LIZ TRAVELS TO SOUTH AMERICA, 2007

River travel...

2008-01-18T09:11:00.000-08:00

Navigating the river São Francisco (Map taken from:http://www.sfrancisco.bio.br/html/mapbacia.htm)

I´ve decided that Brazil shouldn´t just be known for its beaches. It should actually be famous for its rivers... Of course we've all heard about the Amazon - the world´s largest river which Brazil shares with other neighbouring South American countries and which I am yet to visit. But I´ve also discovered recently that with a bit of river navigation in just the small state of Sergipe alone, there are actually many beautiful spots to be encountered close to home. The river São Francisco (also known more affectionately as Velho Chico - Chico being the common nickname for Francisco, and velho meaning ´old´) is the country´s largest river that

belongs to Brazil alone (see map on left). The river begins in the state of Minas Gerais (which is also debatable according to some recent scientific research), running up the country, crossing the state of Bahia and meeting the Atlantic Ocean between the states of Sergipe and Alagoas in the north-eastern region of the country, as well as serving

as a natural boundary between these two states. The river São Francisco is currently the topic of much controversy due to the federal government’s plans of transposição - that is, changing the course of the river in order to provide water for the arid parts of Brazil’s north-east. This idea has actually been around for many years, however a lack of engineering and technical resources meant that nothing ever eventuated. Decades later, the project was revived again,

and since a water crisis in this region in 1999, transposition of the river São Francisco has been seen as the only solution to this problem. The proposed project would see the river being divided into two new courses; one of them taking wate

r up to the states of Pernambuco and Paraíba, and the other serving both these areas as well as states even fur

ther north, like Ceará and Rio Grande do Norte. The river’s transposition would apparently generate thousands more jobs during the constructions, benefit over 12 million people with urban water supply systems, improve the quality of rural water supplies, reduce problems caused by draught

(like food scarcity and rural unemployment), irrigate abandoned areas creating new agricultural opportunities, and reduce the number of diseases due to contaminated water consumption (or lack of water) thus taking pressure off health services. On the other hand, there are also many negative aspects associated with this project, and, in particular, those generating environmental concerns. The river’s ecosystems would suffer from major changes and the creation of new aquatic environments different to the existing ones (in areas where the river did not pass before) would alter water volumes, having a serious impact on the biodiversity and populations of plant and animal species. The introduction of harmful fish species would be another factor, and land animals could lose their habitats due to the possible deforestation of over 400 hectares of vegetated land. Some existing rivers do not even have the capacity to receive such volumes of water, which would result in the flooding of nearby streams. This project could also have serious social consequences - putting pressure on urban infrastructures of the cities receiving the workers and requiring the circulation of workers through indigenous territories. Increased water levels in reservoirs and the use of more canals and tanks could also increase the rate of water-related illnesses, such as dengue fever, malaria and yellow fever. Excavations would put archaeological sites at risk, and a great reduction in the river São Francisco’s generation of electric energy would also result. However, in spite of these potentially negative consequences, it does appear that this project will go ahead, although I have yet to meet somebody who is actually in favour of it…The state of Sergipe (where I am currently living) is lucky enough to claim many of the beautiful spots accessed by this river (as well as its tributaries and other rivers too), and over the last few months I have taken every opportunity on offer to discover these places. The river mouth (or foz in Portuguese) of the river São Francisco and its sandy delta right where the river meets the sea (with sand dunes, a large lake and sporadic coconut trees), create a beautiful destination well worth visiting and I have now been there three times - each visit proving to be an experience entirely different from the last. I first went there back in July, taking a tour from Maceió (a city in the state of Alagoas), and embarking on a river trip from the cute little town of Piaçabuçu (see earlier blog entry entitled Maceió, Alagoas). However, the weather wasn´t exactly spectacular so I was certainly keen to get back there a second time. I then returned to the foz from Sergipe´s side of the river, hopping on a boat in the municipality of Brejo Grande after semi-participating in a community project in a small country town nearby, located right near the river São Francisco (I will update on this community visit later on). On this particular trip it had rained the entire night before and we were therefore very surprised to witness the weather suddenly and miraculously clear up as we swallowed our last mouthfuls of breakfast on the verandah of our riverside accomodation where a group of us had stayed the night, making for a perfect day on the river. We boarded the boat right in front of our accommodation for the night, a lovely little spot where locals continued washing their clothes at the river’s edge in the town of Brejo Grande, as the boat departed. This particular boat trip seemed much more worthwhile than my previous visit to the foz since it revealed much more of the river and other points of interest. It was also much better exploring the delta under a blue sky (unlike my first visit), even if it did leave the sand dunes piping hot...The boat trip also lasted a lot longer – stopping at various secret spots on both the way there and back, such as shallow sandy parts of the river which formed peaceful and miniature beaches, making for regular and relaxing fresh-water dips. One slice of the region’s history that was drawn to our attention was represented by a cute little lighthouse sitting in the water and leaning on an incredible angle, only just visible from the delta’s sand dunes on the other side of the river. The last town in the state of Sergipe before the river meets the sea is called Cabeço. This lighthouse used to sit in the middle of Cabeço’s town square. It now sits 400 metres out into the sea, as the town was partially washed away…My third and final trip to the foz was different yet again. A reasonably sized group of us left Aracaju in convoy and headed for Pirambu, a smallish city with a lot of character, and unique in that it faces both the river on one side (a branch of the river Serjipe, the river that passes by Aracaju), and the ocean on the other. Once there, the cars were driven onto the sand and we continued a great part of the journey along the beach itself before driving back up into reality and joining the dirt roads of Brejo Grande, passing through the small town of Saramém and continuing to the river’s edge where we then piled onto a long, local, motorized boat that fitted all of us as well as the coal barbeque. The boat trip was very long which certainly meant getting a real feel for the river as we headed down one of São Francisco’s tributaries. We made a brief first stop at a sort of island - a large area covered in thick vegetation (mangroves and coconut trees), and owned by the family of our friends hosting this trip. After the guys had tired from leaping into the water from the trunk of a leaning coconut palm, we then continued on our way. The next stop was on the other side of this island, a bit like a small delta - a beautiful and quiet little bay belonging to the river, with the ocean on the other side. After a barbeque lunch (still on the boat although anchored in the bay), we then waded through the water onto the sand – some heading for the ocean with surfboards, others relaxing on the sheltered riverside, or wandering about. After spending the afternoon there, we then headed back along the river and joined up with the main part of the river São Francisco, this time in the direction of the foz. There we anchored at a different spot from where I had been previously - right at the foot of a large sand dune. We couldn’t have arrived there at a better time; we were the only ones there, the dunes were left golden from the lowering sun, and it wasn’t too hot. The rugby and soccer balls were soon pulled out, although mucking around on top of a sand dune wasn´t perhaps the best idea – the balls were frequently lost over the edge and whoever was guilty was sent smartly back down to retrieve them, having to leg it straight back up again. There we also witnessed something quite remarkable – the sun setting over in Sergipe’s direction while a large round moon was already visible high in the sky behind us. Finally we all clambered reluctantly back onto the boat after a beautiful evening, arriving back to the cars in Saramém in the dark... Mangue Seco is another beautiful spot worth visiting, also accessed by the river, although not the São Francisco this time. Mangue Seco is a fishing village located at the extreme north of the coast of the state of Bahia (bordering Sergipe), where the rivers Real, Piauí, Fundo, Guararemu, Priapu and Sagüi meet the Atlantic Ocean. Once there, it feels a bit like you are on an island, although that isn´t quite the case. Although easier accessed by boat, you can also drive there (in a four wheel drive or sand buggy) at low tide from the Costa Azul. Being a slightly more difficult destination to reach has an advantage though - making it a tranquil and relatively peaceful place to visit. With 30km of semi-deserted beaches, Mangue Seco is also especially famous for its white sand dunes which cover a large part of the area between the ocean and the river Real, and which also became the setting for a famous Brazilian soap opera (Tieta) in 1989. Mangue Seco´s fauna is very diverse, with migrating birds, sea turtles, and the river Fundo is apparently one of the last refuges of the peixe-boi (sea cow - a bit like a small whale that lives in fresh water). My first visit there was with a group of very lively university students who had organized this trip as part of their studies in tourism. (I was invited to tag along by the lecturer, André’s sister-in-law). It turned out to be a very amusing day. The bus left Aracaju and headed for Estância, a town further inland about an hour away. We then boarded a boat and began our tour. This trip was great value for money. We spent the whole day on the river and were constantly offered fresh tropical fruits and local seafood delights, followed by a buffet lunch which was also served on the boat. We stopped occasionally for a swim in the river and then eventually anchored up at Mangue Seco where we spent the rest of the afternoon before venturing back along the river. My second trip to Mangue Seco was on my birthday, and was different again. Instead of driving along the main highway to Estância, two carloads of us headed in a different direction and hopped on a ferry (cars and all), travelling there via Abaís. There we stopped at a small bar on the edge of a river/fishfarm, where large black fish (tambaquí, a species from the Amazon) are reared. You could purchase food rations from the the bar and feed them, luring the fish closer and allowing you to touch them and swim amongst them. They were a little bit on the timid side but came close enough for a stroke providing you were quick – the tambaquí really is a fascinating animal. We then continued on our way, parking the cars at a riverside restaurant where little launches offer rides to Mangue Seco, although I cannot remember the name of this place. There we managed to bargain the price down a little bit and we piled into two small motorboats, heading for Mangue Seco. On the way we stopped at a beautiful place called Ilha da Sogra (ilha means ´island´, and sogra means ´mother-in-law,´ although I am not entirely sure why they chose this name). There was no shade to be found but it was such a beautiful and peaceful sandy spot to explore before heading on. Once at Mangue Seco, a few of us took a buggy ride up onto the dunes and then back along the beach where we met up with the rest of the crowd. We spent the rest of the afternoon on the beach and lazing in hammocks provided by a casual beach bar, and also witnessed a tiny little turtle being released as it attempted its first journey out to sea. We then ventured back to the boats and returned to where our cars were parked before heading back to Aracaju to watch the orchestra’s last concert of the year, which we nearly didn’t make it to having missed the intended ferry crossing and having to wait, although it all worked out in the end since things here never commence on time anyway… Another great river spot, and a bit closer to home this time, is Croa do Goré, only a quick and inexpensive boat ride away from Aracaju. The boat leaves you there on a small sandy island (which only becomes visible, and therefore also visitable when the tide is out) in the middle of the river Vaza-Barris, where there is just one casual restaurant selling food and drinks. A large group of us ventured there one day and it made for a very pleasant afternoon. The river is shallow enough for frollocking about, or even placing your chair in it, since cooling off in the water is a welcome treat given the lack of shade in this area. Every so often a boat would arrive with the occasional visitor, or the odd kayak would pass by. This spot is obviously only accessible by boat, but well worth a visit...

Life in Aracaju...

