Rio de Janeiro. Rolls
off the tongue when you pronounce it and your mind’s eye instantly materializes
with vivid images of tropical beaches or aerial panoramas of Christ the
Redeemer. It tickles the senses as much
as an exotic samba dancer in full-feathered costume, doesn't it? What a pleasantly sounding name! I wonder what would the name be today had the
Portuguese – back in 1502 – realized that what they had actually stumbled upon
was not the mouth of a river, but rather a bay (today called Guanabara);
and if instead of January 1st, they arrived a day earlier? How does Golfo (or Baía) de Dezembro sound to
you? Funny thing, history sometimes, ain’t
it?
Regardless. The
“River of January” it is, but no matter the name, who doesn't dream of visiting
– at least once in their lifetime – the land of Copacabana, bikini-clad
beauties, Samba, Maracanã, Pelé, Christo Redentor, and Carnival? And when the stars align and Rio becomes the
venue for the most highly anticipated World Cup in recent history, that
proposition becomes a no-brainer!
 |
| ... my "precious"... |
So after months and months of feverish planning, mockery
from non-believers, and a constantly gruesome hunt for the most sought-after
tickets in sporting history, the itinerary was done. Planned to the very last detail, for I wanted
to take in the beauty of the place as much as humanly possible. We had 4 and a half days in Rio and I was
determined to see and do as much as others would do in 10!
In the end, that amount of time was only enough to scratch
the surface (especially since a good part of it was spent watching the world
cup, either live at the Maracanã, at the Fan Zone on Copa, or in any of the
bars around). But it was enough to get a
sense of its raw natural beauty, of its stark contrast between poverty and
luxury, and especially of its warm, friendly, and free-spirited people. Amazing place, Rio!
 |
| Praia de Ipanema - steps from our balcony |
As hotel prices were prohibitive (can’t really blame them
for price-gouging since supply and demand were somewhere in the Germany-Brazil scoreline
ratio) the much-touted Clark Howard AirBnB solution became a more economical
alternative. But the price-gouging
plague was present there as well [seemed like most of the local travel and real
estate agents had that covered]. FlipKey
(from the more reputable Tripadvisor) turned out to be a better [safer] option
and our local host, the first welcoming Carioca
we met on this trip. I guess $400/night
can buy that kind of pleasantness, but Isabel was indeed genuine.
Our studio was literally less than 100 steps from Ipanema
beach [we thought Copacabana would be too crowded and noisy; assumptions that
turned out to be true] and although very quaint and clean, complete with gated
access, we clearly overpaid, since it was only used for a place to lay down
[late] at night and clean up in the morning before hitting the city again. I do recommend it, and I’m sure the prices
are a fraction of that during any other time of the year [Carnival excluded].
I connected with Ken – a wonderful Brit I met online [no, not that kind of online hookup ;-)] –
in a crowded bar Astor to exchange tickets.
But enough about football for now. I covered it in plenty detail in my recent
World Cup entries, and I’ll undoubtedly revisit it throughout this post, for it
was such a big part of the trip.
Back to Rio…
The first immersion into the local culture and cuisine was
lunch at Academia da Cachaça. Potent
Caipirinhas, delicious Feijoada, washed down with ice-cold Brahma [who knew
Brazil had such fantastic beer?] and an authentic atmosphere of locals who were
enjoying Sunday family lunch. I knew
from day one that this would be an enjoyable vacation!
Tickets in hand, full of anticipation, and wearing the
albiceleste we set off to Maracanã. I
caught a quick glimpse of the legendary stadium from afar during the earlier
cab ride from the airport, but as I stepped off the train, the grandiose
structure, adorned with colorful decorations, popped up as an immense glorious
temple to the beautiful game. The
expectation of setting foot in this iconic venue produced ample goosebumps, throat
lumps, and had my heart racing with excitement (kid-in-the-candy-store kind). But before that, I had to experience a solid
dose of rage directed at FIFA and the incompetence of a couple of people
responsible for “customer service”. I
won’t go into details again. You can
read about that unfortunate experience here.
