It has been requested that I keep a log of my movements abroad, and make you all green with envy at my adventures in South America.
Well maybe not too envious. A word of advice for any of you who would make the same assumption I did, that Air France might provide half decent plane food, and more importantly decent wine. In fact. Non. C'est faux. Tastes like piiiss.
Well maybe not too envious. A word of advice for any of you who would make the same assumption I did, that Air France might provide half decent plane food, and more importantly decent wine. In fact. Non. C'est faux. Tastes like piiiss.
Nonetheless, I chugged it down hoping it would help me sleep. And it did. Until I woke up three hours later with serious dehydration, a banging headache and a strange man next to me who had decided to move into the empty seat because his tv didn't work.
Luckily, this sheer disappointment did not last too long. Once I arrived in Rio safe and sound, Nei the cab driver, informed me that I had arrived on a bank holiday Monday. A day for Saint Sebastian, the first Portuguese to arrive in Rio. Hence the original name of the city, Sao Sebastiao do Rio de Janeiro. Janeiro - January the month he arrived. Oh right, no way.
Where roads were closed along the sea front, cars were replaced by people celebrating. And so it all began.
Where roads were closed along the sea front, cars were replaced by people celebrating. And so it all began.
I must admit, that after having spent so much time making my own travel plans for Argentina, I had not taken any interest in where I would be staying with my parents for the first week in Rio. So there was me, smelly and tired backpacker dropped outside of THE Copacabana Palace, dumbstruck and insisting in Spanish at the reception that my parents were expecting me here.
And so week one in Brazil, Rio de Janeiro was pure bliss. Please see below to begin feeling envious.
Despite being your typical holiday (eating and sleeping and eating), a lot of exercise was involved. Including an accidental 10k bike ride one scorchingly hot afternoon. Dad came out like a beetroot.
Then of course visiting Sugarloaf Mountain was sweet. And was only a taste of some of the views we would be getting over the next few days. Absolutely increible.
Oh and look at this monkey!
Down the back alleys of Rio was a whole other experience. Particularly good was the famous Escadaria de Selaron, where in 1990 Selaron, an eccentric Chilean artist, began covering some 300 steps leading from Santa Theresa to Lapas in mosaic like fashion. By the time of his death last month, thought to be suicide, he had become known for his work world wide and was able to complete it with tiles sent to him from travelers from over 120 countries.
I even found one of Northern Ireland, which has been so artistically hand drawn it puts the rest of them to shaame.
I must also admit that on Thursday, the last night, we did make our way out to a late night Samba bar, where we got pissed and tried to shake our asses with local Brazilians.
Luckily we left for Iguazu the next day and never saw these people again.
Then of course visiting Sugarloaf Mountain was sweet. And was only a taste of some of the views we would be getting over the next few days. Absolutely increible.
Oh and look at this monkey!
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| El Mono |
Down the back alleys of Rio was a whole other experience. Particularly good was the famous Escadaria de Selaron, where in 1990 Selaron, an eccentric Chilean artist, began covering some 300 steps leading from Santa Theresa to Lapas in mosaic like fashion. By the time of his death last month, thought to be suicide, he had become known for his work world wide and was able to complete it with tiles sent to him from travelers from over 120 countries.
Sadly my Sportuguese often failed me; I gave up pretty quick after asking a waitor for ice cream, to instead receive cheese strings. All the more reason to look forward to reaching Argentina. Thank God, a Spanish speaking country.
¡Pues que nada!
Having heard such great things about the nightlife in Rio, I am
afraid I may have missed out a tad. But I can't complain. I've never felt more spoilt after drinking from Copacabana branded straws and having a chocolate placed on my pillow each night. Not to mention having pool towels replaced whilst I was still sitting on it. Err no thanks. Don't make me move while I'm sleeping.¡Pues que nada!
I must also admit that on Thursday, the last night, we did make our way out to a late night Samba bar, where we got pissed and tried to shake our asses with local Brazilians.
Luckily we left for Iguazu the next day and never saw these people again.