2007-12-13T15:14:00.000-08:00

The blog is back. Actually I have always been around, I just haven´t been on the move as much recently and have therefore lost that constant travel and writing rythm that I had somehow managed to maintain before. That combined with being busy, and a little bit of procrastination...Actually, having been in the same place for the last four or so months is probably my main excuse for temporarily abondoning the travel blog, since I haven´t come across as many interesting things to report on with the same frequency - not that these last few months haven´t been interesting. I have been living in Aracaju, a city in the north-east of Brazil where I spent a fantastic month back in June/July (refer to earlier blog entry entitled Aracaju). Aracaju is the capital of Brazil´s smallest state, Sergipe, and is where I plan to live for a while. Having auditioned for a violinist spot in the Sergipe Symphony Orchestra back in July, I then continued with my travels and headed North (not expecting much of the orchestra job since I hadn´t actually planned on staying in Brazil in the first place, but thought I would give it a try anyway). I spent a week or so further north in the state of Alagoas (see very last blog entry) where I saw some beautiful things despite the mostly rainy weather, and where I met some interesting people. I then received an email from Aracaju where I was called back to for the orchestra job, and which brings me up until the present day. I have been fighting Brazilian beaurocracy every since. I never thought that stitching up a work visa could be this difficult. Actually, to be honest, and despite my intentions of settling somewhere in South America to live and work for a while, I had never imagined that Brazil would be the place. I knew of no international work agreements between Brazil and New Zealand (unlike with Chile, Argentina, Uruguay and Mexico, although I think that is currently changing), and had simply assumed that it would be just as impossible to find a job in this country as it would be to obtain a work visa. But alas, there was actually quite a straight-forward solution - well, so I thought. One of your options as a foreigner, is to apply for a two-year work visa providing you have been offered a work contract by a Brazilian employer. Apparently this can later be extended for another two years, if so desired. So it all sounds quite manageable, so far. You apply for this work visa together with your potential employer, and once your application is in the hands of Immigration (who then communicate with the Foreign Affairs department, something like that) it is meant to take up to three months to process, allowing you to then enter the country and work. Well given that I am already in the country, that means I have to leave the country and re-enter just to get the work visa in my passport... Ridiculous, I know, but any normal person would still be in their country of origin whilst applying for the visa - it was just me that had to do things backwards. Given that Brazil is such a huge country, there will be no quick and inexpensive way of just "hopping over the border" to get the visa. The closest Brazilian consulate outside of the country is in Argentina (or Paraguay), so that will involve an expensive flight or two. I use the future tense here because I am still yet to be given the go-ahead to even deal with this step - I am still waiting on my work visa application to be approved. My situation became complicated when the "employer" entered the picture. The orchestra belongs to the state of Sergipe, so it became the State Secretary of Culture´s responsibility to make their contribution to my application. Let´s just say it´s been a very frustrating few months. The NZ embassy in Brasilia, Brazil´s capital city, was hardly helplful, giving me incorrect information and then simply referring me on to someone else (a website). Numerous documents had to be arranged and I became completely exasperated with the incompetency and complete lack of urgency of most of the people involved. For example, the first lady (a lawyer) dealing with my documents at the Secretary of Culture went on prolonged sick leave after having plastic surgery, without even bothering to inform me. Once I had retrieved my documents from her, my precious bits of paper then entered the never-ending cycle of being handed from one person to another, each assuring me that things would be taken care of... Well I soon learnt not to relax whenever I was told this. Each time I would entrust my documents in these capable hands, I would return to the Secretary a week later, only to be told that (due to a read-between-the-lines combination of incompetency and sheer laziness), that particular person was not actually the right person to deal with those documents, and that it would be better to talk to such and such a person. And so the weeks passed by. I guess I can´t really be too critical - Sergipe is a small state and doesn´t receive many foreigners, and people are therefore unfamiliar with the process. But it was getting very frustrating and discouraging (especially given that time was precious) - racing to the Secretary after orchestra rehearsals on a regular basis (and usually having to pay for a taxi due to unbearable midday heat and time constraints since most state employees tend to only work until 1pm), only to be informed that no progress had been made. FINALLY a younger lawyer there took over and was the first person to actually make a difference to my situation, completing the process for me quite efficiently (if only she had been called upon several months ago!) and anything she was unsure of she would simply find out how to do. Pronto. Finally the ball was rolling, but Brazil is like that apparently - you cannot entrust your business with anybody and expect it to get done. You need to constantly chase people up (in person) and apply pressure to actually see results, and ideally you need an influential contact to receive special treatment, ie. to rescue your documents from the bottom of the pile. In Portuguese they say Quem indica. It´s not what you know, it´s who you know. I am told that this is more than relevant to Brazil in many situations - especially when finding a job, meaning that many well-qualified and deserving people often miss out on opportunities simply because María (looking for a job) is Rogério´s sister-in-law (the company owner) - that sort of thing. This exists all over the world of course, but it is particularly relevant here in Brazil. As for my side of the work visa application, study and professional work experience (as a musician, in my case) had to be proven. Certificates and work reference letters needed to be authenticated at the appropriate Brazilian Embassies (England in the case of my violin exam certificates, and New Zealand for my reference letters) and then officially translated in Brazil before even been considered by Immigration. This was the most annoying, time-consuming, and beaurocratic part - anxiously awaiting the arrival of my ORIGINAL certificates as they did figure-of-eights around the world with expensive courier companies that appear to be no faster than normal postage, and having to ask many favours not being there myself to initiate all this. Well I am still waiting on my work visa to come through and to then be given the go-ahead to leave the country (only to come straight back in again). Then finally my name will have to be publicized (as it is a state job) which can take at least a month before being able to officially start to earn money. So it´s a never-ending battle and there have been times where I have felt like giving up, but I am confident that things will work out eventually. It almost puts you off living and working in another country altogether, although if I ever attempt it again I´ll certainly feel more psychologically prepared... Beaurocracy. I now most definitely know what that means, and it reflects itself in other ways too. There just seems to be a long process for everything here; you must always expect to wait in a long queue; at the bank, the doctor, or wherever else. Sometimes you even wait for a lifetime in a queue, only to be told that you are waiting in the wrong queue, or just to pick up a form to then fill in and join a different queue. So although the idea must surely be to make these procedures more efficient, it doesn´t always work out that way, and to top it all off, they usually provide a television screen in these places showing novelas (those horrible soap operas I have talked about before), leaving you forced to watch them. So anyway, here I am, in Aracaju, and André (who introduced me to this city in the first place, back in June) has since returned here from New Zealand to be with me. Actually, if it weren´t also for the help of André´s eldest sister Anáber (my surrogate mother, life savior and friend), I probably wouldn´t still be here today. Most people (locals) wonder what on earth I am doing here. One person even asked if my plane had crashed somewhere nearby... People´s reactions as to what exactly brings me to Aracaju of all places, are about as interesting as their knowledge of my country. New Zealand is regularly confused with Holland, and was even mistaken for an island off the coast of Bahia, north-east Brazil, by one waiter in a restaurant... I am used to it now. Many Brazilians from my generation know of NZ mostly from an old children´s TV programme that was hosted by a puppet dog called Jaca Paladium, who would tell strange stories and claim that all of them happened in Nova Zelândia. People also express their concern that NZ must be cold all year round, and are even more fearful that the country will disappear with the next natural disaster (tsunami being the one causing most concern). NZ is usually and understandably associated with adventure sports, and short bungee-jumping snippets will often appear on late-night television, although nobody seems to know about the sport rugby, let alone recognize even just the name of it, even if you try and pronounce it with a Brazilian accent (hugby) - hence my complete feeling of alienation from last year´s rugby world cup. Usually rugby is what foreigners first associate with NZ, but I suppose soccer is just far too important here for any Brazilian to even be interested. If you liken it to American football they usually start to understand, although linking your country to the United States probably isn´t such a good idea either here in South America since it doesn´t have the most popular of reputations, like in most other countries of the world. Everybody is left astounded at NZ´s miniscule population size, assuming that everyone lives in Auckland - leaving the rest of the country for Lord of the Rings film scenery... I must say I do feel quite proud of my beautiful country when I see images of it screening on Sony television screens in the shopping centre´s electronic stores. I stand there mesmerized every time, and with a twinge of home-sickness, wondering how on earth they thought of NZ here in little Aracaju when choosing images to promote their television sales. You also come across NZ music from time to time, at some of the beaches´ surf bars. I have rented an apartment which is just walking distance from the relatively new theatre (my work-place - where the orchestra rehearses and often performs). Small, affordable apartments are well sought after in this area (not that it´s even close to any beach, park or tree-lined avenue), so I consider myself quite lucky to have found this one. Or perhaps nobody else wanted to share a flat with a family of cockroaches and a transparent lizard, who, although helpful at getting rid of the cockroaches by swallowing them, couldn´t quite keep up with the birth rate. I have since bought some poison which has dealt with the situation completely. I am now counting down the days until the completion of major roadworks nearby (they are building what is probably best described as a viaduct or mini spaghetti junction), since traffic has been more than temporarily diverted right past my bedroom window, making for a dusty combination of constant traffic noise (even at night), the traffic warden´s whistle, and mouthfuls of heated Latino abuse after the common nose-to-tail car accident. The constructions have taken longer than expected, which doesn´t surprise me at all. One of this country´s most common examples of corruption in politics reflects itself when you see dirt roads around the city waiting to have concrete layed, or roads that do actually have ashphalt, but very poorly done. You can be sure that in these cases, politicians have obtained the money required to fix things up, yet have kept it for themselves (or used only a portion of it to do a shoddy job and kept the rest). No progress can then be made until the next politicians are elected, since the money can only be obtained for these projects once. This is a common reality here in Brazil, and actually one of the less serious ones. But as I wait for these particular constructions near my home to be finished (whilst also hoping not to develop lung cancer from the constant blanket of fumes that come my way), I take comfort in the fact that at least this one project will be completed since the recent progress can be noted daily. And I still like my apartment despite all this - it is handy to so many things. My monthly rent is the same price as you would pay weekly in NZ, and it is well located. I´ve bought a bicycle which has made life a lot easier. Nothing fancy - just the cheapest one available at the nearby hypermarket (which also happens to be the official bicycle of the Sergipe Symphony Orchestra for that particular reason). Not that Aracaju is the safest city for cycling, although it is a very common form of transport here, and given that it was a planned city, there are virtually no hills. There are several well organized cycle lanes in certain areas, but other than that you have to bravely throw yourself out onto the road and join the impatient drivers - and nobody wears helmets here. I have already had two accidents and now everybody thinks I don´t know how to ride a bicycle. But despite this clumsy and uncoordinated reputation that I seem to have acquired, I am still pleased with my two-wheeled purchase - life changed completely the day I bought my bicycle, as Aracaju is much better enjoyed when you have