Once in, I was stunned by the number of Argentinians in the
stands. Their heart-pumping chants made
me want to jump. Made me wish I knew
better Spanish. Yet, wearing the
albiceleste jersey with a big 10 on my back made me feel like one of them. Messi’s moment of brilliance [in an otherwise
low key game] gave them a reason to carry the party atmosphere well
into the night!
Jet-lagged, but already with a great story for the grand-kids,
we crashed, but not before enjoying a delicious tropical fruit juice night cap
at a street corner near the apartment. Tropical
fruits taste so much better … ahem… on the tropics! I could live on that stuff alone as a food
source. Yum!
Day 2, the obligatory trip to Corcovado and the Christ
Statue. Up early, to beat the crowds
that were undoubtedly hung over from partying the night before, meant that we
made it up before the fog had lifted. On
the plus side, it wasn't very crowded.
But visibility was low. They say
the best views from the top are after it rains, or in the afternoon, when the
weather clears… but we still caught a glimpse or two of the beach below and
Laguna Rodrigo de Freitas…. No aerial view of Maracanã, Sugarloaf or downtown
though… Something to put in the “next time” bucket.
The statue itself was absolutely imposing. And we caught some semi-solo pics to memorialize the experience. Word of advice: don’t take the Corcovado cog train up; everyone else does; it will be crowded and lines will be long (but the ride through the tropical forest could make up for it). Instead, book tickets in advance with the minivan through Paineiras and it will be less hectic (and they pick up/drop off right on Copacabana).
On the way back, the Fan Zone was another mandatory
stop. More so since Germany and Portugal
were about to lock horns. In the end, it
was more of a cat-and-mouse chase, with the game technically over by half time. Which was fine, as the mid-day sun was
already unbearable, despite the fact that we were less than a week away from Winter
Solstice in the southern hemisphere. I
wonder how hot it gets during the summer...
Less than a mile travelling SE, the other famous Rio beaches
line up: Ipanema – not as wide, and with a greater blend of locals and
tourists, and Leblon – where the tourist ranks thin out even more (and so does
the cheesiness factor). The ocean on
these beaches seems more tumultuous than in Copacabana, which is why I was
expecting more surfing activity. Maybe the
locals have their spots elsewhere. And
maybe the bikini beauties that you see in all the Rio ads hang out elsewhere
too, for I haven’t seen many. Or maybe
they’re just Photoshoped! Hmmm…
Omnipresent, however, is the soccer ball, with boys and girls of all ages drawn
to it as if it were a magnet; it was fun to watch, although frankly I didn't
see a lot of ‘quality’. For that, one
would have to go up to the favelas, where all the promising young talent is
born.
After a good dose of Ipanema beach, time for another “must”
in Rio: a samba show. Typically, a few
months before Carnaval all the schools start practicing and tourists can watch them
rehearse. But otherwise, Plataforma is a
great alternative. It’s a
dinner-and-a-show tourist trap, but the quality of the show is actually quite
good, giving you enough appreciation for the local folklore, music, dancing,
and costumes. It goes beyond Samba, with
Carimbo, Forro, Jongo, Lundu, and even a Capoeira demonstration on the
repertoire. The place is a bit run down
(I hear it’s been around for ages), and the wait staff is pushy in selling pictures
and trinkets around the show. But it you
don’t let that bother you, you’ll have a great time. I would also recommend skipping the pre-show
dinner they offer and instead go just around the corner to Academia da Cachaça
for something more authentic; it was our second stop there in as many days,
watching USA exert revenge on Ghana, and making some new Chilean friends!
(High heels, feathers and all, but that was some freakishly TALL chick!)
On the way back to Ipanema, we got another taste of Carioca
hospitality and humbleness: cab fare was about R$11 and we were 1 real short
(about USD 45 cents). The driver happily
settled with the R$10 bill, without a tip, saying “it’s no problem!” For those of us living in an increasingly
greedy capitalistic society it meant a lot; so much so that my brother in law
gave him a US $5 tip (100%) on top of the fare, which he only accepted after we
strongly insisted! As they say, you
catch more flies with honey, and this was only one of the many experiences that
gave me a great appreciation for the local people: helpful, open-hearted,
honest, and full of life.
