Rio de Janeiro: Is it the Best City on Earth?

View of Ipanema from our apartment in Vidigal

Yes big call, but it may just be warranted. Debatable, yes – but then again who doesn’t love a good argument, sorry I meant friendly discussion that may include some loud noises (often called yelling?).

We haven’t been to the likes of New York or Shanghai, but for us (possibly only me), it is our favourite city we have set foot in. However, we don’t feel the need to come back as we have now spent near on 3 weeks here and we all feel it’s time to move on.

Since the Cup finished we have been able to get back into tourist mode, and what better place to dip your toe into than Rio.

We ticked off all the tourist attractions, and not one of them let us down. We have met a few travellers along the way that will avoid the ‘tourist traps’ as they have some higher, self-righteous belief that the best and only way to travel is to get off the beaten path and ‘cover new ground’, thinking of themselves as some sort of 21^st century Captain Cook.

And while we do like to get to some of the more unknown places, these so called ‘off the beaten path’ destinations, we know we aren’t the first people to set foot there. And we also share the belief that a lot of these tourist attractions are so popular because they are that fricken good. As Mr T would say ‘I pity the fool’ who didn’t get up to Cristo Redentor because so many other people will be there, and have done it before them.

Copacabana and Baia de Gaunabara viewed from Pão de Açúcar (Sugar Loaf)

But yes getting back to these tourist traps. We ticked off Pão de Açúcar (or Sugar Loaf) at sunset and thanks to our trusty ‘student cards’ (yeah we pose as students over here), Nic and I got up there for half price. Sugar Loaf is definitely a place I would recommend to watch the sun go down from in Rio – you get to watch it slowly sink beneath the surrounding hills and then as the yellows, oranges and reds fade to blues, purples and finally soft greys, the city starts to reveal itself with its night lights. 

Sunset over Baia de Gaunabara

Cristo lights up in various colours, and the water front provides you with a view probably only mirrored by Sydney Harbour and Circular Quay. And yes, you do have to fight the throngs of other ‘tourist gits’ to get ‘that picture’ but in the end it is definitely worth it.

Twilight glow of Rio de Janeiro

We then hit up Cristo and in an attempt to avoid the crowds we actually got up before 9am (9am was the time the hostel proposed to serve breakfast – don’t think we got it before 9.45am on any day but you have to be quick with hostel breakfasts) and caught a mini van up there. The view you get from Corcovado (meaning ‘hunchback’) is completely different to that from Sugar Loaf but just as good. 

Baia de Gaunabara, Sugar Loaf, Copacabana, Ipanema & Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas all taken in from Corcovado

After taking in the plethora of scenery such as Baia de Gaunabara, Niteroi, Sugar Loaf, Copacabana, Ipanema, Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas, etc. and getting the clichéd 'Cristo pose' photo we were done with our good mate and actually got back to the hostel in time for the 9am come 11.30am breakfast.

Wilfred refusing to conform to the masses and take the clichéd 'Cristo' photo (mainly because he can't support his own arms)

The then there is Rio’s beaches – Leme, Copacabana, Ipanema, Leblon and my personal favourite Arpoador. For me, a beach has to be more than just a place where the water meets the sand. It has to offer something in regards to waves – I’m no surfer but I have since found that you can only throw a ball around for so long – well, most people can only do it for a certain amount of time. It has occurred to me that I am much like a dog in this regard. If someone throws a ball, I will fetch it and throw it back, again, again and again until someone (this has yet to be me) gets tired/bored of this. This is where the waves come in – I need something else to occupy my time at the beach for I am not much of a sun bather.

However, Rio’s beaches do provide something to occupy your time whilst lazing about on the sand – mainly in the form of bather attire – both male and female variety. Some good, some bad and some downright not supposed to be allowed out in public. Still, you have to take the good with the bad, and in this case the good usually outweighs the bad.