your own form of transport. Motorcycles are also another common form of transport here in Aracaju, although I think I´ll steer clear of them for a while too after learning to ride one recently and having a slight accident. The bike was so heavy that I toppled over when trying to park it and badly burnt my leg, adding to my already colourful legful of scars and varicose veins. André and I have made tentative plans to eventually travel around South America by motorbike. I certainly won´t be driving, although it is handy to know how, in the event of any potential emergency that could occur at some point in these intended Motorcycle Diaries. My flat is also close to a swimming/gym complex, so I have signed up for swimming. The monthly membership fee is ridiculously cheap and the pool is so close to home that I just couldn´t resist, although the complex´s timetable restrictions limit you to swimming under the midday sun. It is now summer here and the heat is quite something. It is also becoming more humid here with the arrival of summer, noticed more when leaving an air-conditioned building, although certain parts of Aracaju are also graced by a sea breeze now and then, while others are not. The sun starts beating down at 5.30 in the morning, so there´s no getting up early to avoid it. Walking to work around 8 o´clock in the morning leaves me sweating, although being greeted by air conditioning on arrival usually solves the problem. I now understand this local obsession of showering constantly, and also the reason for most houses having only cold water. For any physical activity outside, it is best to wait until after 4pm if you want to avoid the sun, and I´ve even taken to walking around during the day with my bright red umbrella sometimes - I don´t care if I look stupid, it is just simply too hot to spend long in the sun. This is one of the reasons for changing my eating patterns too. North-easterners (contrary to further down the country), eat a large cooked lunch and then have something lighter for dinner, with coffee, like a toasted sandwich or cuscuz (an interestingly modified version of couscous). They call this tomar café. And occasionally, for something a little more filling, they´ll eat some fried carne-de-sol (salted beef that has been left in the sun for several days) or lingüiça (a bit like sausage) with macaxeira (a tasty root vegetable that expands and becomes slightly gooey (but in a good way) when boiled in water with salt). So I too have inverted my meals. It does afterall make a lot of sense to have a larger meal at lunch, taking the opportunity to stay inside and perhaps have a rest to escape the midday sun before getting back to work or wherever else, and then eat something lighter later on. Given that Aracaju isn´t too large a city, many people return home to have lunch, and breaks of two hours are commonly given by employers. Certain shops and services also close for a couple of hours so there is no point in having a rushed lunch and then racing straight back onto the street to sort your life out. So apart from the work visa waiting game, I am feeling well settled here in Aracaju - for now I can quite happily call it home, although there are still a number of little things that I miss about New Zealand. I would just love to plonk myself down on the grass in a large, green, peaceful park for example, under the shade of a huge tree with its leaves rustling in a cool breeze... Lounging around in parks doesn´t really seem to be all that common here, let alone sitting straight on the grass. It´s a bit like going to the beach here - back in NZ I was used to plonking myself down on a towel. Here people seem to be glued to the deckchairs of whichever establishment´s services they are using. Some locals have denied this observation of mine, but this is what I have noticed here, at least on Aracaju´s beaches. Getting overly dressed up just to leave the house is another thing, and I take it from the funny looks I receive and the occasional comments from people I know better, that if I don´t make more of an effort I will probably always be looked upon as a scruffy backpacker... High heels are used even if they impede one´s ability to walk, and if your toe nail polish is flaking off and needs re-doing, somebody will certainly let you know. But nevertheless, I feel so glad to have retained my kiwi simplicity. NZ wine is another thing I miss. While some of this country´s southern regions are better known for wine production and while more expensive varieties are apparently paleatable, the majority of Brazil´s standard wines are simply undrinkable. They are incredibly sweet and taste like grape juice, the whites as much as the reds (although I now feel as if I am insulting grape juice). Luckily for me, André was kind enough to overload his suitcase with a very generous selection of leading NZ wines which we are slowly savouring and introducing to local friends. There are times when I also crave for NZ dairy products. A decent cheese here is very expensive and the affordable ones just somehow don´t compare to even NZ´s more basic ones. It isn´t worth buying fresh milk if you are living alone since it doesn´t stay fresh for long. You have to constantly boil it to make it last for more than a day or two. People therefore often resort to using powdered milk at home, which, although is fine for making a vitamina (blended fruit smoothie), I personally cannot cope with the idea of it turning to sludge at the bottom of my cup of coffee. Sometimes it is just easier to give the milk a miss. But I am not complaining, for on the other hand there are plenty of things available here that I love and will surely miss when I leave. Tropical fruits continue to be one of the things I love most about north-eastern Brazil. You can afford to get really carried away in the supermarket´s fruit and vegie section without having to worry about your budget, and the open markets are even better since they have a larger variety of some of the more curious fruits. And if you have friends with fruit trees in their gardens you are in luck, getting sent home with regular bagfuls of mangoes (of which there are still several different varieties), and other fruits too. One of my current favourites would have to be umbu, a smallish, round, green fruit with a transparent flesh inside. The umbu is sour but tasty, and makes a very refreshing juice. Graviola is another great one for blending up a nice drink - a much larger green fruit with knobs all over it, and with a creamy white flesh inside that you annoyingly have to peel from the large black seeds surrounded by it. Jaca is another fruit which I tried for the first time recently. It looks a bit like a rugby ball, only much bigger, and is covered in green/brown spikes with delicious segments of yellow flesh inside, again enclosing seeds which make it annoying to eat, but worth it in the end. A range of juices are always on offer in bars, restaurants and barracas, and you can also make any type of juice you want at home if you have a blender, using either frozen pulp which you can buy cheaply at the supermarket, or using fresh fruit itself which is of course even better. You can also sip on a chilled coconut water for just 50¢ (which is even less in NZ cents) wherever coconuts are sold on the city centre´s streets. Ask the vendor to cut the coconut open when you´ve finished drinking it and you can use a chunk of the shell to scoop out the coconut´s meat. Prices increase once you get near the beach though. Lastly, I think my vote for Aracaju´s new culinary contender would have to be caldinho de sururu, a portion of seafood soup (sururu being a type of oyster typical of this region) that you can order very cheaply at any beachside establishment and enjoy with a squirt of lime. As for Aracaju´s climate, well it really is too hot here but I still wouldn´t ever trade it back for NZ´s damp winter, and by avoiding the sun when it´s at its hottest you learn to cope with it. Seasons don´t really exist here. It just rains more during the period I guess you could call winter (and hardly ever during the rest of the year, which is great), with slightly cooler temperatures (although still comfortable - a bit like summer in NZ), and the rest of the time it is just hot. The sun sets early the whole year round, with very little variation. This I also miss about NZ - being able to make the most of daylight until much later at night... As for the orchestra, well I´ve really enjoyed being part of it over the last few months. The Sergipe Symphony Orchestra really is quite a special one. Unlike most professional orchestras, the players are mostly all very young. It does however have musical potential (although it is still growing and there is also a lot of room for improvement ) with some talented longer-standing members staying put, and some recent new arrivals. Most of the concerts are held in the theatre where we rehearse, although others have taken place in the city´s cathedral, in parks, and occasionally out of town. I think a favourite for most of us was a concert we did with Wagner Tiso, a Brazilian composer who joined us on the piano for an entire programme of his own compositions and arrangements (see photo of Wagner and I below). Socially, it has been fantastic. I now have a large and eclectic bunch of workmates who have almost become a bit like family. These musicians come from all over Brazil, so it has been great meeting people from all corners of this diverse country. Regular barbeques after late Sunday morning concerts take place at the "club", which is a group of houses where a number of the musicians live, complete with swimming pool, coconut trees and the occasional visit from a small monkey. Other social opportunities are always on offer (after concerts or otherwise), and never without a good laugh (or heated discussion). Our table is always by far the noisiest, leaving an impression wherever we go and never without some of the rowdier members embarassing even strangers passing by. Internal politics, although a common thing within all orchestras, have made the last few months very interesting too. I won´t go into detail, although troubles between musicians and the conductor/management have escalated recently, making for a very tense atmosphere in the workplace - involving repeated verbal protests during public performances, musicians losing their jobs, and more. There was a time where the orchestra would constantly feature on the news or appear in the newspaper, and I would see myself on the television nearly every night. For a while there, I think the concerts were attracting an audience mostly because of these dramas but the orchestra has now completed its programme for 2007 and is on holiday until mid-Februrary, so any tension has died down - at least for the time being. This also means that most of my collegues have returned to their respective ends of the country until February... Just to change the subject completely, there is also a zoo in Aracaju, something I was very surprised to hear about given that it isn´t a particularly large city. Given its small size it is more of a park than a zoo, and it is also free to enter, being the ideal place for a peaceful afternoon stroll. The enclosures are a bit on the small side (although they have been greatly improved according to locals), leaving the lion with psychological problems and pacing back and forth with not much else to do. Unfortunately the bear died recently of intestinal problems, although it was torture to put him there anyway given the hot climate, and I was quite pleased to see my first puma, having hoping (or perhaps not) to come across one back down in Patagonia. Highlights of this zoological park were probably the arara-azul, a beautiful and rare blue Brazilian parrot who I´m sure would have pecked my nose off had its attempts at biting its way through the wire been successful, another colouful parrot-looking species, and the cheeky monkeys that greet you with acrobatics as you enter the park on their little foresty island in the middle of a lake. Another part of Aracaju that I have discovered recently which is at least new for me and worth mentioning, is Atalaia Nova. For those who are familiar with my home city Auckland, visiting this spot is a bit like crossing the harbour bridge and visiting the North Shore and its surrounding suburbs. Here, it is the river Serjipe that separates Aracaju from this spot that I am talking about, and you can look back on the city from various points at Atalaia Nova (Aracaju´s illuminated Christmas tree looked particularly spectacular from there with the city as a backdrop and with its lights reflecting on the river. Aracaju claims it to be the second biggest in the world!). There used to be a ferry that took people and their cars across, however there is now a new and impressive bridge which makes access much easier. Having local friends with holiday houses there creates a perfect excuse to visit Atalaia Nova. I am really keen on the beach there, where low sand dunes level out onto a vast, flat and deserted stretch of beach - far from any restaurant and often with just one lady selling chilled beverages under her tent. It is the perfect place to muck around with a rugby ball, even if it only attracts strange looks from the very few locals that pass by. If you are in search of something a little less remote, a contrasting part of Atalaia Nova is at the river´s edge (before the river meets the sea) rather than the ocean beach I was just referring to. The river area (which has been sort of turned into a beach, with waves) is busier, and there are numerous bars to be found there where you can sit under the welcome shade of an umbrella and enjoy refreshments, or nibble on steamed crabs with friends. I saw the new year in for 2008 at Atalaia Nova with André and friends, which was great. The last few weeks have been very busy socially - catching up with local friends here who now live in NZ but who are back in Aracaju visiting their families, enjoying the beach, and taking every opportunity to tag along on any brief excursions out of the city. The state of Sergipe, although small, has many beautiful places to visit and so amidst the country´s festivities for Christmas, New Years and with the build-up to Carnaval (and while I wait on my work visa to come through), we have been making the most of these opportunites... Further updates to follow!

