on Maundy Thursday with the buggy, but today was the day we chose to go up the mountain to see the statue. You know the one.

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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Location:R. Assis Brasil,Rio de Janeiro,Brazil

Mine's a Lage one!

Our Lovely Morning in Park Lage

Now check out this park... (click for a fancy map)

Quite the way to while away a morning! - We went last Saturday and our little fella is desperate to go exploring there again. Nooks, crannies, streams, a delightful little aquarium and even the odd monkey to make eyes at your picnic.

And its free! - I've been told that the more intrepid visitors can walk along the upward trails all the way to Christ the Redeemer. Might want to consider getting a guide for that though. Aside from the theiving bastards that might make off with your wallet, some of those cliffs look less than inviting.

Christ, he's a long way up.

We were sensible, we stayed in the bottom bit, with all of the art students, and cub scout orienteers, and hippy types taking their massage class. Oh yeah, and the armed guards. No kidding.

A great big tantric mutual back rubbing session. Brighton memories came flooding!

My ´Hood (or part of it at least)

If you're from Rio, you're called a Carioca - It's nice to have a label. If you're like me, you're a gringo. Plain and simple - although it seems that its not as derogatory as it sounds. I actually get the feeling that it's an endearing term reserved for us poor lost foreigners. To be honest, I reckon I'm offered more than my share of goodwill and patience.

I know I bang on about bus drivers, but get this. I reckon the dirty great beasts of the road have been responsible for all of my near-death experiences in Rio so far. That said, not only are these guys prepared to splatter me in order to get where they're going, they are also prepared to screech (and I mean tyremarks) to a halt 500 metres after the bus stop just because I was too dozy to remember to alight. (hmm... where do you get off etc etc...)

So, pretty quickly, I feel a part of the mayhem, rather than a camera toting holiday maker (or one of those gap year types from the mosquito factory at the bottom of the road (I'm only jealous - more about them later)

Incidentally - here's where we live. Slap bang in Copacabana. Before we made the move I explored via the power of google, and the one thing I just can't communicate here is the noise! - I love noise in my life, but this is pretty close to the limit. Needless to say if I wanted to stroll down the street banging two bin lids together, chances are nobody would notice.

View Larger Map

Now - if you are ever passing by, the petrol station at the bottom of the street has an amazing bakery. Just saying.

Right - Cariocas love babies. Our little man is the subject of more cooing than a packet of hobnobs in trafalgar square. I'm not kidding - a simple excursion to the petrol station to buy a couple of rolls may well include a good five minutes of fascinated cheek-squeezing (his, not mine). He currently attends a local nursery - Passo a Passo - just around the corner next to yet another backpackers retreat ('mellow yellow' for crying out loud).  Whilst I wouldn't put it past some of the more unscrupulous cariocas to rob you in broad daylight, the buggies outside nursery remain untouched - maybe even robbing bastards won't nick off babies.

Anyway - to look at a video of his nursery, where even one year olds turn up in uniform and get a school report (he did especially well in science the other day!) - have a look here http://g1.globo.com/videos/jornal-da-globo/v/materiais-escolares-deverao-ter-selo-de-qualidade-e-seguranca/1404105/

Tomorrow dawns the arrival of our first UK guest. Yep - my old man has packed his speedos and he boards the plane this afternoon. Hope he likes our place, and the noise, and the busses. Crikey, best do what I do best and have a very careful think about which bar to hit first......

Uberaba, and the barbeque to end all barbeques.

Yep, thats right, Uberaba - and not a sniff of a filthy word, I promise. Its a city in Minas Gerais (the state that borders Rio). Now we´re 10 hours drive from Rio (or a short lazy, decadent plane hop, thankyou very much). Now those of you with one eye on the liturgical calendar (or a bent for stuffing pancakes once a year) might know that its carnival time. Thats right, dress like a total mentalist and paint the town very red indeed. In fact, pretty much nothing is taboo, as long as you do it very loud and proud and absolutely pissed as a fart.

Just to prove that it exists in the most traditional sense, Uberaba has a coat of arms. Here it is.

Now friends, I´m no prude or party pooper, honest, but the thought of a week long record breaking stag/hen do going on right on my doorstep, with our little lad desperate to join in was a thought a trifle too much to bear. These days I´m able to show restraint on many occasions, but the test of Rio Mardi Gras was not a test I was prepared to take. So here we are, on a trip down memory lane for her, and an adventure into the ´Triangula Mineiro´for me and the little one. To be honest, in its own way, its just as mental here!

I don´t know what the weather´s like where you are, but here we have a kind of steroid fueled ´sunshine and showers´. Its either a blowtorch straight to the torso or its torents causing drains to instantly flood and streets turn into rivers. This meant that out quick hop by plane took an extra 4 hours and an extra airport. You know what. Not one of our fellow passengers grumbled in the slightest. I couldn´t believe that by some miracle we had joined the 2011 reunion of the all Brazil chilled-out society. When we landed, there was actual spontaneous applause. Remind me not to be so unreasonable the next time we are subject to leaves on the line.

Ok - so we met up with our carnival team, and headed off to the house on a hill. We were the first, but not to worry. Beer first, and it came in the huge bottles that I have learned to love so much. Kids charging about. Much hugging and introducing and stuff. Pretty festive to be honest. Just no tree.