Rio also has a somewhat famous nightlife – Lapa street parties, any club in Copacabana or Ipanema, Favela Funk parties, there is always a place to go out at midnight and return at sunrise. Not that we are much of the party goers these days, but it is safe to say we still enjoy and drink or two and did venture out to a few of the famed places. Most notable would have been what we thought was our last night at the Copacabana hostel when a few drinks turned into a few more, then into going out, to not quite making it out (for some) and not quite making it home (for others). Let’s say there was only 1 of the 3 that came away from that night saying they had given Rio a good crack and came out on top, the other two split their performances between being a responsible adult and a shameful drunk. Any guesses on who was who? We then proceeded, with hangovers to boot, to check out of the hostel and try and move to our apartment, only to be told we weren’t booked in until the next day. We trudged back to the hostel to make some phone calls and try and find a nights accommodation only to figure out we were still booked into the hostel for another night. This cock up didn’t have anything to do with the state we found ourselves in that morning, but it did make it a hell of a lot funnier for our roommates.

The Favela of Vidigal

And finally you get to Rio’s so-called darker side – the favelas. We spent a week living in one of Rio’s favelas called Vidigal, and although it is said to be one of the safer favelas, it is a favela all the same. But the thing is, the real favelas are nothing like what the Western media portrays them to be. There are no longer drug lords lurking on every street corner armed with AK-47, instead there are street venders trying to earn a living. There are no beggars, or homeless people lying in the street, rather a whole community coming together to try and get by. We spent some time in Rocinha, the largest favela in Brazil, and the thing that surprises you the most is their sense of community. When you think about it, it’s not too hard to imagine given that the houses are so close together you practically share your living room with your neighbour’s bathroom. The favelas we experienced were as safe as anywhere else in Rio, and a whole lot friendlier.

Rocinha

I’m not saying I would recommend that you simply walk into the nearest favela and have a stroll through it, rather spend a few days in one and experience a whole different side of the city.

Favela life

And as an added bonus, the favelas are often built into the side of hills which results in some stunning views – the kind that would bring in millions back home. Vidigal starts at the bottom of Pedra dos Dois Irmãos (Two Brothers Hill) and winds its way half way up to the top, and provides stunning views of Ipanema from practically every house. You can also hike Dois Irmãos to take in the entirety of Rio from the one position. A mototaxi from the bottom (which is quite the experience in itself – you jump on the back of some guy’s motorbike and he weaves in an out of traffic, pedestrians, cats, dogs, footpaths, etc.) and brings you to the top of the favela. From here, a 40 minute hike brings you to the top of the bigger brother where you can sit back, relax and take in the panorama of Rio’s highlight reel from Cristo, to the bay, the lagoon, Sugar Loaf, Copacabana and Ipanema, all without moving your head.

The view from Pedra dos Dois Irmãos

Yes there are other great cities out there, but for me to be considered the best they need have a large dose of history, culture, art, nightlife, leisure activities and a coastline. If Berlin had a beach it might be a tough question, but it doesn’t…

Rio de Janeiro at World Cup Time: Like a Car Crash

Rio World Cup Street Art - Spirit of the Game

All along our plan had been to be back in Rio for the World Cup final – not that we had any intention of going to the game (tickets were very much out of our price range) but given Rio is famous for its reputation as a party place any time of the year, we couldn’t miss the opportunity to see it at fever pitch. And even though we weren’t getting the final we had all hoped for, we were still expecting big things.

I should firstly point out that we were not disappointed.

Getting back into Rio, it was clear of one thing – that the Argys had taken over. Given Argentina’s close proximity and their love of football, this shouldn’t have come as a surprise. But the sheer magnitude of them was something to behold. It appeared as if half of BA had driven over – in vans, wagons, hatchbacks, pretty much anything with 4 wheels that could be overloaded with luggage and then crammed with people for good measure.