The start of day 3 was inspired by the hang gliding clip at
the end of the movie Rio [the
animated feature film about the adventures of a rare blue macaw]. After narrowing down a few reputable
companies, we settled on Beto Rotor (a 20 year voo libre veteran) and his crew.
There are several outfits flying from
Pedra da Gávea (Parque Nacional da Tijuca) but we went with Beto based on his Tripadvisor
feedback and recommendations from Felipe (one of the guys I exchanged tickets
with, who and used to live in Rio).
The brief preparation for something like this could be a
little unsettling – especially for those of us who did this for the first
time. The fact that the instructions (in
limited English) are very brief can add to the level of anxiety. By comparison, a recent white water rafting
trip we took in the US (on level 3 rapids for the most part, so not very
“demanding”) required a good 30 min preparation, watching videos, and signing
all kinds of legal waivers. This
pre-flight experience here included a quick online questionnaire (made up data
if you didn’t have the passport number, for example) and no more than 5 short
instructions: run fast; jump; keep your
feet up; careful at landing; enjoy!
And enjoy we did!
For right after your heart shrinks to the size of a pea and
is about to burst through your chest, right after the “run fast” piece, you’re
FLYING. Gliding, actually, but floating
on air nonetheless, with a ‘wingspan’ of about 10 meters of Brazilian flag
above your head. Before you’re really
fully aware of what’s going on [in retrospect, maybe that’s what the
instructors’ plan was all along] you’re getting a first-hand appreciation of
what a birds’ eye view looks like. It’s
an eerie quiet up there, and you want to shout with excitement, but don’t want
to spoil the tranquility of the birds nearby with your screams. The warm currents from the sea can keep you
up, or carry you along the coast for a long time, but as this is a commercial
enterprise, and others are awaiting their turns at the top, the instructors get
you down on the beach below in 7-8 minutes.
7-8 amazing minutes that is! I
wanted to hug Beto once we landed, to thank him for giving me this
experience. In the end, a high-five was
more appropriate ;-)
The girls opted for the paragliding option [or was it really
opted for them? it was all a bit confusing] and Laura, despite jumping blindly
off the cliff at a 60% angle with a stranger on her back had a similarly joyful
experience; comfortable enough to where she didn't care that her instructor
took a phone call on his cell while up there, in the middle of her flight (around the 5:10 marker in the video)!
 |
| Yup... Waaaaaay down there.... |
 |
| Forced smiles as we're about to jump! |
 |
| Down in one piece! |
 |
| Dry run ;-) |
I realize it is unnatural for humans to “fly” but for one
who’s logged over 1 million flight miles [in motorized contraptions] so far,
this was a very unique experience. Not
as much physical, as it was spiritual and emotional. A bit of a closeness to God, in a sense… (or
as humanly possible as one could get to that, flying in tandem with a complete
stranger ;-) But I can now understand
why Icarus could not resist the temptation to fly close to the sun…
 |
| Had to get this guy in... He was just walking the Garfield look-alike on a leash, then the fat cat lodged itself on the bike, ready to ride. Check out its motorcycle goggles! |
Back in the city, the preparations were well under way for
the much expected Brazil-Mexico clash.
Everything was about to stand still for a few hours. Not exaggerating one bit. One could pitch a tent in the middle of the
highway and would not have to worry about cars!
We had plans to take the cable car up the Sugarloaf Mountain, and
although the game was not until 4, they closed access shortly after noon for a
“private event”. Although I thought they
just wanted to go and watch the game, I learned later that they do indeed offer
exclusive viewing parties at the top of the rock; we just weren't on the invite
list.