Alagoas...

2007-08-08T06:58:00.000-07:00

Maceió & Maragogi, ALAGOAS

I´ve been making my way up the coast of Alagoas, one of Brazil´s states that I really knew very little about before actually approaching it and hearing Brazilians rave about it... This stretch of coast is particularly famous for its beautiful beaches, coral reefs, leaning coconut palms, crystal clear waters, natural swimming pools that form at low tide, and most importantly, its phenomenal turquoise waters. Unfortunately for me, I picked the wrong time of year to visit this region. Winter´s inevitable frequent rain and a particularly bad patch in the weather meant that the sand was churned up by the waves, leaving these normally spectacular waters darker and much less idyllic than I know they usually are. However, I did still manage to see many beautiful things during my week or so in Alagoas, and on the odd occasion where the weather did clear up for a brief moment, I was able to see the amazing potential that these beaches have. I would still definitely recommend this area as worth visiting (just not during Brazil´s winter months) and I certainly plan on returning there myself. From Aracaju I first caught a bus to Maceió, the capital city of the state of Alagoas. There I stayed in the only youth hostel I could find (most of the accomodation there includes pousadas which are reasonably priced although expensive for a backpacker, and upmarket beachside hotels). My hostel was located in the very affluent neighbourhood of Ponta Verde. It was only a short walk from the beach, very close to a decent, large supermarket (I love supermarkets in foreign countries), and a really safe area for wandering around even at night. During my four days in Maceió I met an interesting mix of people. Most were Brazilian (as most of the tourists there are), including the two funny ladies from Rio de Janeiro I shared my room with - one of them was a right royal character who had travelled north just to go fishing. I also met some great Europeans, although one of them was an unfortunate Italian from Milan who complained about absolutely everything and who just wasn´t enjoying Brazil at all. During his very short tour of Brazil he had chosen to visit destinations at only the most extreme ends of the country, which meant spending more time in airplanes than anything else and backtracking in all directions. He insisted that the Italian language didn´t ressemble Portuguese in any way whatsoever (I disagree), and was completely unimpressed that nobody could speak English to him. I didn´t like his attitude at all, and it makes me really wonder why some people actually bother travelling sometimes!! Anyway. I just had to get that off my chest. The beaches in the city of Maceió itself aren´t necessarily the most beautiful in the area (although it´s always nice to have the ocean handy) - it pays to get out of the city a bit and explore the coast in both directions. Given that it was raining every single day that I spent in Maceió, I decided to make the most of the numerous passeios (excursions/tours) on offer to different beaches out of the city. I usually steer very clear of any sort of tour as they are usually too expensive and I find that the quality doesn ´t usually meet the price you pay, and you also lose your freedom to stay as little or as long as you like in a place. These passeios however, were actually very economical, with the van picking you up at your door and with friendly guides who actually knew what they were talking about. On my first day I took a gamble despite the horrible weather in Maceió and set off early on a tour to the Delta do São Francisco. This was really worthwhile. Being nearly a two hour drive away from the Maceió, we were fortunate enough to leave the rain behind us. The scenery along the way was beautiful - endless sugar cane plantations creating a distant landscape of green rolling hills. We arrived in the tiny little city of Piaçabuçu (which is really just a friendly little fishing village) alongside the river São Francisco, and from there we took a boat down the river arriving at the delta and river mouth after about 20 minutes. A group of locals also headed there in their little boats - filled with supplies, beating us there and setting themselves up ready to sell things as we got off the boat (food, drinks, crafts etc) before we wandered up onto the sand. I´m told there are a number of similar yet larger and even more incredible places further north in Brazil, but this delta really was quite surreal, and given the horrible weather back in Maceió we were actually incredibly lucky to not encounter even a spot of rain. The delta was fascinating - a bit like a mini desert, with the sea on one side, the river on the other, lots of sand, a lake, and a few coconut palms. We spent the perfect length of time there - not all that long although definitely long enough given the heat. As we left, so did all the locals - a day´s work complete. Once back in Piaçabuçu, we ate lunch in a causal river-side restaurant. A wander around the streets would have been nice, although it started pouring with rain just as we had finished eating so that was a pity and it was then back to rainy Maceió. The next passeio I went on was one that combined visits to three different beaches south of Maceió, and only a short distance away. Like the day before, it was raining, however I went regardless and I am glad I did. The first two stops (at the beaches Praia do Francês and Barra de São Miguel) were only brief visits to get a feel for them and take a few photos, and we then spent the remainder of the day at Praia do Gunga. Access to this last beach was through a huge and privately owned coconut plantation. The weather almost packed in completely as we arrived, but then the sun miracrously appeared for some reason and it turned out to be a hot sunny afternoon at the beach, although my fellow carioca fisherwoman friend (who knows the beach well) was most disappointed that the rest of us didn´t get to see the sand at its whitest and the water´s gorgeous colour and transparency at its best... On the beach I got chatting to a great Brazilian family from Belém, which is a city up north near the mouth of the Amazon. I spent most of the afternoon chatting to this very friendly bunch, and they are keen to orientate me in their city when I get up there eventually. Unfortunately, I left Maceió without a visit to the natural pools just 2km off the beach of Pajuçara. Locals take you there in jangadas (small raft-like boat constructions) although the weather was never good enough to make the most of this and I didn´t want to hang around waiting for it to clear up (which just wasn´t going to happen) when I could be visiting natural pools elsewhere in the region (which are apparently better anyway). So I then headed a couple of hours north to Maragogi, a small fishing village that was recommended to me. I love arriving in places of this size - where you only need to walk a short distance after getting off the bus before stumbling over a place to stay. There I found a room in a pousada, paying a little more than I had intended yet which was actually very reasonably priced for what it included. Maragogi, despite being a popular attraction especially amongst Brazilians, didn´t feel touristic at all, and I almost felt like I had slipped in unnoticed. I went wandering in the evening and came across a friendly Argentinean artisan and her Brazilian husband (and dog - who promptly snuggled up to my legs and who also promptly relieved himself of his fleas!). This couple were travelling around Brazil, making jewellery, and living off their sales. We ended up chatting for ages and then ate dinner together. The next day I hopped on a boat and headed out to the Galés, the famous natural pools of Maragogi. It was a guy called Wellington who booked this trip for me. I was very impressed that he already knew he shared his name with the capital city of New Zealand, especially given that most people I have met lately have confused New Zealand with Holland, Germany, or just Europe in general... The Galés are located about 6km off the shores of Maragogi, and are the natural pools that everybody talks about as being the best in the area. Unfortunately, the weather wasn´t the best for this outing, but it had to be done and at least the rain held off. While the water out near the reef was much more turquoise than the water back at shore, it was still very windy, so visibility under the water amongst the corals wasn´t as clear as it would have been on a calm, sunny day. However I still managed to go snorkelling which was great (my first ever coral reef experience) and saw plenty of interesting fish species, most of which were actually very friendly and unperturbed by this human invasion. As the boat prepared to return, the weather turned very cold and windy, but despite this it was still a worthwhile trip. It must be pretty spectacular when the weather is right. Later that evening I went to sample some tasty tapioca prepared by a lovely old Bolivian man. I ended up sitting there for several hours - chatting to various regulars as they came and went, and slowly reviving my espanhol. It was there that I met Andrea, Cassiano and their baby - a lovely couple from Recife who ended up inviting me to their beach house the next day - past Barra Grande and only a few kilometres away from Maragogi. I had actually planned on heading north the next day but changed my mind and took up this kind offer instead. So the next morning I hopped into an old kombi van leaving from the square where young guys were screeching out various destinations (this seems to be the official form of transport in and out of Maragogi). As we drove off, a youngster hung out the door and continued to call out in all directions, and a couple more locals soon joined us - one holding a very well-behaved (live) chicken, and the other a crowing rooster. I was then let off at the gate of the beach house and only had to pay one real for this colorful service. Andrea and Cassiano were suprised I had actually showed up given the weather, but I am certainly glad I did. This property has a great location - less than a two hour drive from Recife (where this family live) and whose backyard happens to be a beautiful beach. The property is covered in coconut palms as it was originally a coconut fazenda. They showed me some photos of what the water usually looks like, and I was left completely dumbfounded. The colour of that water was something out of this world, yet like I said, I´ve picked the wrong time of year to see it! Due to the rain and wind, the beach didn´t ressemble those photos at all, however I still spent a very enjoyable day there and a couple of brief windows in the weather changed the water´s colour slightly, offering a sneak preview of this beach´s paradisal potential. Andrea and I sailed out to the reef on their small catamaran, and there I went for a snorkel. The wind left the water a bit rough but it was still worth a go. I almost swam right into a huge, dark, unidentifiable creature which gave me such a fright I ended up swallowing several gulps of water as I quickly retreated to where I had come from. I have been known to invent such ocean sightings in the past but I´m pretty sure I didn´t imagine this one!! Whilst frollicking amongst the corals I was also joined for quite some time by a tiny yellow fish who was just so gorgeous and full of personality - who keep peering at me through my mask and who hung about at my side, keeping up with me for a good while. It was such a gorgeous little moment... I then spent the rest of the afternoon in a hammock, eating lunch, drinking Argentinean wine and chatting with Andrea and Cassiano about cultural differences (this always leaves plenty to talk about), before getting a ride back to Maragogi. I am definitely keen to return to this little patch of paradise and visit my new friends, and actually to return to Alagoas in general at a better time of year and explore the area more...

Aracaju...

