We finally arrive in Brasil on February 15, a good two weeks later than originally planned and unfortunately missed out on all of Bahia. We'd rented an apartment in Ipanema, just two blocks from the beach. This is where Mike's sister, Lynn, joins us for the last leg of our trip. We are starved for company and extremely excited to have a fellow traveler.
Our first order of business is to head to the beach. By the time we get it together and arrive at around 11am, the beach is already packed. A sea of humanity under a canopy of beach umbrellas going in either direction, west towards Leblon where a massive mountain of solid rock rises from the land, and east towards Copacobana. The sand is like nothing we've ever seen. Clean and fine and light like silicone, it's like Utah snow but without the chill, the exact color of leftover ice in the bottom of a frozen capuccino. With over 7000km of coastline and almost half of the country being surrounded by the world's most gorgeous beaches, these guys certainly have this beach thing down to a science. You can be at the beach all day and never need anything. Rent a chair for $1, buy an umbrella and for as long as the sun is up, you can sustain yourself on the endless supply of food and drink available from the many vendors cruising the coastline. Cold drinks, empanadas, corn, grilled prawns (always looked and smelled so good but we weren't sure it was smart to eat them), sandwiches, grilled sausages, grilled cheese, ice cream. Every twenty feet, there would be a stand set up with a guy selling beers and ice cold coconuts.
Get a coconut for about a dollar and he'll hack the top off, you stick a straw in and drink the refreshing clear coconut water. When you're done, you bring the coco back to him and he'll hack it in half, chip off a piece of husk which you then use as a scoop to scrape off the delicate fruit inside. Everyone walks around the streets in their bathing suits and Havaianas flip flops, the national footwear of Brasil. Havaianas are sold everywhere and anywhere. I liked this place best of all.
A very common sight is men on the streets or walking out of their hotels, sometimes quite far from the beach, in their speedos and nothing else, sometimes a T-shirt but no shorts, no shoes. Classic. Well, when in Rome....(Mike bought a speedo...his legs got pink.)
Our usual spot was near the corn guy. He would spend the morning shucking his bags of corn, then he'd throw a bunch of corn into boiling hot water and walk around the beach with his cart. One of these sets you back $1.50. Corn guy picks a perfectly cooked ear out of the water and rolls it around in a tupperware of salt water. Then he places it inside of a husk that he's saved from earlier and with another piece of husk spreads melted butter over the top. Dreamy.
We did expect basso nova to be piped into the entire city, like in that scene in Shrek. We actually had a difficult time finding impromptu live music, let alone basso nova.
Arriving in a new country with a whole new language that we don't speak is like learning to walk all over again. Being unable to communicate is one of the most frustrating and isolating things. The Brasilianas are exceptionally warm and friendly and we would have loved nothing more than to launch into a conversation with people but English is rare. However poor their English is though, it's still much better than our Portuguese.
Food. The Churrascaria is the Brasilian temple of meat. Like the Argentinian Parilla, a churrascaria is an all you can eat affair. We recommend an all day fast before visiting one and an enema for dessert. Diners are given cards that are green on one side (meaning, "yes, please slice me off another hunk o' dat") and red on the other (meaning, "beat it, meat man"). Servers come around the tables with swords of chicken, sausage, lamb, pork, and all cuts of beef, slicing off their meaty offerings onto your never empty plate, then challenging you to have more even though your card is clearly positioned on the red side.
As if this weren't enough, there is a full blown buffet of various salads, rice dishes, soups, smoked meats, cured meats, seafood, even sushi. Just when you're pretty much full just looking at this obscene display of carnage, a waiter will casually ask you if you'd like to order some side dishes for the table as if it were the most natural thing to do. Side dishes to accompany the ten other sides you just piled on your plate. Gag.