The Urca neighborhood right below is one of those visual
examples of the poverty gap. Nice mansions,
chic residences, lush vegetation, in deep contrast to the shantytowns of
cardboard and plastic just on the other side of the gulf. It’s quieter here, less touristy, and is
where the locals like to hang out in the weekends, taking in the downtown views
and sipping a cold beer at Bar Urca. But
it’s a bit offhand, and considering the Rio traffic – really, the ONE
negative aspect of our vacation – I can see why most people prefer to take the
cable car UP the Pão de Açúcar
instead of the streets around it.
After all this running around, Zaza Bistro provided a good
respite and fantastic dinner experience.
As a bit of a foodie, I’d definitely recommend it (would also recommend
booking online in advance, unless you don’t care a long wait). It’s a bit pricey relative to some of the
others mentioned here, but felt like we could ‘splurge’ on dinner one time…
Later in the evening, everyone heads out to Lapa. That’s where all the night action takes
place: bars, live music, dance clubs, prostitution, drugs, the whole spectrum. For the most part, the area around the old
viaduct that used to bring water to the city looks dingy, run down and dirty –
think Tijuana combined with Bourbon Street in NOLA and a bit of Chicago South
Side. But if you ask the locals, there
are several good Samba clubs, excellent live music [Circo Voador] and decent
restaurants. One such place – and a
definite must – is Rio Scenarium: an eclectic, three story tastefully decorated
venue where samba, jazz, and even house music feel equally at home and equally
unfitting. Where the décor has something
of a Mad Hatter [Alice in Wonderland] vibe, and where one of the many bars is
called Jesus’ Pharmacy! Check out the
pics to understand exactly what I’m talking about, for I’m no Hemingway:
 |
| Birds-eye view of the Samba dance floor |
Word is that the location was an antique market at some
point, and it started housing Samba concerts to make some extra money. They would move the furniture/antiques around
to make room for the audience. Now, most
of the antiques have been permanently moved ON the walls!
If you do go to Lapa, the advice is to take a taxi in and
out. As much as it’s relatively safe in
the area where all the bars and clubs line up, the surrounding streets are
still ripe with crime, despite efforts from the local law enforcement to keep
it clean. UPP (Unidade de Polícia
Pacificadora) has made significant strides to clean up some of the crime
elements in the favelas, but it is a David vs. Goliath undertaking, and it may
take more time before the expected results are significant enough across the
entire city. The World Cup brought
droves of additional enforcement in that sense (and more will likely be present
for the Olympics in two years) but poverty will always attract these unwanted
elements. As much as we felt safe
everywhere, chances are that may not be the case after the World Cup.
By day 4, I started to panic a bit: there was still so much
to see, yet so little time left (especially since the afternoon was to be cut
short by the Spain - Chile game. Which
is why we booked a private guide – Olivia Alves – who turned out to be simply
amazing; very knowledgeable, outgoing, passionate about her city, and a fun
person to hang out with. I really wish
we had more time with her, but definitely will next time!
First stop: the Vidigal favela. One where UPP presence is strong and where a
lot of young artists are moving to. It’s
smaller than most of the others (Rocina – much bigger in size – is another that
is relatively safe to visit as long as you go with a guide). Olivia actually lives there (although she can
afford to live anywhere else) because she loves the people, the vibe, and the location. Yes, as much as poverty is rampant in most
favelas, the paradox is that they actually have the best views any Rio real
estate can buy!
 |
| Olivia showing us her back yard! |
There is one narrow road that goes all the way to the top of
Vidigal, but few people here have cars.
Motorcycle taxi is the way to get around. They even waited for us at the top as we were
taking in the breathtaking views. But as
beautiful as this panorama was, the poverty on display on the way up, the lack
of sanitation, and piles of garbage at every corner cannot be ignored. Yet, there was plenty of construction, which
indicates progress. I’m sure this favela
will become prime real estate in a few years; there are already some nice
hostels, the city is tying it up to the electricity grid, and apartment prices
have already doubled in a few short years.