These modes of transport also doubled as their accommodation. Most took to parking on the main road, adjacent to the beach, and lived out of their cars. They all seemed to take to partying all afternoon and night, and sleeping during the mid-morning hours – in any spot they could find somewhere out of the sun.

Copacabana for the 3rd place match

The first night was the 3^rd place match, and as predicted not too many people cared too much about this one. Well at least not the Brazilians in the area. From past experiences, usually on game day it was smarter not to plan any activities as the whole of Brazil seemed to shut down from about 5 hours before kick-off. Not so much on this occasion. As we wondered down to the beach, people were still about conducting their day to day activities. At this stage I believe a lot of the Brazilians just wanted the Cup to be over with and FIFA eradicated from their country like the vermin many think they are.

View from Fariss and the lads' apartment

However, the Argys were out in full force. They dominated the beach, singing their 2 songs over and over again to the point where one starts to wonder if it was a type of torture method used in harsher times. But still they did provide some sort of atmosphere. We watched the game from some Perth lads’ apartment with a view over the Fan Fest and the surrounding beach. Nic called it the best ‘free’ view of Copacabana she got, so cheers for the invite Fariss.

The Argys celebrating the Brazilian loss 

The next day was what it was all about: the Final.  And given the number of Argys in the streets we were expecting one hell of a party if they ended up holding the Cup aloft, and were half dreading/half interested in the outcome if the German juggernaut rolled on. Sort like a car crash, or something similar – you just can’t help yourself and turn away, you have to keep watching.

Friends had planned to try and get into the Fan Fest but given we were down at the beach at around 10am for a swim and the line was already longer than I had ever seen it before, we decided to scrap that idea and join the throng of Argys watching it from the free screen.

We loaded up with froths, vodka, snacks and ice and found a spot in the shade to settle in. Al and I were quite pleased with our make-shift esky that kept the froths cold all day – well at least until we ran out of them, and we seemed to be in decent spot – close enough to the screen to see and close enough to the road to get out of there if need be.

I would say the atmosphere before the game was probably better than the majority of the game. The Argys sang and danced to those very same 2 songs but being in amongst it seemed less torture and more party time.

Argentinian National Anthem

A few meters further in was the main German contingent who were happy to get involved in some friendly banter with the Argys, and for the most of it, it appeared to be in good nature (not that I knew what they were saying to each other – nor would the majority of them for that matter).

When the game finally got under way, for the majority the songs died down as the crowd became more nervous than anything else. But after Higuaín tapped in during the first half the place erupted. It was like being in the mosh pit for Rage Against the Machine a few years back at BDO, except this time I didn’t have shoes on and there were glass bottles everywhere.

However the madness didn’t last too long as most people looked back at the screen to notice the goal had been disallowed due to Higuaín being offside. However, for the rest of the first half the Argys were back in full voice, and yeah those same 2 songs caressed our ears yet again.

The game looked destined to go the distance and, like a fair few of the eliminations games prior, be decided on penalties. As we all know that didn’t eventuate and Götze finally broke the deadlock. What happened next, albeit somewhat predicted, still took us by surprise.

With some 7 minutes of extra time still to play, the Argys abandoned the game and took to attacking the nearby Germans. Anything that wasn’t tied down was hurled at the small group, from cans, bottles, backpacks, chairs, etc. You name it, if it was on the beach and was able to be thrown, it was.

The crowd pushed back, some for safety, and possibly some to get access to more projectiles. And like a car crash, we stayed far enough away from the action to be relatively safe, but still close enough to see it all unfold.

We did see a group of Argentinians try and form a protective ring around the Germans and implore their countrymen (and women) to stop with the madness, but to no avail. This was all happening when the game was still up for grabs. Not that we saw it then, but later highlights did show Messi with a free kick from a dangerous spot that could have taken the game to penalties. But this was all lost in the insanity that had erupted.