2007-07-24T14:06:00.000-07:00

I have been in a city called Aracaju for the past five or so weeks, which is the coastal capital of Sergipe, Brazil´s smallest state. This city is probably one of the less-known destinations in Brazil, at least where international tourists are concerned, but there is still plenty to do here and the state of Sergipe has a number of beautiful things to offer. The city of Aracaju itself isn´t necessarily the most pittoresque if you compare it to many of this country´s architectural gems - it seems to be mostly made up of appartment blocks (with the occasional spotting of a horse or donkey pulling a wooden cart of supplies or rubbish around the city - creating an interesting contrast), although I do quite like the summery style of many of the houses here... Aracaju was however well worth visiting and I have had the most amazing time here. This city certainly does have its strong points, it is relatively safe, and like I´ve said before, it´s the people you meet that really make a difference to your experience in a place... This last month in Aracaju has without a doubt been a great highlight of my travels, and for a number of reasons. Firstly, and most importantly, some amazing people have entered my life and I wouldn´t trade these experiences for anything in the world. I have been staying with Andre (and his mother) who, along with a few other of our Brazilian friends was once a local aracajuano but now lives in NZ. Fortunately, and despite both our itineraries constantly changing, Andre´s visit ended up coinciding with mine, which made for a great time here. Andre´s family is fantastic. Words simply cannot express how wonderful they have been to me. He has a great set of older siblings, most with very affectionate kids ranging from four years old up to my age. His father is a complete character and everytime we´ve visited his chaotic household (in the midst of redecorating) I have always felt like I could have stayed chatting for hours longer... And his mother has of course been wonderful to live with. She too is a bit of a character and her contagious laugh sporadically fills the appartment. The concept of family here is very strong. I have been discovering this not only in Brazil, but all throughout my travels here in South America. Unlike in NZ, it is not uncommon for people in their late twenties or early thirties to still be living at home with their parents, and you really do notice the closeness and affection that exists within the family. Parents generally provide financial support for their children until they finish studying at University and the concept of "family first," in whatever form, more than applies here. I couldn´t even begin to count the number of times that locals have looked at me in complete astonishment after learning that I am am willing to travel by myself, stay in cities where I don´t know anybody, and most importantly, be away from my family for so long. Travelling out of Brazil is difficult for most here - the distances (even within in Brazil) are huge, it is expensive, and this also means being separated from your family... I really have learnt so much about the importance of family here and I hope to be able to take some of these things I am learning with me... Anyway, so I have thoroughly enjoyed every family get-together (these happen often) here in Aracaju and feel very priviledged to have been included in the first place. I´ve shared many laughs with these wonderful people even if I have ended up being the object of amusement half the time, especially when discussing things I find a bit odd coming from a completely different culture. For example; the need to eat feijão (beans) at least once a day (Brazilians can´t understand how I cannot), and the funny looks I get when I decline the offer of sugar in my coffee, or when I prefer to drink a glass of water instead of anything else. I also face looks of concern sometimes at not eating enough, when actually I have just filled my stommach with a huge plate of about ten complex carbohydrates and sometimes various types of meat! I´ve also noticed a tendency to apply very interesting culinary combinations, such as banana with your average meal, mixing avocado with a sweet fruit salad, and piling large quantities of farinha de mandioca (a type of coarse flour derived from a root vegetable) on top of almost every meal. Condensed milk is another thing that I am struggling with. Brazilians, at least here in the North-east, just love it, and you will very rarely find a dessert that doesn´t include it as an ingredient. I swear I will never lick the remainders of a tin of condensed milk when baking again! Another thing; you must never leave your bag on the floor - it will get dirty (which doesn´t really make sense to me since Brazilians tend to be constantly cleaning). Ideally, your bag should have it´s own chair in bars and restaurants, and if it means having it on your lap the whole time then so be it! Then there are the Brazilian novelas. And I thought the Chilean ones were bad... Imagine all of the most cheesy soap operas combined and you will start to get an idea of what I am talking about. Yet most Brazilian females (and some males too I´ve actually discovered) will still be glued to the TV screen at certain hours of the evening. People claim that these novelas touch on important themes of Brazilian society, but the quality of acting is just so poor, so unrealistic, and so overly dramatic that I seriously struggle to sit through 10 minutes without cringing, let alone watch a whole one, and unless killing your twin sister in order to steal her husband (the twin sister then comes back to life of course) is typical of Brazilian society, then I am yet to be convinced...!!! But anyway, at least the Pan American games are taking place in Rio at the moment so that adds a bit of healthy variety to TV viewing... And finally, there is this obsession with showering which I just can´t seem to get my head around. This is apparently due to the climate, especially in warmer places like here in the North-east, although given that it is currently winter here (not that winter temperatures are anything to complain about - it never seems to drop below 20 degrees - can´t complain really!) I am still convinced that this is verging on obsessive compulsive - in fact it´s starting to make me self-conscious about my cleanliness. But surely I shouldn´t feel guilty about not reaching the four-showers-a-day quota, should I??! So it´s these sorts of things we like to joke about on a regular basis (all in good humour of course) - the endless array of fascinating pecularities that you gradually discover when immersing yourself in contrasting cultures, where even the tiny little things can appear so foreign to an outsider... The second major thing that I love about Aracaju, is the beach. I´ve seen some beautiful beaches during my travels in Brazil and I´m told I will see some incredible ones further north, but there is just something about Aracaju´s beach that I can´t seem to get enough of, and I have grown quite attached to it... The beach is so spacious. It´s a long, straight stretch of coast that seems to go for miles - disappearing into the distance with no end in sight. When the sun is out, the sky´s deep blue colouring reflects in the wet sand, as do the beautiful warm tones of an occasional pink sunset... There are casual bars and restaurants dotted along parts of the beach, most spilling out onto the sand where you can sit in the sun and enjoy your fresh juice, cold beer, água de coco or something to eat. You can also flag down the vendors that pedal along the beach on their bicycles selling ice-creams (highly recommended). A game of frescobol (beach tennis) is an absolute must, although it pays to watch where you stand in order to avoid the small stinging jellyfish... I had seen people playing this on the beach in Florianópolis and in other places, although I had never attempted it myself until now. I am still very amateur and poor Andre has had to put up with a weaker playing partner for the past few weeks but at least I have improved since playing for the first time and I have since bought a couple of rackets and balls to take with me. I am very much addicted. The theory is (at least when playing on Aracaju´s flat beach), that if you actually play in the water, the ball gets stopped by the waves rather than you chasing after it as it bounces 2km down the beach... The water´s temperatures here in Aracaju are also quite phenomenal. The sea is so warm here. This also makes for a particularly pleasant evening swim. Andre and I did intend to go running along the beach more often. This only eventuated a couple of times, but at least the intention was there! Certain parts of the beach aren´t exactly walking distance from home, however Andre´s father was generous enough to part with his motorbike for the length of Andre´s stay which made for many a pleasant cruise to and from the beach, and cycling there by bicycle - although it took longer and could get a bit hot in the sun - was also good exercise... I couldn´t have arrived in Aracaju at a better time. Not only because Andre´s visit ended up coinciding with mine, but also because I arrived just as June´s festivities were heating up. São João is an annual and highly celebrated festival that is especially popular in the North-east of the country. It involves a lot of live music and dancing (forró - which is danced in pairs and typical of North-eastern Brazil), typical foods (especially desserts), drinks, costumes and fireworks. The actual day of São João is 23rd June, however the festivities start warming up before this, and continue for weeks afterwards. Even a month later the colorful little flags are still swinging between buildings and in people´s homes, and there is still forró to be danced in the Villa do Forró, a small and temporary village set up for the event with a stage, dancefloor and stalls selling a variety of food and beverages. For anyone wanting to learn how to dance forró, spending São João in the state of Sergipe is definitely your perfect opportunity to practice due to the extensive line-up of live music going on for several weeks and almost every night in Aracaju, as well as in other smaller rural cities further inland. My legs were aching after only two nights of this. It wasn´t until I had recovered from a tropical virus that had been lingering in my system since my time in Bahia that I was well enough to make the most of all the dancing, but once I had my health and energy back I had a great time (that doesn´t necessarily make me a good forró dancer though!). There were so many big festivities going on all over the state of Sergipe during this period that it was virtually impossible to get to all of them, although we did make it to the small city of Estância one night to see the very impressive fireworks that this city is reknowned for. The sorts of fireworks they have here in Brazil are of the type that are no longer considered legal in NZ, and needless to say, I constantly found myself jumping out of my skin whenever one was set off close by. The youngsters of course have no fear in playing with them, and I was suprised not to witness any injuries. The scariest (yet most impressive) one, is the busca-pé, which can be quite spectacular providing it doesn´t chase you halfway down the street. Best observed from a distance that one...! During this period, some nights of forró were bigger than others, like the actual day of São João for example; After a party at Andre´s dad´s place (which was to be my first of many enjoyable family reunions and which took place mostly on the street amongst the continuous supply of fireworks and in between the bonfires that line the roadsides on this particular night), we went to Forró Caju, a larger outdoor area near the city centre constructed especially for these festivities. On this particular night it was so crowded that there was hardly even room for dancing amongst the thousands of forrozeiros there, but we managed somehow and it was a great night... Aracaju is also famous for a number of other interesting little things. It is customary, for example, to eat caranguejos (crabs) near the beach. Along the Passarela do Caranguejo (a long avenue that runs parallel to the sea) there are numerous casual and very popular restaurants where you can sit with a bunch of friends and order your platter of large crustaceans, extracting the meat with your fingers and sometimes requiring the assistance of a small wooden hammer, although apparently it isn´t necessary to beat the heck out of these creatures (as I was doing to begin with - don´t worry they are not served alive), but to simply loosen the joints in order to access the fleshy bits more easily. As you are waiting for your caranguejos to be steamed you can also purchase a couple of handfuls of peanuts from one of the guys walking past (separate from the restaurant itself - New Zealanders would never share business like that I´m sure) which they pour onto the table for you to nibble on, or a chunk of hot queijo qualho on a stick (a type of white cheese which is best enjoyed melted, and a personal favourite of mine) which young boys offer from the roadside, disappearing to heat it up over a small makeshift stove which they carry around. And whilst all this is taking place you can then dispute the spelling of caranguejo... Then there is the caju, a tropical fruit that appears to be the symbol of Aracaju. Who would have thought that cashew nuts actually come from this funny looking (yet deliciously juicy) tropical fruit? - highly recommended after a shot of cachaça and also commonly used to make juice. I am completely fascinated by the caju. I´ve included a photo for curiosity´s sake, and also so that next time you´re munching on your roasted cashew nuts you can put a name to a face!! I´ve also been driven out of the city on a couple of occasions. Andre´s oldest sister owns a farm property just out of Aracaju and so the family often headed there for a churrasco (barbeque). Before one of these visits I was kindly driven through the quaint little city of São Cristóvão on the way there, which was absolutely beautiful. This is Brazil´s fourth oldest city and was definitely worth a peek. I loved the tiny cobbled streets, the little old houses and the various beautiful white-washed churches. There was also a Christ statue on top of a hill nearby. It is much older and smaller than the Cristo in Rio de Janeiro, but to be honest, I thought this little one had so much more character than Rio´s large, clean slab of concrete that has since become one of the seven new wonders of the world... (everybody here knows I still have bitter feelings about that). There is also a new bridge that has been constructed here - linking Aracaju by road to the communities on the other side (the same sort of concept as Auckland´s harbour bridge). This was especially a novelty for Andre since it had been built while he was away in NZ, and we headed over there one day with his brother and sister-in-law to the beach on the other side to have a drink, eat caranguejos, and play a bit of frescobol. I also managed to play the violin whilst in Aracaju. It´s a long story, but basically Andre´s brother-in-law João has a TV music channel which is how it all started. The idea of an impromtu interview in Portuguese (which turned out to be highly embarassing as I stumbled on some of the answers) and playing on TV was at first a bit stressful but then turned out to be very entertaining for all concerned, and which then led to a live show/DVD recording which was also quite fun. It was good to get the fiddle out again after so long... So other than that, this past month has just flown by whilst accompanying Andre on his various visits to friends´places for dinner, family lunches, churrascos, a reggae concert (featuring bands from Aracaju and Salvador), frequenting the best ice-cream parlour EVER which has superb fruit flavours, and following Brazil´s soccer team through to the end of the Copa América. Much forró has been danced and I really will miss that familiar sound of the accordian when I leave Brazil although I´m sure I´ll come across more more of it further North before leaving the country, even if I am now without my favourite dancing partner... Andre also willingly took on the role of pyschologist during his time here - visiting the families of his other aracajuano friends also now living in NZ - reassuring them that no, their children can´t come home just yet but that everything is fine and dandy. It´s been really interesting hearing these parents ask about their children and about NZ. I know I keep saying this, but families here are so close here that the concept of even adult children being away for a few months, let alone a long period of time, really is a huge thing. Andreia (whom I stayed with in Salvador) and her friend Patricia also came to Aracaju for a visit so it was great to catch up with them. I´ve been enjoying the warmest winter I´ve ever experienced (it must be unbearably hot here in summer) and we´ve generally just been enjoying the beach and spending time with Andre´s family. Visiting his father became an outing I always looked forward to - either for lunch or a quiet afternoon whisky, and even a Savignon Blanc from NZ on one occasion which Andre had gifted his father and which was a real treat since the only wine (or should I say grapejuice) that I have tasted in Brazil so far has been virtually unpalatable. That is something I miss about Chile and Argentina, and especially NZ. I´ve enjoyed sampling the various culinary delights that are typical of North-eastern Brazil and I´m continuing to try and love the huge variety of fresh juices on offer thanks to all the tropical fruits that are available (although sometimes I can´t help but be boring and stick to my favourite flavours). I´ve enjoyed the continued Portuguese immersion and have made some really interesting self-observations about my own attempts at trying to pick up this language. I feel so relieved to have studied Spanish beforehand as it really does help in many ways. This is the first time I´ve learnt a language without formally studying it first, which has both its advantages and disadvantages. It´s great for conversational and listening skills, as well as picking up various mannerisms that are specific to certain cultures (even if I do have a horrific accent), although I´ve come across so many words that are written differently to what I had imagined having first learnt them by ear. It´s a very interesting process and I am enjoying it, even though sometimes I get frustrated when trying to express myself with structures that I could manage with a lot more ease in other languages. There is one word in particular which after four months in Brazil I am only now starting to get the hang of. The word puxe appears on most public doors, and although it sounds almost exactly like push in English, it actually means pull. So you as you can imagine, I have to think very carefully before making an embarassing exit... Brazilians also tend to use a lot of hand gestures when talking, to emphasize what they are saying. At first I thought this was just to help me understand what they were saying, but I´ve since discovered that they do it all the time. It´s quite amusing. As great as this Portuguese immersion is, I also feel as if I´m losing my Spanish. I tried speaking it the other day and failed miserable to switch my brain over. It was nothing but portugnol. So I am definitely looking forward to being back in a Spanish-speaking country sometime soon... Andre has since returned to NZ, and on Monday I am heading on north to Maceió to explore some of its neighbouring beaches, and from where I plan to continue travelling further north. I managed to extend my tourist visa a couple of weeks ago and plan to spend another six weeks in Brazil, so I will be updating again soon I´m sure...

Sunny Bahia...

