More from Rio

The Botanical Garden of Rio de Janeiro was a project of  D. João VI, first king of Brazil. Now a days it is an important research institution for botany and biology. It's a peaceful haven in the middle of all the Rio madness. 

For me it was a lesson to do your own research.  Had we not been told it was among the top ten botanical gardens in the world, we would have thought it lovely.  Instead we felt disappointed.  The avenue of palm trees was impressive and I know I would have loved the Orchid House had it been open.  However, it was a good outing for a Quiet Day.  When I was suffering a bit from the unaccostomed exertions, it was good to find a quiet activity while I regained my energy. 

Earlier in the day we'd taken a bus to see a favela.  Few sights have been more disturbing to me. I wonder why tourists would want to go on a favela tour.  It just doesn't seem right to do tourism in poverty.  On the beach one night when Bernie played touch rugby with his mates from Rio, I met and was charmed by the Passione brothers from a favela.  I was touched by their respect for me as a senior person.  They welcomed me with smiling grace.  They were beautiful, happy and smiling.  When they ran around playing touch they were fast and graceful on the sand.  I felt priveleged to have met them.   

Everywhere I looked in Brasil, it was the contrasts that hit me.  In the favela it was the beauty of the trees growing amongst the poverty, and the invisible line between the favela and the apartments in the area.  The haves and the have nots so close. 

I don't know whether Ipenema or Cococabana is the more famous.  We were staying in Ipenema, just around the corner from the bar where The Girl from Ipenema was written.  I imagined I heard the Ahs from the men in the bar as the young beauty, Heloísa Eneida Menezes Paes Pinto, walked by.

Tall and tan and young and lovely

The girl from Ipanema goes walking

And when she passes, each one she passes goes - ah

We caught another bus to visit the Copacabana Palace.  We realized as we crossed the road towards it, that we were carrying our water bottle in a while plastic supermarket bag.  Not exactly the look we were aiming for as we planned to waltz on in as if we owned the place.  We didn't get past the reception staff just inside the door but Bernie managed to talk our way in for a visit to the pool and bar while I stood there and tried to look at home.  It was very elegant, quiet and subdued.  Apparantly the rich don't even splash much when they swim.  They most certainly don't shriek or laugh out loud.  But little girls like to swing under the tables here as much as anywhere.

At the Copa, Copacabana (Copacabana)

The hottest spot north of Havana (here)

At the Copa (CO!), Copacabana

Music and passion were always the fashion

At the Copa....they fell in love

We caught another bus back to our hostel, collected our bags and walked to the Lagoa where Bernie's car was parked.

We were headed to Ibitipoca National Park, way off the beaten track. 

Review Rio

I want to record it all in case I forget even a minute of it.  I know there are bits I’ve forgotten already.  But I’m grasping at what is still fresh. 

An overnight stay in Santiago, Chile came first.  I’d scoffed when friends had teased me about South American men, thinking I’m impervious to the greatest of charmers.  Hah!  The very first one I met, a taxi driver, could easily have swept me away, had I been 20 years younger, of course.  Oh, alright, 30 years younger.

 

I know fellow blogger, Ginger, a former Rio de Janeiro resident is keen to hear my impressions of Rio.  It’s nearly a month since I landed there and my lasting impression is much the same as the first.  It was an assault on my senses.  The heat, the noise, the sights, the smells.  They were all strange and new to me.  But the main impression was (and still is) the contrasts, the beauty and the ugliness, the extreme natural beauty, the wealth and the poverty.

We spent my first afternoon on Ipenema Beach.  You know what the beaches are like where I live, right?  I like them deserted and if there are people around, I like them at a distance.  I’m accustomed to listening to the waves breaking on the shore.  Ipenema was crowded.  We found a vacant spot, hired chairs and an umbrella and I lay back and stared.  There was so much to look at.  People, people, all sorts of people.  Those there for the surf (not many of them), those there to catch the rays, those there to be seen and those there trying to make a buck.  I felt so sorry for the vendors, trudging up and down the hot sand, under that hot, hot sun.  Shouting to advertise their wares.  So many shouting at once, so much noise and close enough to the road to be able to hear the noise of traffic as well.

 

I guess I was a bit jet lagged on my second day.  I encountered my first Brasillian queue, the first of many.  It was very long, the day was scorching and I don’t do standing very well.   There must be a better way to move the scores of visitors to the statue of Christ the Redeemer.  But it seems that Brasillians accept queues as part of life.  And I guess most visitors are like me and would be prepared to put up with the disorganisation just to be there, to see this fabulous icon and stand there at its feet and look out over the natural beauty of Rio.  I  felt quite overcome by it all, could barely believe it was me, there.

 An unexpected stop on our guided tour was a visit to The Chinese View in the Tijuca Forest.  Our guide told us its interesting history but I can’t remember the details and today Google has been no help.  It offered a lower, different perspective of the city.   

Before calling it a day we had a stop at Escadaria Selaron, 250 steps which are covered in over 2,000 tiles collected from over 60 countries around the world.  We found the Kiwi tiles eventually.