November 17, 2011 was a day that, without me realizing it at
the time, would drastically affect my trip to Rio.
Dan and Jason and I were on the same flight, so we shared a
cab to the airport. When I got to the check-in counter they scanned my passport
and no record came up. I figured there must be some mistake, so I pulled up the
confirmation email. I was right, there was a mistake. I had input my flight
details for February 17 when I was booked to fly on the 16th. When
had I booked that flight? November 17.
While Dan and Jason went past security, I put myself on
standby. I was told to wait and check in 45 minutes before the flight to know
whether or not I’d made it. For the next hour I sat in the main terminal
researching every which way I could get to Rio if I wasn’t on the flight. I
didn’t matter. I got on. I rushed through the terminal with only 20 minutes
left to board. Again, didn’t matter. The flight was delayed. When we actually
got on the plane, I counted five empty seats. Figures.
I arrived in Rio, got to the hostel, dropped everything, and
grabbed a beer. I stayed a few blocks from the arches and the main square in
Lapa and the streets were teeming with people. Busses, taxis and cars were at a
standstill while locals and tourists alike were drinking and dancing around.
This would become a running theme. Lapa was one of the hot spots of Carnaval. The
two guys I went out with were from Melbourne – Adam and Spencer. There would be
a lot more partying with them to come. As we’re walking around the streets, out
of the crowd I hear a “CALIFORNIA!” I turn around and see two girls I’d met in Peru.
They were part of a long train of people dancing. I was so shocked to see them
that it took a moment for me to register what was going on. By the time I could
even respond, they were swallowed up in the crowd. I went in search of them but
found nothing. In doing so I got separated from Spencer and Adam. By now it was
late, I was drunk, and ready for bed.
The next day was a bit of a wash. Most of the hostel was
hungover, myself included. There were talks of going to the beach but nothing
ever came of it. By the time anyone had rallied together to do something it was
early evening. So “doing something” became “drinking something.”
I went back out into the Lapa streets for another night of
dancing. Unfortunately this night I got a little carried away and forgot to be
mindful of my surroundings. In Rio, muggings and pickpockets are highly common.
I was no less immune than anyone else. As we went out into the streets I got
swallowed up in a crowd of people. In most circumstances I am aware of my
pockets. This time, however, I had gotten so lost in the music and atmosphere
that I forgot all about it. Big mistake. When I came out of the crowd, I
checked my shorts. My camera was gone. Money and phone were still intact, but
even putting everything in the cargo pockets of my shorts did no use.
Despite the loss, I was having so much fun that I almost
didn’t care. Again the melee that was Lapa separated me from Spencer and Adam.
And oddly enough, I ran into Tim and Josh, the two Aussies I hiked Macchu Piccu
with. I joined their group and continued partying the rest of the night.
My hostel room consisted of five guys and one girl. The next
morning was the first time that we all caught a glimpse of her morning routine.
It consisted of getting completely naked in front of everyone and lathering
herself for a good 45 minutes before getting dressed. That morning all of us
were in the room while she did it. Being that all of us were either hungover or
still drunk, we all had a good laugh about it. Especially her.
Adam, Spencer and I set off for the beach in the afternoon.
We went to Copacabana to meet up with a friend Spencer had made earlier in his
trip. However, getting there was turning into a problem. A block party had just
ended and there were swarms of people trying to leave Lapa. The line for the
subway was horrendously long and it was impossible to find a taxi. When we did,
they wanted to charge a 50 Reai flat fee. Normally on a meter it would be less
than 25. After nearly an hour of searching for something, we were able to find
a bus. And that’s when things got interesting.
When we got on, there was a whole slew of screaming. One woman
was yelling at the driver then towards the back. The driver then starts yelling
at this group of kids roughly 10 to12 years old. The bus continued on down the
street but the commotion refused to die down. Another few minutes of chaos
passed before the bus driver stopped. He got out and called over a couple of
cops. The kids then proceeded to jump out the bus windows and run down the
street. The bus erupted into cheers and
we were back on our way.
Spencer, Adam and I just looked at each other like “what the
hell just happened.” It wasn’t until a little while later that a bi-lingual
woman explained what happened. Apparently the kids in the back were smoking and
the woman was complaining that her son couldn’t breathe. She asked the kids to
stop and they told her to “fuck off.”
You see some crazy things when you’re travelling.
Spencer’s friends: Sebastian, Ella and Leanne are all from
England and all really cool people. We spent the next couple hours on the beach
lounging in the sand and soaking up the sun. After a while, Spencer went back
to the hostel to meet up with Tony Garnicki, a buddy of mine from high school. He
is also the first person I know from home to have met me on the road.
We were off to the Sambadrome to see the world famous
Carnaval parade. Tickets for the good sections were being sold for anywhere
between 400 to 650 Reais. (roughly 250 to 330 USD) We were told that scalping
tickets would yield a price for roughly half that. And that’s when our
adventure began. The first broker we ran across was missing an arm, had a glass
eye, and refused to show us the tickets before hand. Needless to say, we didn’t
trust him and moved on.
The next broker tried to sell us a good section for 400. We
tried to get him down to 300, but he wasn’t budging at 350. While we were
continuing to barter, a young couple from Argentina came up to us and offered
to sell us two for 300 a piece. We needed three and they were gracious enough
to find another broker who would sell one to us for 300 as well.
Minutes later we had tickets and were inside the Sambadrome.