2007-06-18T08:28:00.000-07:00

SALVADOR, BAHIA

I have finally made it to the North-east of Brazil. It took a day and a night to hop over to the next state, leaving the cold behind in Ouro Preto and arriving in Salvador, the state capital of Bahia - the land of blinding sun, beaches, coconut palms and African traditions... I had been sitting next to a lovely old man on the bus for almost the entire 24 hour journey, who was very impressed when I pulled out my sleeping bag and wriggled into it (determined never to be defeated by cold air conditioning ever again). He was adamant that I must have made that same journey countless times before to know that it would be that cold... This neighbour of mine was very shy, but once he started talking he wouldn´t stop. He had a very thick rural accent which I could hardly understand a word of, but he was very friendly and told me lots of things anyway. Since heading further north I have definitely noticed a lot of changes from even the distinct accent you hear in Rio de Janeiro. I´m told this is typical of people who come from the country´s interior, ranging from those that ramble away very fast in a completely incomprehendible string of utterances, to those who speak at a manageable speed but with a very thick twang to their accent (or sutaque as it is called here) whenever the letter ´r´comes into the picture (Just think of an accent from Gore, New Zealand, only in Portuguese). So I arrived in Salvador and was picked up from the bus station by the lovely Andreia - another wonderful contact that I had been very kindly put in touch with by my Brazilian friend Andre. I stayed at her house in an area called Vilas where she was living with her siblings. Her absolute character of an aunt lives upstairs in the same building, and would bang on my door in the mornings concerned that I would be lonely when the others were at work, and who would promptly drag me upstairs and prepare me café da manhá (breakfast), chatting away quite contentedly and not letting me help in any way whatsoever. She really was great value. Andreia lives quite a way from Salvador´s city centre (about 30 minutes by car, but it could take up to an hour and a half by bus), however I also went to stay at her mother´s house in Cabula for a few nights and from there it was a shorter bus trip to the city centre, providing you avoided rush hour traffic. Salvador is a large city. It is the third most populated in Brazil (after São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro) and is surrounded by beaches. It seems to rain almost every day there (at least in the winter months), although only briefly, so unless you are caught in it (which does happen) it doesn´t really affect your plans too much... I first saw the city centre at night after going to a church service with Andreia´s mother at Nosso Senhor do Rosário dos Pretos (a church built by African slaves and which took nearly the entire 18th century to complete) - an experience in itself; a very lively fusion of African rhythms, Catholicism and endless offerings of bread... I also returned to the city centre several times by day. I absolutely loved this part of the city. It is beautiful and has so much character. Surrounding the cobbled streets are a mixture of crumbling old colonial buildings, churches and museums from the 17th and 18th centuries as well as others that have been colorfully restored, focused mainly around the Largo do Pelourinho, a sloped street/square/area of much historical importance (the Pelourinho is a UNESCO World Heritage Site). The word pelourinho itself is important as it refers to the columns to which slaves were tied when facing public punishment. The historical city centre is also a very lively place. There are plenty of bars with outdoor seating, people selling things on the street, and countless shops selling Bahian artwork, gifts and souvenirs. Andreia´s mother was at first a little apprehensive of the idea of me venturing into the city centre by myself (everybody in Brazil seems very suprised that I am travelling and managing to do things by myself - even simple things like catching local buses), but having made it there and back safely she had to laugh when she learnt that the worst things I had to deal with were a marriage proposal and a phone number! Salvador is a very diverse city with a very distinct culture from the rest of Brazil. The city´s population developed from a mixture of Europeans, Africans and native Indians, although the most striking influences in the food, culture, population, music, dance, religion and traditions are those associated with the millions of African slaves that were originally brought to the area, beginning in the 16th century... From Salvador I also managed to explore a little bit more of Bahia, although not as much as I would have liked (Bahia is full of beautiful things to see but I would have needed much more time, and more money). Jacuípe was just north of Salvador on the Costa dos Coqueiros (coqueiro means coconut palm). Andreia´s father now lives there in a house that used to be their beach house, so I was taken there to spend a weekend. The scenery was beautiful - a great place for strolling by the water and taking a bit of time out. There the calmer river meets the wilder ocean, and the odd fisherman casts his line in the calmer spots or from the sand bar. Barracas (wooden shacks selling food and refreshments) line the river´s shores, although many of these were closed for the winter months. On the Sunday we were joined by Andreia´s boyfriend, friends and other siblings for a churrasco (Brazilian BBQ) which I have come to realize is a very typical Brazilian Sunday lunchtime ritual, and unlike in New Zealand where you claim your steak and sausages, here the meat, once sizzled, gets chopped into a constant flow of little morcels to be shared amongst everyone until you are all stuffed so full that nobody can move anymore. Praia do Forte was a beach a bit further north of Jacuípe which we drove to after recovering from the churrasco. The beach there was beautiful. It would have been nice to see it at high tide, but it was equally as stunning as we saw it - old fishing boats resting on the empty shores at low tide. The village was buzzing with life and colorfully decorated for the upcoming festival of São João. (I´ll explain later in next blog entry!) The Tamar project also has one of its bases here - a national project established in 1980 and sponsored by the large Brazilian oil company Petrobras, with the aim of protecting endangered turtle species. This project is located at various points along Brazil´s coast. In the village at Praia do Forte we also saw some good capoeira. Many of you are familiar with this, but for those that aren´t, capoeira is an African cultural expression that was brought to Brazil and developed by African slaves. It combines dance, a form of martial art, and music - a form of self defense that they disguised as song and dance in order to practise it. The major instrument used is the berimbau, a long curved instrument ressembling a bow and arrow (but without the arrow) and with a coconut attached to the bottom of it. It is quite common to see groups of young capoeiristas forming a circle and doing their thing, particularly in Bahia where its presence is very strong... I also ventured down to Itacaré for a weekend whilst in Bahia, a spot which had been recommended to me by various people. I went alone, and by bus. It was a bit of a journey down there, and in high-in-sight I should have probably gone there on my way up to Salvador (along with the hundreds of other beautiful places I would have loved to visit in Bahia). In any case, it was a trip worth doing and it was nice to travel with only minimal luggage for a change. Itacaré is a very small and tranquil city. In fact it is so small it feels more like a village. Located on the Costa do Cacau, there are plenty of beaches there in Itacaré and many of these are good for surfing. I found cheap accomodation right next to the beach - not so much a beach for swimming but very beautiful with lots of fishing boats, and the verandah of the pousada was a very pleasant spot for relaxing in the early evening and looking down over the street at general passers-by. There were plenty of nice beaches within walking distance of town - some very close, others a bit further. Prainha was particularly beautiful and I headed there on my first day but was stopped by some young guys who insisted that I wouldn´t be able to make it there by myself - that I would get lost in the undergrowth and would have to pay 20-30 reais to be accompanied by one or two of these "tour guides." So I went there the next day instead with my new friends Kathlena (an American studying Portuguese in Salvador) and Andrew (a semi-local, being half Brazilian half English). It took about half an hour to reach this beach by foot (as for the thick bush that we would have to deal with - well it was actually a well worn trail...) and the beach itself was really nice. We relaxed there for the afternoon, watching crabs intelligently constructing their little homes (holes) in the sand, swimming in the warm water, and discussing ideas for Kathlena´s upcoming essay on Brazilian cinema. Itacaré really was as beautiful as everyone had said it would be. It was a pity that I became ill there on my last night, in fact I was sick during my whole time in Bahia in one way or another which was very annoying but I have now moved north to Aracaju and I am not planning on moving anywhere else in a hurry, so the body should be able to recuperate fully...

Ouro Preto...

2007-06-18T07:18:00.000-07:00

At least every uphill has a downhill on the other side... That´s what my dear Sophs would always reassure me when we were trekking in Patagonia. Well this theory certainly has to apply to Ouro Preto, or you´ll never make it up the steep cobbled streets of this beautiful colonial city in the Brazilian state of Minas Gerais! I took a night bus there from Rio, arriving at about 6 o´clock in the morning. The air-conditioning on the bus had left me shivering and my teeth chattering (Note to self: carry sleeping bag on board next time!) but on the other hand I guess this was also good preparation for the chilly temperatures I was about to experience in Ouro Preto itself! (The sun was constantly shining there though, so that was nice). After settling in a hostel, showering and digging out what winter woollies I could find, I then set off down the hill to discover the city and its 18th century colonial charm. Surrounded by mountains, Ouro Preto is a small city - well small enough that you can walk everywhere, and small enough that locals bump into each other on the street, or in one of the cosy little bars tucked in amongst the historical buildings. Ouro Preto was once the richest city in Brazil, and is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. This city holds much historical significance, not only because it was rich in gold but also because it was home to the first major Brazilian movement or attempted rebellion against Portuguese rule. There is also a University in Ouro Preto, making for a very lively student atmosphere, especially at night, and the city is also apparently home to one of Brazil´s more memorable carnavals... Praça Tiradentes is the city´s main square (also named after the man who lead this failed attempt at independence), with numerous steep cobbled streets leading up to it. I found this city a little touristic, but very charming all the same. Much of the architectural charm of Ouro Preto has a lot to do with its various churches (there are over a dozen of these, although you come across them so often that it almost feels as if there were more). Many of these are perched on top of the various hills. The mostly baroque-style facades and beautifully painted ceilings inside were well worth seeing. All churches charged an entrance fee (for maintenance) and the only really annoying thing was the persistance of youngsters claiming to be guides (some of them were actually authentic although it was hard to know sometimes), and who would ramble on for quite a while about various historical points without really giving you a choice, and then expect you to pay them... Well I soon cottoned onto this (only reading afterwards that you should only take on guides accredited by certain authorities) and learnt to put my feelings aside and simply say no, or avoid eye contact. I did however let one of them lead me around one of the churches, supposedly the oldest in Ouro Preto and Brazil´s second richest in gold... At night the city´s churches were tastefully lit up (helpful when returning to my hostel located right near one) and which also made for a beautiful view by night down over the city, either from the roadside or from the hostel´s terrace. Having met some wonderful people working/staying at the pousada next door however, I ended up moving there for my second night in Ouro Preto where it was a bit more social. There I felt particularly at home, and I could think of fewer nicer places to sit and eat my breakfast than on their verandah overlooking the city´s rooftops... From Ouro Preto I also visited Mariana one afternoon - another smaller mining city also with a lot of beautiful 18th century colonial architecture, and only a few kilometres away from Ouro Preto. On the way I stopped at Mina da Passagem, claimed to be the world´s largest gold mine still open to visitors and from which around 35 tonnes of gold were extracted while it was in operation. A wooden trolley carries visitors more than 300m into the mine (and 120m deep) where you wander around a bit with a guide and also see a beautiful crystal clear natural lake formed underground. It was very interesting but I thought also a little over-priced considering the poor quality of the guide... well I later realized that my lack of satisfaction was due to my own stupidity - I had accidently joined a group of tourists whose guide I had assumed was part of the gold mine (but who actually had nothing to do with it), and the lovely yet timid local guides who usually take the tours let me tag along thinking that I knew what I was doing and were too shy to insist that I go with them... Quite funny looking back now. Anyway so after all that confusion I then hopped on the next bus and continued to Mariana, which, like Ouro Preto also had cobbled streets to explore - lined with lovely 18th century colonial houses. There I spent a very pleasant sunny afternoon...

RIO DE JANEIRO

2007-06-01T09:12:00.000-07:00

"No mar estava escrita uma cidade..."