Now - I´ve done the right thing and manned the barbeque before - to both the delight and horror of our guests. I´ve made everything from exquisite lamb kebabs to uncooked near death experience comedy chicken. I´m sure we´ve all been there. I´ll shut up.

This barbeque experience, was unlike any other. For a start, in order to promote a strong team spirit, everybody was most keen to do their bit to help by drinking beer like it was about to be confiscated. The cooking was left to a pro, who the ringleaders had clubbed together and organised. This superhero of the charcoal grill was relentless. We were in very good hands. All we had to do was eat and drink for SIX BLOODY HOURS. I have rarely experienced such deep and heartfelt happiness. More delightfully seasoned, perfectly cooked beef? Don´t mind if I do!

In usual circumstances, I´d be writing with a stinking hangover. But in true festive style, I´ve done the age-old boxing day trick and jumped right back on the horse. Hmm, talking of horses, we spent the day at the Jockey Club getting roaring drunk again. Clever. Very clever indeed.

The Jockey Club - Not a bad place to waste time getting plastered. We did. Both.

Getting Around 2: On The Buses

Now, I'm not really yet in any position to talk with any authority or knowhow about this well loved mode of Rio transport. But its been nearly a month now, and seeing as barely a day goes by with out me putting my life in the hands of some deranged madman/woman, I thought it would do no harm to share some initial thoughts.


The buses get you there. Quick. Even if the everyday gridlock seems somehow inpenetrable, you'll make it, trust me. That is if your chauffeur of the moment remains on the case for long enough to keep his dodgem from stacking into any other game contestants in this glorious deathrace 2011.

Heres how it works. Keep some smallish money handy because the bus won't break the bank. Wait at the kerbside for your number to come up (or if, like me, you don't know all the numbers look out for a vaguely familiar destination) - When you see your bus approaching like a terrifying Indiana Jones style boulder, Jump out in front of it and flail your arms wildly above your head. If unsure, just copy the nearest fellow would-be passenger. Now if the bus stops, proceed to the next stage. If it doesn't, and assuming you are not in need of emergency first aid, you need to be prepared to flail again I'm afraid.

Once on board, hold on. No matter what. Step up past the driver (who will no doubt be back on his hell-bent mission to get us all wherever) and go to the turnstyle operator. Pay your fare, get through the turnstyle and go and enjoy your ride.

Now, if you manage to get a seat keep an eye on (a) your stuff and (b) where you are. Most of the familiar lanscape mysteriously disappears once onboard, rather like you just departed platform 13 and three quarters. Try to enjoy it flying past and marvel at your would be fellow passengers jumping into the road and flailing. Feel quietly proud as your driver pulls one death-defying overtaking move after another, and the rest of the city disappears behind you.

Ok - when you think you are approximate, pull the cord and get off at the next stop. The getting off door is at the back. As you alight, watch out for the dodgy bastards who get on via the getting off door to avoid their fare. Personally I've not yet felt particularly inclined to draw the driver's attention to their activities. Is this because of my zen-like live and let live attitude? Yes it is.

Coupla observations:

• Copacabana is currently lying confortably under a blanket of fresh tarmac. This makes the whole district smell delightful. The lack of road markings also makes for a scintilating vehicular free for all that the buses seem to particularly enjoy. Be careful out there.
• Given that there are no road markings, the powers that be have decided to change the bus stop system in Copa completely. Nice. Each bus stops at either stop 1, 2 or (yes you've guessed it) 3. Now, if you happen to be at the right stop for your bus number, great. Good for you. If you happen to have jumped out for the wrong number at the wrong stop, be careful. No amount of flailing is going to stop that bus. This could be a flashing blue light moment.



The Fancy New Copacabana Bus Stop System. This one folks, is a number 1. If you need a number 2, you'll just have to go somewhere else.



• Travelling with a buggy? Then you have to get on via the getting off door so that you can avoid the turnstyle. Sometimes this works well (once the guy even abandoned his turnstyle to lend a hand up the steps!) - Sometimes its a bloody rank disaster. Thankyou fellow undisirable back door embarkee for hurling abuse at the driver until he stopped squashing our son the the doors.

You know, sometimes dodgy looking bastards can be worth their weight in gold.

Getting Around 1 - The Metro...

So far removed from our days in Sarf Landin. This is the Rio Metro. So far it has two lines and runs from Ipanema in the south to way way way up north. I´m told that it can be grim up north, but as i´ve not been there, I'm reserving judgement. Unlike so many scardey southerners I could mention back home. You know who you are.

Right - the metro. There is actually space - even at rush hour, and even though It really lacks a  'stand still on the left, run for your life on the right' unwritten law, it is positively dealable.

Just get your card from the ticket office - currently R$2.80 for a single, or buy a rechargeable on for R$10 and go for it. You're not gonna get mugged here. It just seems so safe. I'd love to hear from anyone that knows different. Right now i'd say that it was a good way of getting from A to B unscathed. (although, touch-wood we all remain skirmish free so far)

Anyone have a buggy? Then you can pretty much forget it. Some stations have lifts, most don't. So just make alternative arrangements. You can always try your luck with the wheelchair stair lifts, but to be honest they take aaaages, and if anyone in a wheelchair showed up while I took 20 minutes to get the buggy up the stairs, I'd be less than proud of myself.

So the verdict is: The Metro rocks, but don't bother with the buggy.