One just has to come to grips with the reality that it’s not all
‘roses’…
From Vidigal, it’s off to Santa Teresa – one of the oldest
neighborhoods in Rio, set on a hilltop, where once the wealthy inhabitants
found refuge from the sweltering heat in the valley below. The road circles the Laguna Rodrigo de
Freitas (it seems no matter where you go you have to pass by, as there aren't
as many main thoroughfares in Rio… something that might become an even bigger
issue during the Olympics)
...then it goes up the mountain through picturesque landscapes, offering breathtaking views of the city below.
Unfortunately, the area is surrounded by
several favelas, and although safe during the day, there have been incidents of
robbery at gunpoint from those who ventured off the beaten path…
 |
| The city below barely visible through the fog and smog... |
 |
| "Bring back Bondinho - the St. Teresa Tram!" |
... some of the old homes in the area...
 |
| Another favela between Santa Teresa and (a barely visible) Downtown |
As much as this was an upper-class neighborhood a while back
(still apparent from the architecture) it is now more of an artists’ hotbed and
a tourist destination. The famous Santa
Teresa tram (similar to the one in San Francisco) has been closed since 2011
due to a tragic accident. There were
plans to reopen it for the World Cup, but politics apparently have impeded
that. Hopefully it will be back before
the Olympics…
On the way down from Santa Teresa towards Lapa, the Escadaria
Selarón is another colorful attraction.
The Chilean-born Selarón – a painter somewhat in the same genre as Dali,
or at least as extravagant – started it in 1990 as a project to repair the
stairs in front of his home. He passed
away in January last year, but his work, counting over 2,000 colorful tiles
from over 60 countries (about 300 painted by the artist himself) across 250
meters in length is now a bright spot in an otherwise gloomy part of town. Initially it was meant to be a tribute to
Brazil (using only green, yellow and blue tiles) but as you can see, it is much
more colorful today, with red a predominant color as well…
The tour with Olivia continued through a gridlocked downtown
to the Metropolitan Cathedral (or the New Cathedral as it’s called
locally). From the exterior, you
wouldn't even know it’s a church, but the imposing conical structure (75 meters
high, with an internal diameter of almost 100 meters) can accommodate 200,000
people standing. It did so – with
thousands spilling in the adjacent streets – when the Pope held mass last year.
 |
| The Lapa aqueduct with the Cathedral in the background |
Fighting traffic, it was off to Maracanã one last time,
hoping that the earlier Dutch cold shower was just a fluke for Span. I felt lucky with ‘my’ tickets on hand [for
this occasion exchanged with James and Felipe] as thousands upon thousands
Chileans were crowding the nearby streets hoping for an extra ticket. As I entered the stadium, with a sea of red
chanting ‘Chi-chi-chi-le-le-le’ I knew that Spain was doomed. Fantastic support, that made the Europeans
feel like they were thrown in a lion pit with nothing but a pocket knife to defend. This was a South American world cup, after
all! Casillas blundered everything that
came to him, and when I saw Busquets miss an absolute sitter from 4 yards in
front of the open goal, I knew it was all over… Much respect for a very
spirited Chilean side, though! As we
headed back to Copacabana, the Chi-chi-chi-le-le-le chants continued across the
city well into the night…
For the last night in Rio, Garrafeiro Informal – a local bar
around the corner from the apartment – offered another unforgettable
opportunity to get to know the locals, down a few more caipirinhas, cold Chopp
Brahmas, understand more about the social and political struggles of this
country, and make new friends. Obrigado!
 |
| A few last caipirinhas with Alex, Jeovana, Karla & Co. |
Next morning, with somewhat of a heavy heart, and ‘foggy head’
it was time to pack up and head south to Buenos Aires [link here]. More adventures awaiting – both around
experiencing the World Cup in South America and visiting new and exciting
places for the first time – but as we were waving good bye to Christ Statue
atop Corcovado, I promised myself that I will make it back to Cidade
Maravilhosa one more time. Now I know
why most places on AirBnB and Flipkey had a 7 day minimum for property rentals;
they were trying to tell me something!
As sure as the sun will rise, I will be back some day... soon!