Carlos Drummond de Andrade
Rio de Janeiro has to be one of the world's most popular cities. Everybody raves about it. Everybody loves it. And so to finally get here, is actually quite surreal. Rio de Janeiro is famous for so many things - for its sweeping images of O Cristo Redentor - the famous Christ statue with arms outspread, watching over the city and gazing out towards the ocean... For its famous beaches - Copacabana and Ipanema in particular...For the inspiration of much Samba and the birth of Bossa Nova - two of Brazil's great music phenomenoms (and of course everybody knows of the song The Girl from Ipanema)... For its spectacular carnaval, which usually takes place around February and which draws crowds from all over the world every year, for which local samba schools start rehearsing months before in the lead up to this famous annual festival which combines shows, colourful parades, music, dancing, exclusive parties and general mayhem. For its giant soccer stadium, the Maracanã - one of the world's largest football stadiums, and quite rightly so, given that it belongs to the world's largest futebol nation. Before arriving in Rio, I started to get a little bit anxious about how safe this city would be. I had heard stories from travellers (and real stories - not just Chinese whispers) of armed muggings, theft from hostel lockers, credit card fraud, corrupt police, along with the various warnings in my guidebook such as "armed robberies" in certain parks, or that taking a taxi right to the main door of a particular museum would be the safest way to get there, or not to take valuables to such and such an area... So with all these images in mind (along with the perhaps more serious and violent ones constantly portrayed by the media), I couldn't really help but feel a little bit uneasy as the bus pulled into the station... Nati and I quickly chose one of the ladies desperately waving at us through their taxi company's office windows, hopped straight into a taxi, locked the doors, and spent the next 15 minutes or so trying to convince the taxi driver that we were actually Argentinean and not completely gringo (littled did we know, Brazilians don't actually like Argentineans), before arriving safely at our destination. Relief. Well I have since managed to relax a lot. I suppose the negative or violent incidents are usually those most emphasized, especially by the media - anything else would just be far too boring. In Rio I found that poverty was a lot more evident than in previous places I had been in Brazil. It was very much right in front of you in most places you went to. You passed a lot more people sleeping in the streets, had to dodge a lot more puddles of urine, and were approached a lot more (or nearly) by often dodgy characters. I did feel a little unsafe at times, even in daylight in particular areas (although not so unsafe that these places couldn´t be visited - just with enough of an unsafe feeling to be constantly on the alert). In some public places I didn´t feel like I could really sit and relax alone for long. But in general the local cariocas were very warm, friendly and helpful people, and Rio was a very lively place. Yellow taxis darted around the city, men would ride around on bicycles delivering trolley-loads of various things, and white vans would hoon past with young lads hanging out the window and offering (paid) rides - an alternative to buses. Rio is a very atmospheric place. To confirm their reputation, the males were a lot sleazier, which soon became very annoying. Most had learnt their little phrases or "compliments" in English, obviously due to the number of tourists around. I just pretended I didn't speak English. Our first couple of days were grey and dismal as it rained on and off. We decided to venture out in the rain anyway, and after trapsing around under my bright red umbrella I was starting to wonder if Rio really was as amazing as it had been made out to be. But once the sun came out and we were able to fully make the most of all this city has to offer, I soon realized that Rio is in fact a very special place. Seeing Rio from above really is one of the keys to appreciating why geographically, this city is unique in the world. From above, you can take in the bizarre yet fascinating arranagement of; curvy bays and various beaches, a string of islands spilling out into the ocean, large clusters of lego-like buildings nestled in between the many green morros (these are larger than hills, but smaller than mountains), and some of Rio's many favelas, or slums, most of which are tumbling down these morros. Such views are absolutely captivating. There are two main ways of getting a good glimpse of the city from above (besides hang-gliding, or riding in a helicopter). Firstly you have the Corcovado, the hill on top of which the Christ statue stands. This is not only a universal landmark, but a good way to orientate yourself when in the city. We had to wait for several days until the weather was good enough to make the most of this very touristy attraction. From the summit, you can see the Maracanã stadium out to one side, and other spectacular views of the city in the other direction. Unfortunately, the sheer number of tourists ruined this experience for me. I thought the train ride up to the top had been very much over-hyped. As for the "great views" that would be seen from the train that I had read about, there were only a couple of very brief glimpes of anything worth seeing (views that you would later see from the top anyway), and I never quite understood the significance of the giant, tacky, plastic animal figurines that were dotted throughout the "national park" on either side of the railway. Once at the top though, the views were very impressive, however being literally wedged in between all the other tourists with their arms outspread to imitate the statue made it almost impossible for me to relax and really enjoy my R$36,00 experience. As for the Christ statue - well to be perfectly honest I have found it far more effective when viewed from a distance - either its silhouette perched high on the hill against the setting sun, or with mysterious clouds drifting past it, or on television viewed from a helicopter from behind or above. It is probably Rio´s most famous symbol and is actually in the running for one of the new seven wonders of the world. As a statue viewed close-up however, I didn´t quite find it as architectually captivating as I thought I might. But anyway, that is just my personal opinion. Pão de Açúcar (commonly known in English as the Sugar Loaf) is the other main attraction enabling you to view Rio from above. I was much more satisfied with this one. There are two stages to the ascent which you make by cable car (or you can climb up it but to do that you need proper rock-climbing gear). Firstly you stop at Morro da Urca from where there are wonderful views of the city. Then, once you are ready, you can keep going right up to the top of the Sugar Loaf. From there you have even higher and incredible panoramic views of the city - enabling you to identify most of Rio's areas, with plenty of space to relax and look out towards the sparkling ocean and gaze in awe at the city's beauty as airplanes swoop down over the city, gliding past the Christ statue and flying almost below you before landing at one of Rio's airports. Nati and I were fortunate enough to be staying with Hélio (a friend of my father) and his lovely family, which meant a safe place to base ourselves and yet more of that wonderful Latin American hospitality - not to mention that local experience and language immersion that can make such a difference to one's experience in a city. Maria was the maid and such a character. With her contagious laugh and friendly personality, we had many an amusing moment with her in the house, as well as venturing out into the city with her on various occasions. Laranjeiras was our neighbourhood and there were regular buses passing through, meaning easy access to most parts of the city. Praia do Flamengo was the closest beach within walking distance, and the city´s centre could also be reached by foot. I found catching buses in Rio to be relatively straightforward. There seemed to be a constant flow of them, and although I had read and heard that this might not be the safest way to travel about town, I didn't encounter any problems, nor hear of any whilst there. The driver would always let you on the bus even if you arrived when the doors had closed and he was ready to drive off. If you asked the person you payed once on the bus for directions they would remember to let you know when your stop had arrived even half an hour into the journey. And the passenger sitting next to you would always be more than happy to help you locate your destination. The buses tended to zip around the city at lightening speed and at times I had significant trouble in keeping my balance. In fact Nati once took great pleasure in witnessing me fall over backwards in a crowded bus (I had failed to grab onto the handrail before the bus lurched into motion). There is also a metro system in Rio although I never once used it so I am not sure what it is like. Santa Teresa would have to be one of my favourite areas in Rio. You can catch a cute little tram (bondinho) which chugs its way over the Arcos da Lapa (the tall white arches which are another of the city's landmarks - signalling that you are in Lapa, an area known for its buzzing nightlife), and which then climbs its way up through the steep cobbled streets of Santa Teresa, a very interesting area with many characteristic 19th century houses. You pay less than one real to take the tram, or you can catch a free ride by clinging to the tram's sides which is what many of the young locals do - clambering on and leaping off at various points during the journey, giving the ride a very local and atmospheric touch. Natalia and I ventured up there one sunny day, and then the next time I went up alone I decided to stay on right until the end of the tram line, and from there wandered around the area before making my way back down on foot. Santa Teresa doesn't have the best reputation in terms of safety, mainly because it is surrounded by favelas. The area itself was very quiet and tranquil, but it was almost too quiet - this felt a little strange. I was tempted to venture a little bit further towards one of the favelas, but thought I better ask the advice of a local before my curiosity got the better of me... After using the toilet in a little bar, I asked the lady working there what she thought about me walking around alone. She told me the parts I should avoid, and warned me not to pull my camera out. So I took her advice. This area certainly has a lot of character. I also climbed to the top of an old partially restored building in the Parque das Ruinas, which offered quite a good view of the city. Unfortunately, many of the museums in Rio were on strike while I was there and could not be visited. Amongst some of the city's beautiful old architecture were: the Biblioteca Nacional (the national library - which is apparently worth a look although that too was closed because of the strike), the Museu Nacional de Belas Artes, the Universidade do Brasil (which Nati and I managed to sneak inside - ashamedly comparing it´s beauty to that of The University of Auckland!), and the Real Gabinente Portugues de Leitura - a fine old building with a beautiful old library housing rows and rows of ancient books right up to the ceiling. Then there was the Teatro Municipal, which I loved. You could only enter it on one of the afternoon guided tours in Portuguese, so I tagged along on one of these (I have found my international student ID card to be particularly handy in Brazil for getting into these sorts of places for only half the price). Our guide was absolutely fantastic, and from her I learnt more about Rio´s history than from anywhere else. Inaugurated in 1909, and during a time of significant urban development in Rio in an attempt to create a "Paris Tropical," this theatre was built to imitate the Ópera in Paris. From the entrance, to the ceilings, to the staircase, to the restaurant (which now only functions as a bar), this building was absolutely beautiful inside (as well as being very impressive from the outside). We were also able to catch a brief glimpse of a ballet rehearsal that was taking place while we where there. It was definitely a worthwhile visit. The Pavilhão Mourisco was another beautiful old building - its construction dating back to the early 1990s. With it´s beautifully ornate and detailed moorish architecture and ancient library, this impressive castle stands in an interesting area a bit further out of the city, surrounded by favelas. From the top of this building are fascinating views. I was taken there by Hélio whose workplace was right next to it. The Jardim Botánico was another very worthwhile attraction in Rio. I had read and heard about these Botanical Gardens, so I made my way there one afternoon, managing to fit this visit in before getting absolutely drenched in the rain whilst making my way back home. These large gardens were fantastic. They had different areas corresponding to different geophraphical environments, and it was a lovely place to spend a quiet afternoon strolling about at a leisurely pace. I was told I might spot toucans in the Amazônia section although I didn´t see any, however i did almost have the priviledge of being urinated on from above by a couple of cheeky monkeys, who then proceeded to try and knock me unconscious with a falling coconut. Lucky for me, I happened to be looking up at the time and saw it coming. Cheeky buggers!! The gardeners of course found this highly amusing. There are also a number of parks in Rio, some of which you were advised not to walk through alone, and my favourite being Praça Paris, although the tall and elegant white bird who always seemed to hang out there would never let me get close enough for a decent photo. Apparently, the reason why Rio has so many parks, squares and significant buildings is because it was once the country´s capital for quite a number of years. Near this Praça Paris that I was talking about, lives Maria the maid (on weekends), and on Sundays there is a great market right outside her doorstep - Feira da Glória. Maria took us there one Sunday afternoon to try some more Brazilian edible treats, like tapioca (apparently eaten a lot in the North of Brazil) which we tried with ham and cheese, condensed milk, and coconut (seperately) and caldo de cana, a juice made from sugar cane, although we were too full from the tapioca to eat pastel which apparently goes very well with a cup of caldo de cana on the side. Açaí is another of my new local culinary friends. Also typical of the North of Brazil, açaí is a fruit that is native to the Amazon and is consumed a lot having being turned into a dark red pulp and then mixed in a blender like a smoothie and served chilled in various ways - often in a tigela (large bowl - this makes for a delicious breakfast) along with chopped banana, granola (cereal) and honey, or simply in a plastic cup mixed with guaraná and cereal blended in. This makes for a nice texture. I am addicted. It is very tasty and refreshing though, and all of Rio´s juice bars seem to sell it at a very reasonable price. Rio is of course also famous for its beach culture. Copacabana is the one we all know of, however I liked Ipanema. Those images of skimpy bikinis and beach volleyball, are true. You can purchase your coconut on the beach and sip on its chilled água de coco or you can wait for one of the barefooted vendors to walk past you with a chilly bin, calling out their various offerings. For those females who can´t bear to get their bottoms sandy, you can also hire a foldup chair. To be honest I have never really been a big fan of tall buildings and busy roads right next to the beach, however it was great to have the ocean handy. On Sundays, the main roads lining the beach are closed off so that people are then free to ride bicyles, wander around the markets, or buy food from the many street vendors. This makes for a very positive weekend atmosphere (when the weather is good). There was also a pavillion set up there on the sand (although I think temporarily) - drawing crowds of people to the beach for a concert by Ivete Sangalo, a famous singer from Bahia, and then a week later a concert by the Brazilian Symphony Orchestra which I was wanting to see, although the rain soon destroyed any hope of that. I enjoyed sitting on Ipanema beach, or wandering along it. I didn´t actually make it into the water during my time in Rio though, as the weather was very unstable and it was wasn´t always warm enough for swimming. There was one spot in particular where you could walk on some rocks and look back across Ipanema towards the Dois Irmãos, two hilly peaks at the other end of the beach. This was a particularly nice thing to do at sunset. Unfortunately, due to pollution, not all the beaches in Rio are clean enough for swimming. The beach at Botafogo was one in particular. Although a nice place to chill out for a bit, it was so smelly that after a few minutes sitting there on our way home one evening, Nati and I actually had to get up and leave. Flamengo was another beach I quite liked. It was a bit more low-key and closer to where we were staying which meant you could walk there. Praia Vermelha was a small little beach located at the foot of Pão de Açucar. Nati and I also spent an afternoon relaxing there after taking a cable car up to the top of the hill. Although Copacabana is the beach we all know of, this area doesn´t usually appear to be a popular one when in search of nightlife. On Friday nights, Lapa is definitely the place to be. Located near the famous white arches (the Arcos da Lapa) rows and rows of bars feature live music (mostly samba or pagode, although when Nati and I went out there one night we also noticed there was the popular funk along with other styles), and these streets become absolutely packed with people - a fantastic and lively atmosphere. Many people gather on the crowded streets, purchasing drinks from the many street vendors, while others enter some of the huge selection of bars. Another little bar that was quite good was one we went to with Maria and her husband and in-laws, in Glória, virtually right next-door to where she lived. There they had live samba and pagode and it was very much "the local bar on the street corner," where food and drinks were also very cheap.

