Rio de Janeiro

As we landed, the first thing that struck us about Rio was the fact that it was p*ssing down, and a little bit nippy. A poor start to say the least, and not exactly what we'd expected, or packed for. The images we had in our heads of whipping out our luminescent thongs and mingling effortlessly with the bronzed locals of Copacobana were slowly becoming just a dream, as the first thing to come out of the backpack was our macintosh.

As soon as we made it through customs we were jumped on by an overly keen taxi driver, who promptly pointed us in the direction of his mate `the trolley handler`, who could change our money without charging commission. We politely declined, and hurried on to the `Real` Bus which we had read would take us into town and hopefully somewhere near our hostel.

For city driving, New York was bad enough, but Rio has to be one of the craziest places on earth to use public transport. Generally, 4 lanes of traffic compete in an endless race to make it to a non-existent finishing line. And the bus drivers are the worst, basically living out Michael Schumacher fantasies in 30-feet Volkwagen wagons - Lots of fun, but you wouldn´t fancy hiring a car.

We made it to our hostel, checked in, and found ourselves in an 10 x 8 feet box room, with a small balcony, and portable tv.
(On talking to others, we later discovered that the balcony and the tv were a bonus). It seemed like a nice enough place though, with friendly staff, and plenty of information to help us negotiate the coming few days. After being forced into sawing through one of our impressively broken combination locks (handily, there was a chap building things in our corridor so I half-inched his hacksaw), and as the rain was still pelting by late afternoon, we went for a very short stroll to the beach, before heading back for a spot of grub in a local ´Kilo-bar´. The concept is pretty simple: Look lost, manager hands you a soup bowl and waves at the buffet counter. Fill your bowls with hot sloppy stuff, and your plate with steak, chicken, salad, potato thingy's (various shapes and sizes) and whatever else takes your fancy, a soft drink and a beer, weigh it up, and pay the lovely checkout girl a whopping 30 Reais (7 Quid) for the privilege. By no means a Gourmet affair, but ´hearty´ would probably be an apt description.

So, with our oils and slingbacks at the ready, Tuesday morning came, and we were expecting some sunshine. Unfortunately, it wasnt to be - overcast, but slightly better than the previous day. We headed in the direction of Botafogo, lost the will to hunt any further for the tourist information and carried on walking in the general direction of 'Centro'. As expected, we managed to get a little lost (it was a bad map of course), but hopped on a bus with the help of a pleasant, if slightly confused (he said he supported Newcastle) Portuguese chap, and eventually found what we were looking for: a large area, very similar to London's West End, with lots of shouty little Brazilian men standing on street corners. Still not sure what they were shouting about, but it didnt seem to bother them. The more we looked confused, the more they shouted. Had lunch/dinner in a nice little Italian; again, ridiculous prices, although we are told that Rio is the most expensive South American place to eat and sleep!

On Wednesday, the sun finally arrived, so we took a walk to Copacabana beach, followed by neighbouring Ipanema. Both are pretty impressive stretches of sand, but it still wasn´t quite warm enough to get the locals packing them out. There were however a few strange old men in leotard-style suits doing stretches and using the beachside gym set-ups. All a bit random. Stopped for a 'Coco' after seeing about a million locals with one, only to discover that it's a pretty bland watery-coconut drink. Sat in traffic on a bus back to the hostel for 2 hours and arrived just in time for our pre-booked trip.

Christ The Redeemer (O Cristo Redentor) is a 100ft high, 30ft wide, 700 tonne stone statue which sits atop Corcovado, a 2,100ft hunch-backed peak. Since its eventual completion by French engineers in 1931, this figure has been one of the most famous symbols of Rio and is visible night and day from most of the city's neighbourhoods. This however does not prepare you for seeing it up close, and the general panaoramic views from the top. Well worth the visit. Our guide, Paulo, was a good lad with a host of bad jokes for his tourists. The strangest part however, was getting off the coach and being presented with a series of escalators which take you to the monument. It seems Otis get everywhere these days...

Thursday was Brazilian Independence day, but we were told that the various shops in Santa Theresa would be open for business. This seemed as good an option as any, so we made our way to the Tram stop by Metro (a cleaner, safer, and air-conditioned version of London Underground). The Tram itself takes you high up into the hills of the colonial 19th Century suburb, winding its way through narrow, tree-lined streets. Its the sort of ride that throws you about a bit, and the guidebook said to jump off when everyone else does. Great advice, unless no-one actually jumps off. We had been going roughly 20 minutes when the driver declared (or so we are told) that he was now turning around, and we had to either pay the 90 cents return fee or be left stranded in the hills. 25 pence seemed like a small price to pay.

That evening, I (Dan) had booked to see a game at the Maracana, one of Brazils international football stadiums. It was a South American Cup Game between Botafogo and Fluminense, two local Rio rivals, so the atmosphere was always going to be pretty good, but nothing really prepares you for a South American football match. Arriving at the stadium and finding our seats was a very intimidating experience ("don´t look at anyone" was the advice), but once we were actually in the ground the locals made us feel very welcome. Teaching us some of their rather inventive local anthems such as ´Go F*ck Yourself Fluminense´ was enlightening to say the least. I think its safe to say that we were lucky it finished 1-1 with a second leg to play, as the Botafogo fans were getting a little restless at 1-0 down.

For us, that was Rio done and dusted. We would have loved to have spent a few more days there, but time is against us. We missed Sugar Loaf mountain, the Tijuca Rain Forest and I´m sure many other attractions but it gives us a good excuse to go back at some point. It´s an amazing city, with friendly people and a lively feel. We feel that the guidebooks use scare-tactics to help tourists stay safe, but I can´t say that we felt even slightly intimidated when walking the streets. I´m sure that crime exists, like it does in any other big city, and admittedly we weren´t wandering the streets late at night. Learn a smattering of Portuguese, and the locals will invariably reward you for it, but possibly have a little laugh at you on the way...

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