The Germans quickly retreated and got well away, only to be replaced by some locals and possibly the same Argentinians who had tried to stop the craziness. The space created from the initial surge was now some sort of no-mans land with people running through to collect more ammo, others running through to try and king hit anyone within arm’s reach, and one crazy bitch taking it to a whole ‘nother level. Spots fights were popping up all over the place and we couldn’t tell if it was Argy v Argy or Argy v Brazilian.

Tried to get  a shot of the Argys going crazy but they wouldn't stop and pose for me

The cops finally arrived and quickly quietened things down – a few swings of the baton can do that. We milled about for a while later, and the after party we had expected to rage all night along the Copacabana foreshore was nowhere to be seen. Not that we would have hung around for it with the mood most of the Argys were in.

You kind of felt sorry for the Germans who didn’t really get to celebrate what could have been one of the proudest and happiest times of their lives (if they are as big a sports nut as my good self) but at the same time we did get to witness something I don’t think I’ll see again for a very long time – well not until we go to an arch-rival Brazilian game, or of course an Argentinian one.

Rio World Cup Street Art - The best side all Cup

Foz do Iguaçu: F_ck Virgins, Let’s Get Drunk!

  Cataratas do Iguaçu in all its glory

I must apologise for the vulgar language used in the title, but hopefully it will become apparent shortly. I should also point out that the Iguaçu Falls are one of the most specular natural phenomena that I have seen to date – they rate alongside the Serengeti, Torres del Paine, Wadi Rum, Petra, Abu Simbel (not that those last two are natural) and far exceeds Victoria Falls (although we did only get to see Vic Falls during low water, and we didn’t go to the Zambia side so maybe a little harsh on the ‘far exceeds’ call).

We spent two days at Parque Nacional do Iguaçu, one in Brazil and one in Argentina. Our first was spent on the Brazilian side, and we were amazed at how much a part of the falls you were able to feel. The walkways allow you too actually walk above some of the falls and get near on in the mouths of some of the others. The other thing that blew us away was the sheer number of falls. Each one would be worth a 2 hour hike and entrance fee on their own right, but Iguaçu Falls gives you between 150 and 300 (depending on water levels) to ‘wet’ your appetite on. And given the recent rains in the area I would hazard a guess that we were nearing the 250 mark.

Overlooking Salto Floriano, Benjamin Constant (Brazil) & Belgrano (Argentina)

Unfortunately the recent rains and subsequent high water levels had caused a significant amount of damage to a number of walkways on the Argentinian side. We debated whether we would do this side, as we were required to pay our Argentinian visa of $100 US, which is valid for a year, but we don’t have any intention of returning to Argentina this year. So $100 for one day is at the high end of our budget. But in the end common sense prevailed, and we made the trip across the border. And although I would love to have been able to get out to the platform above Garganta do Diabo (Devil’s Throat), I was not in the least bit disappointed.

Salto Tres Mosqueteros (Argentina)

Salto Floriano (Brazil), Isla San Martin & Salto Mbiguá (Argentina)

Salto Bossetti, Eva, Guardaparque Bernabé Méndez & Mbiguá (Argentina)

The Brazilian side gives you the grander view of the falls, but the Argentinian side allow you to feel, or experience the falls. The walkways wind themselves between, over and almost under some of the falls. You get to take them in from their highest point all the way down to where they crash into the lower Iguaçu River, all whilst getting drenched from head to toe. An unbelievable experience, and one definitely worth the price of admission.

Overlooking Salto Ramirez & Bossetti (Argentina)

Trying to get a clear photo in the trying conditions was quite the mission

We split these two days of enjoying the falls with a night out for the Brazil v Germany semi-final, and a night in for the Holland v Argentina semi. For the Brazil game we thought we would try and get in amongst the locals and sample a few froths, and take in what we had hoped to be some great atmosphere.

The first place we tried were charging a minimum R$75 (that is you need to order a minimum of R$75 worth of food and drink, or you will be charged the R$75 regardless), and given Nic was thinking of having a night off the turps we thought this was a little too much. The next place told us they only had a R$15 door price…Well so we thought. Probably should have had them write the price down, as a few disappointed hours later, we were informed of the correct price.