Upon entry, ushers are there to hand you loads of programs and schedules and
condoms. Yes…condoms. I guess there’s a lot of fucking in the bathrooms? The
entire place is crammed with energy. People get absolutely amped for the parade
and with good reason. Over two nights a collection of 12 to 13 schools have
their own parade. Each school is given one song, which is played on repeat for
the entire 90 minutes that they parade down this stadium. This is something
they plan all year for and it shows. There’s an insane amount of detail put
into each float, and each school has about ten. In between the floats there are
hundreds of people parading down the aisle. Each group dressed in some
different elaborately themed costume. All of this is to celebrate their song
and the theme they’ve come up with to match it. Meanwhile, everyone in the
stands is dancing the entire time. It’s unlike anything I’d ever seen before.
As an outsider and non-Portuguese speaker it can get a
little redundant. I believe if you knew the background to each school’s theme
and understood it’s meaning, it would be a lot more enjoyable. Regardless, I
enjoyed it tremendously. The only reason we didn’t stay longer is because it
goes until 530am. We left at 230am so we could get some shred of sleep before
our big day tomorrow.
After an early miscommunication and an hour delay, we were
all headed towards the south of the city for the most quintessential thing you
could do in Rio: Hang gliding. Adam, Spencer, Tony and I were picked up by our
tour guide Fernando and taken through the streets and mountains of Santa
Teresa. This section of town is one reason I would love to go back. The houses
are all nestled in the hills above the city and offer stunning views. There
used to be a cable car that ran through but was shut down due to an accident.
If it ever gets back up and running, this would be a must-see in Rio.
Hang gliding takes place well past the tourist spots of
Copacabana, Ipanema and Leblond at the Sao Conrado beach. Because of our
tardiness, Fernando had to scramble to find two instructors last minute. This
meant that only two of us could go at a time. While Spencer and Adam went up,
Tony and I hung back on the beach talking with Fernando. He’s about 60, but
he’s one of the most spry, upbeat 60 year olds I’ve ever met. He told us about
his 25 years as a Hang glider test pilot and how at one time he’d been able to
fly for well over an hour all the way out to the Christ the Redeemer statue and
back to land on the beach. What’s impressive is that not only is the statue a significant
distance from the takeoff point; it’s also at a higher elevation. He had to hit
multiple hot air pockets to pick him back up. When you actually see the distance
in real life, it’s mind blowing.
After an hour of stories Adam and Spencer had gotten their
flight in and it was Tony’s and my turn. We were driven up the mountain and
waited in line as our instructors set up the gliders. The take off platform is
550m (1800ft) up the hill. You watch everyone else in front of you running off
this ledge and just gliding gracefully down towards the beach. About all the
instruction you get is to practice running in unison with the instructor and
you’re told not to jump, just run straight off. Seems natural, right? Much like
skydiving, you try not to think about it and just focus on how much fun it’s
going to be. Easier said than done. I wasn’t nervous until I actually got onto
the platform and was staring down the runway dropoffx.
You aren’t given much time to think before you’re running
and are off the platform. There’s a split second of drop before the wind
catches you and you’re floating over this massive canyon of jungle. It’s an
amazing experience. It’s actually pretty relaxing to let the wind carry you
like that. We were in the air for about 15 minutes as we circled down towards
the beach where we landed rather ungracefully.
After a 45-minute pit-stop inside a favela market to pick up
a phone for Adam, we were off into the mountains for a scenic drive. Coupled
with some absolutely stunning views of the city (which is unbelievably large –
and unbelievably picturesque) it was really nice to be in the tranquility of
the jungle rather than the hustle and bustle of the city.
As the afternoon grew later, we went up to Christ the
Redeemer. We got there around 6pm. The crowds had died down but it was still
fairly well packed. The statue was pretty cool (apparently it’s the largest Art
Deco statue in the world) but more importantly the placement of it offers some
of the best views in the city. What struck me as fascinating is that the reason
the statue was built was not because of the large Catholic population of Brazil
– which it does have – but mainly as a tourist attraction for a growing city.
Our next and final stop was Sugar Loaf Mountain. We stopped
at the car park near the walk up and had some Açaí (pronounced Ah-sah-ee – NOT Ah-kai)
with granola. This is like an Açaí
slushee and it’s extremely delicious. After our quick snack, we went for
a half our hike to skip the first gondola. This is when I found out how spry
Fernando really was. This hike was almost straight uphill and he led the entire
way. None of our “young” legs could even keep pace with him. We got to the gondola
and took it up to the mountain just in time to catch sunset.
The sun setting over Rio is probably the most amazing sunset
I’ve ever seen. The landscape of the city nestled amongst the rolling hills
makes for one of the most picturesque settings. The sun setting behind it only
adds to its beauty. After the sun dropped we went back to Lapa to meet up with
Ella, Leslie & Sebastian where we partied the night away.
Fat Tuesday was spent capping off an awesome week Carnaval
by joining a blocco and partying on the beach. Spencer and I went out into the
streets to join an early afternoon blocco. This largely consists of a small
truck with a sound system, a marching band, and a singer. Large swarms of
people swarm in and dance and sing about as they swarm through the streets
playing music. It all lasts for a few hours and….IT’S SO MUCH FUN!
After that was done a large group of people from the hostel
went down to Ipanema. We bought a couple handles of liquor, a few bottles of
coke and created a party on the beach. In all, there were probably a good
twenty of us together. We stayed on the beach drinking and bullshitting with
each other as we watched the sun set behind us. After dark we wandered the
streets of Ipanema in search of some mischief to get into. But all we were able
to find was the metro station. I have no idea how we ended up in there – one
minute we were in a crowd, the next minute we were in the metro station. Oh
well. It was time to go back anyways. Back in Lapa we did the same thing we’d
done every night before.
The next day I was scheduled to leave for Santiago. After my
fiasco in Uruguay, I was completely paranoid about screwing up another flight.
Turns out that paranoia was warranted. My booking was for November 22, 2011.
When did I book this flight? You guessed it – November 17, 2011. Oops.
Instead I extended my stay a night and booked a flight to
Mendoza for the next day.