We came to Brasil just in time for its most anticipated and celebrated holiday, Carnaval. It lasts 4 days starting the Saturday before Ash Wednesday. Masses flock to Rio and Bahia for the country's best parties and celebrations. "Blocos" or street parties take place in different neighborhoods on each of the 4 days. For example, the famous bloco, Bando do Ipanema, a
mostly drag affair, takes place on the main street that parallels Ipanema Beach. Trucks carrying large booming speakers roll slowly down the strip as hundreds of tan and sun burned Carnaval revellers mill through the closed off street, among vendors selling beers, hot dogs, meat skewers, cheesy bread, popcorn, tapioca cakes, corn, necklaces, sarongs, hats and sunglasses. (Are you noticing a trend? You'll never starve here.)
We bought tickets to the Sambodromo where every year, 12 of the best samba schools in Rio participate in the most extravagant parade of the year, competing for the prized Grand Championship. This takes place on 2 nights with 7 schools performing on each night. Each night can last up to 12 hours, but few people ever stay the entire time. It takes about an hour for each school, which comprises of hundreds of performers and dancers all wearing the most elaborate costumes and dancing among gigantic floats, to make it from one end of the Sambodromo to the other. People in the stands sing and dance along to the songs. The mass of humanity present is unbelievable. We got to the Sambodromo at 11:30 and left at 5 in the morning, before the parade was over. If it weren't for the strong police presence that night, walking to and from the Sambodromo might have been a bit more trying. The Sambodromo springs to life just this once each year for Carnaval and the rest of the year it lies dormant, a sleeping giant among some of of the cities many favelas or slums. Rio's favelas are a very visible reminder of Brasil's gaping economic divide. Too numerous to ignore and not as swept under the rug as those in Buenos Aires, they are the reason for the torrent of travel advisories we received from friends and travel sites before getting there. However, being hardened city people, it was not a problem for us in the least.
One of the highlights of Rio was spending time with Val's Brazilian friend Andre and his family. Incredibly hospitable and wonderful hosts, Andre invited us to a feijoada lunch to celebrate his mother in law's birthday. Feijoada is a very traditional Brasilian stew of pork ribs and sausage cooked in black beans. The salty, smokey, rich flavor is delicious with a side of chard and rice. We also sampled Calso de Feijoada - a smokier, sausagier, mini, drinkable version of the big Feijoada, served in a shotglass- rich and lip smacking good. We washed down our meal with Caipirinhas, the national cocktail, available almost everywhere - a concoction of crushed limes, sugar and cane alcohol called cachaca (ka-sha-sa).
After our feijoada feast, Andre took us to Maracana Stadium to see a Brasilian futbol match between two rivals, Fluminense and Vasco. Maracana, which packs in around 100,000 fans into its stands was only about a third full that day, probably because Carnaval had already started. Regardless, it was a privelegded experience and with 8 goals scored, it was an exciting game.
On our last day in Rio, we had lunch in Santa Theresa, a colorful and lively neighborhood set on the top of a hill. We had a leisurely lunch and browsed the little shops on the hill, walking past remnants of last night's street party and the beginnings of new ones. We walked past a group of people spontaneously dancing and playing music outside of a restaurant.
What a fun bunch of people. We also visited the famous Pao de Acucar, or Sugarloaf Mountain where we took two sets of cable cars up to the peak for a breathtaking 360 degree view of Rio, including Corcovado, with Rio's unmistakable symbol, the statue of Cristo Redentor.
Unfortunately, the sun wasn't on our side and all our pictures turned out a tad backlit. :(
Our time in Rio was short and before we knew it, we were on a flight to Sao Paolo to spend one night before catching our flight to Panama. We only had time in Sao Paolo to do some last minute shopping (The shopping in Brasil is the best we've come across in all of our 6 months, not to mention the glut of bikini stores. Val went ga-ga and bought 3 new bikinis.) pool time/welcome
drinks and a fab dinner at Famiglia Mancini, one of three Mancini restaurants that monopolize an entire street. Incidentally, SP has the largest Italian and Japanese populations outside of Italy and Japan, so that kind of food is not only abundant but very authentic.
Next and last stop, Panama.