Anyway, we got ourselves a table with a good view of the tele and sat back as the pub began to fill. The place was packed by kick off but that was about as good as it got. In the space of 5 minutes the Brazilians in the place went from upbeat, to hopeful, to shocked, to sad, to complete an utter emotionally traumatised – maybe that’s stretching it a little, but they really didn’t know what to do with themselves. We didn’t know how they were going to react, but to their credit, they realised they were completely and utterly outplayed, and in the second half the majority if the fans still in the pub took to applauding the remaining goals and scoring chances of both sides. A credit to them.

The pub quickly emptied soon after the final whistle and we followed suite. Only to be informed that the R$15 door price we had heard was actually R$50, and we were all a few drinks short of this magic number. We also got our third shock/surprise of the night when we realised they had charged Nic full price for a virgin piña colada – really it is her own fault for being responsible and not drinking. Well that changed 5 minutes and 2 cocktails later! (Hence the title)

Once we had all reached our quota, R$50 each exactly, we headed to the check out to pay the bill. It is somewhat standard in Brazil to tip 10% and all along we have been happy to pay this, as the service is usually top notch. On this occasion, we felt we had been jipped a number of times, and decided that this particular restaurant did not deserve and extra R$15 for simply for opening a few long necks for me and Al, and seducing unknowing virgins along the way. Yes, petty I know. Anyway, apparently we were wrong on this front as well. A tip is not standard or customary, it is mandatory – at least at our favourite pub in Foz do Iguaçu it was.

Given we weren’t jumping at the chance to head back there the next night to watch the second semi, we decided to stay in at the hostel and enjoy it there. Most of us, or at least us 3, were hoping for a Holland victory, not so much because we like Holland, more so that an Argentina loss would have resulted in a Brazil v Argentina 3^rd place match, which may have added a little spice to what I’m sure (and I may be wrong here) is usually, pretty much, a dead rubber.

Alas, it was not to be, so we will have to settle for a World Cup Final in Rio not involving Brazil – not a bad consolation prize!

Native fauna of Parque Nacional do Iguaçu

Floripa II: Luis Suárez Incarnated

Praia da Lagoinha do Leste 

After 11 hours of travel, including a boat ride, a taxi and 5 buses we made it back to Floripa to scenes of celebration and debauchery – in a good way. Brazil had just got past Chile in the penalty shootout and there wasn’t a sober person to be found at the hostel, Barra Beach Club.

This became somewhat of a theme for our second stay in Floripa. Game day routine usually meant waking up just in time to enjoy the hostels breakfast, a swim at the beach in an attempt to cure the hangover/sober up, a friendly game of beach soccer and then back up to the hostel bar to start the shenanigans all over again.

We ended up staying at Barra Beach Club for 8 nights and on about day 7 one of the hostel newcomers asked us what was good to do around the place. We all looked at each other and really couldn’t answer him with much more than, ‘enjoy the beach, the games and the beverages’. We did manage to achieve some things on non-game days, with a trip down to the south of the island to check out Pântano do Sul the main adventure.

Pântano do Sul

From here we hiked through to Praia da Lagoinha do Leste, considered by some as the ‘Jewel of the Island’. Although it was spectacular, I wouldn’t go that far. Still it was great to actually do something other than feeling sorry for yourself and lazing around all day – not that those things aren’t great to do, just in moderation.

Praia da Lagoinha do Leste

Ledge Ledge

Highlights have to include meeting some likewise-minded lads from Queensland, a rapping performance to last the ages, getting introduced to Natasha (cheap, very cheap Vodka), witnessing the aftermath of Warung Beach Club (rated as one of the world’s best clubs), meeting some of the local dogs (Lola – an age weary veteran who has developed a crablike walk, Frango – an aptly named small fella [frango is Portuguese for chicken] who doesn’t like people celebrating too loudly, and Ledge Ledge – who thought she/he was more cat than dog and took to spending his days atop a ledge outside the hostel) and finally getting some decent waves, but meeting Luis Suárez incarnated takes the cake.

After the Brazil v Columbia Quarter Final, fair to say there were a number of inebriated folks getting about the hostel. One chap seemed to be down on his luck and was sitting at the top of the stairs leading to the bar. He wasn’t in much of a state to continue in the festivities so Toddy (one of the Queensland lads) took it upon himself to try and encourage Old Mate to head to bed. I left the two together to let Toddy work his magic only to have a somewhat bewildered and bemused Toddy come back inside minutes later saying Luis Suárez was back in town.

Warung aftermath

Story goes Old Mate didn’t take too kindly to Toddy’s suggestions and decided the best course of action was to bite him. This wasn’t the smartest of moves given Toddy was wearing a jumper so he didn’t get much purchase on any flesh (he still managed to leave impressive enough teeth marks), and he was sitting atop some rather steep stairs.

Toddy’s reaction was to simply shove the biter off him, and perhaps direct that shove down the stairs. Apparently Old Mate took quite the tumble, but was able to be walked back to his room and get a few spews out of the way along the journey. He was quickly and quietly gone the next morning (whether he cut his stay short or not, we don’t know) so we really never got a good look at the infamous biter, which leads me to believe that it may have in fact being Luis Suárez himself!

After finally managing to tear ourselves away from Floripa we booked an overnight bus ride to Foz do Iguaçu. But Floripa wasn’t quite done with us yet. Leaving the hostel a little over 2 hours before our scheduled bus ride should have given us more than enough breathing room for any mishaps along the way, and given it was a lazy Sunday afternoon we didn’t expect too much traffic. How we were wrong.

The standard journey to get out of Barra takes 20 minutes, ours took an hour and 40 minutes, leaving about 25 minutes to get to the station – a trip that usually take 35 – 40 minutes on the local bus. Enter the Michael Schumacher of Brazilian taxi drivers – but to be fair, I have a sneaking suspicion that all South American taxi drivers have a little Schumacher in them. Our man managed to break every road law I know, including a breezy 140km/hr in an 80km/hr zone, hitting speed bumps like they were launch pads, and get us there with 10 minutes to spare – you’re welcome!

Ilha do Mel: The Orbit of the Sun

Gruta das Encantadas

Leaving Curitiba meant we had finished our Socceroos tour (of sorts) and were going to try and get into tourist mode. And what better place to start than Ilha do Mel – an island of ‘picturesque beaches, wild coastlines and scenic walks’. Or so we had read.

After already enjoying the pristine surrounds of Ilha Grande, we were quite excited to see what Ilha do Mel had to offer – although we were not utterly disappointed, it wasn’t quite what it was made out to be. Still it was a great place to escape and enjoy a few quite days of relaxing - swimming, cooking, eating, reading and doing whatever we wanted. Holidays are always good for that.

Praia de Fora and Praia do Farol

We took up residence at what we found out to be the larger of the island’s towns, Encantadas where most of the pousadas, hostels, hotels and restaurants sit right on top of the water’s edge. Unfortunately being on the western side (facing the mainland) meant there was no swell but a shortish stroll to the other main town, Brasília was meant to take us past some of the more ‘surf inducing’ beaches.

The hike took us past Gruta das Encantadas, a natural cave at the high tide mark, countless beaches and a view of the distant fort. On one of our more adventurous days we took all of this in, along with Farol das Conchas (lighthouse) and a few swims along the way. A cheap boat ride back to Encantadas allowed us to see the other side of the island viewed from the water and get back to the hostel to take in one of the many surreal sunsets the ‘Island of Honey’ had to offer.

Farol das Conchas

But for the majority we just sat back, relaxed and watched the sun do its merry thing.

Ilha do Mel Sunset