My stay in Rio also happened to coincide with a football match at the Maracanã stadium (Actually it wasn´t going to coincide so that is one of the reasons I decided to stay a bit longer in Rio). After trying to think of someone to go with, Maria came up with the bright idea of getting her husband and nephew to accompany me, as her husband in particular is a strong Vasco supporter (the teams playing were Fluminense - one of Rio´s more exclusive clubs, and Vasco da Gama), and it would also be their first time at the stadium. I had heard that tickets were sold much cheaper at the clubs a day before the match, so Maria and I went along to Fluminense´s club which was just walking distance from the house, and then off we went the three of us on Sunday evening to see the match. Unfortunately, due to a weekend of rain, the turnout wasn´t so good and so the stadium wasn´t nearly as full as I had expected. The atmosphere was however still there - being there with a full stadium must be something else! The Vasco supporters were much more dedicated (in spirit, noise and numbers) while the Fluminense turnout was pitiful. So we sat on the Vasco side and not being from Rio myself, I chose my team accordingly. The teams drew, and despite the lack of spectators it was definitely still worth getting there. Seeing a stadium (and especially one of the world´s largest) is always best experienced when there is actually a game going on! The fireworks let off inside the stadium certainly wouldn´t be allowed in Auckland's Eden Park though, and the lack of streakers was apparently normal for Brazilian football matches...?! Visiting a favela was another thing I had wanted to do whilst in Rio. Although I despise the idea of "favela tourism" (it really does make me cringe), those who are interested in really learning a bit more about favelas can be taken, quite safely, inside one. You pay money of course, and quite a lot, although at least with the company Nati and I went with, the majority of that money actually goes towards a school programme operating within one of the favelas that we visited. We were really satisfied with the guide that we had - Andrés, an Argentinean who had a very good rapport with the locals. The fact that he had been living in one of Rio's smaller favelas for the past seven years I think also made a difference. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't actually worried about my safety before entering the favela, as I had heard of several people I knew entering in this way before. After viewing the film The City of God, a favela is likely to be the last place you would ever wish to enter. The film offers a very effective, yet incredibly violent portrayal of favela life - one that may have been true several decades ago. However, although poverty sadly does often lead to desperate means involving delinquency and violence, those are not the only realities within these poorer communities. Although drug-dealing is a well-known source of income within many of these favelas (although not all of them - and there are over 700 favelas in Rio), and sadly children are often drawn into this cycle at a very young age since it tends to be the easiest way to earn money, the majority of these favela dwellers are actually honest working people who go to work every day to support their families. The violence and crime that goes on in Rio isn't only committed by those living in favelas. Although drug-dealing is undoubtedly a major cause of much of the violence that goes on in Rio, it is apparently the druglords who also maintain law and order inside these favelas. Stealing from one another, for example, is not tolerated. Locals have much more faith in the druglords than the police in terms of trust, respect, and dealing with any problems or needs that arise, although it isn't exactly a very promising career - most druglords do not live past the age of 30 as they are usually either locked away in prison or shot dead. I was a bit worried as to how I would be perceived by the locals as I stepped out of a van with a handful of other tourists on this "favela tour." Would it seem insensitive and intruding? Would the locals be resentful of the fact that life was not nearly as likely to be so difficult for me? Well the locals were actually very friendly and receptive of our visit. The children especially, were very excited. I was a bit hesitant to take photos as I wondered if this too might cause offense - these people are humans too, and I didn't want them to feel like I was taking advantage of their situation as a touristic experience. But Andrés told us when and where we could and couldn't take photos - not because there was any danger of our cameras being stolen, but because the druglords simply didn't like having their photos taken. If it weren't for the adorable little kids tugging at me and shouting "tira fotos, tira fotos!" and then squealing in delight when I showed them the end result, I probably wouldn't have taken any at all. Ever since studying a little bit about favelas and Brazilian society in a Latin American film paper at University, I have been very curious about favelas - one of the major examples, especially in Rio, of economic imbalance within Brazilian society, with Brazil being one of the world's most extreme examples of uneven wealth distribution. I had always intended on visiting a favela in Rio - a decision I made nearly two years before coming here. I had received mixed reactions from Brazilian friends of mine - some said that under no circumstances was I to enter one and that I would be risking my life, and others had said that if they were in Brazil when I was here, they would be willing to take me inside one. In Chile I had read a newspaper article that offered two opinions on the concept of entering favelas. One perspective maintained that entering a favela could give a person a greater understanding of life inside, and the other claimed that you didn't actually need to enter one to understand that they exist. Well in a sense this is true. There are so many favelas in Rio that you are constantly catching glimpses of them from the bus window, or when looking up towards certain morros or down certain streets, or when viewing Rio from the Corcovado, high above the city. We all know they exist. But at the same time, I do think personally that people are more likely to have a predominantly negative image of favelas if they haven't been inside one. We first visited Rocinha, Rio's largest favela with over 200,000 inhabitants. In the van on the way there, Andrés gave us a historical overview of favelas and explained how and why they became the slums they are today. After entering Rocinha, we got out of the van and talked to some of the artists selling their work on the street. Two of the artists in particular, about my age or perhaps younger, were both very lovely and talented guys. You could see the desperation in their eyes at wanting to make at least one sale that day. We were then driven further into the favela, winding our way down through the narrow streets (usually only room for one vehicle at a time), where we stopped and entered a building and climbed up some stairs to reach an outdoor area that offered a view looking down over the rest of the favela and its huge and chaotic arrangement of tiny, mainly brick houses. We then walked down one of the main streets. This is where we were told not to use our cameras. The atmosphere here was great - energetic and full of life. Just like being on a normal busy street. There were people wandering around and going about their daily business, or grabbing a drink, or a bite to eat. There were motorcyle taxis waiting to transport people up the narrow streets, and children playing together... It was simply like being in a poor neighbourhood. I am not pretending that everything is rosy red inside these favelas, but it certainly did not feel like an unsafe place to be. At the very bottom of this street we encountered the gorgeous little kids I mentioned before. One of the boys had learnt the word "money" in English and didn't waste any time at all in asking us for some. However Andrés soon pulled him aside, knelt down, and explained to the little boy the importance of working to earn a living. We were then driven to Vila Canoas, another much smaller favela with around 3,000 inhabitants. Drug dealing is not present in this particular favela. Here there is also the small school/community centre "Para ti," sponsored partly by the company that had taken us there, and which had been set up as a safe place for children to spend some productive time before or after school. After visiting the school, we then wandered through part of the favela, up and down through the rabbit warren of narrow alleyways right in amongst the small houses. There we were greeted by locals as we passed, and we faced another stampede of children, also wanting their photos taken. I was torn between wanting to see how these people lived - to interact with them and at least try to gain a better understanding of their situation, and not wanting to seem like a tourist in their neighbourhood. As for the American lady sitting next to me in the van who was more interested in playing sudoku than even looking out the window, well I am not entirely sure what her reasons were for being there. Then there was the English photographer claiming to be working on an "art project" for favela tourism. He was most disappointed to learn that it wouldn't be such a good idea to return to a favela alone with his camera. And as for the photos that he took featuring us in them, I hate to think what they will be used for. I am imagining huge billboards in London saying: "Visit a favela now...!" I sincerely hope this is not the case. I guess we can all comment (either negatively, positively or without bias) as much as we like, but let´s face it, those who really know the reality of living inside a favela - be it a druglord, a child, a teenager, a mother.... are those who actually inhabit them. This particular afternoon certainly made for a very interesting and enlightening experience all the same. I have no regrets...As fascinating as Rio was, after two weeks there (which had flown by) I was also starting to feel ready to leave, and anxious to make my way up to the North-east of Brazil as there is so much to discover there and I know time will definitely pass by too quickly once there... Nati left for Uruguay after we had been in Rio for a week, so I am now a lone traveller... Ouro Preto is next (actually I arrived there this morning - it is freezing cold here - my toes are numb as I write this) so I will will pack the bikini away for the meantime and update when I get a chance.

Paradise lost...

2007-05-29T07:47:00.000-07:00

...in the rain...

ILHA GRANDE

After squeezing through the turnstyle of the local bus that would take us from Parati (always amusing with a large backpack), there was some beautiful scenery en route to Angra dos Reis - very green and subtropical out to the left, with the ocean to your right. In Angra dos Reis we purchased some groceries at the chaotic supermarket before taking the ferry across to Ilha Grande, our next destination. Ilha Grande is an island - a protected area, just over an hour´s boat ride away from the mainland, a couple of hours south from Rio de Janeiro. This island is rapidly becoming known amongst travellers as a must-see either on your way up to, or down from Rio. A great part of this island's beauty lies in the fact that it is very much preserved, and in parts untouched. To begin with, there are no cars or roads on the island, and its beaches can only be reached by foot or by boat. Most of the beaches are isolated (apart from the occasional restaurant in a couple of the bays, as well as the village of Abraão which is the island's main centre). Some of the beaches are so isolated that it almost feels like a scene from Swiss Family Robinson (a childhood favourite of mine...), or one of those movies where a plane crashes on a deserted island... The variety of wildlife around also contributes to this island's natural beauty. Whilst walking on the trails you encounter cute little monkeys (the photo makes them look much bigger than they actually are), squirrels, large blue butterflies and giant snails amongst other species. Whilst sitting on the pier one evening there were a couple of bats swooping over us and doing figure of eights above the water, and giant crabs would scutter across the village paths. When snorkelling we came across massive starfish - the size of dinner plates, and hundreds of little yellow and black striped fish. Sightings of turtles are also apparently very common on the island, although we didn't happen across any... As the ferry pulls into the bay of Abraão, the island's main village, it immediately becomes a very bustling place, with locals loading and off-loading supplies to and from the boat and carrying them off in wheelburrows (this seems to be the most practical way of moving things around), and numerous hostel touts trying to catch backpackers as they step off the boat. There are many pousadas and several hostels in the village - all ranging in quality and price, as well as restaurants, houses, horrendously expensive internet cafes, and a few shops. This is the most inhabited part of the island. We were warned not to go to the island if it were raining, as you can't do anything and apparently the lights also go out sometimes. Well unfortunately it started raining the evening that we arrived, and continued to rain during most of our four-day stay on the island... (We could have spent more time in Parati afterall!!) It was such a pity, given the idyllic image of Ilha Grande that we had been given by many people before arriving, however we did have one morning without rain as well as beautiful sunny weather on our last day there. The fact that we were stuck in an absolute DUMP of a pousada probably didn't help the situation either... The lady who offered us some very cheap accomodation was a little bit strange, but pleasant enough, so we went with it. But seriously, this place she took us to was just ridiculous. Now I am normally very tolerant of even the most basic accomodation. It doesn't need to be anything fancy, nor spotless - just a bed for the night, preferably with access to a kitchen for cooking, and most importantly, a safe place to lock away my humble collection of valuables... But this place was just a joke. When it rained, you had to fight a torrent of water when climbing the hill to arrive there, and once inside the gate you were almost attacked by a pack of barking dogs... She assured us that there was a kitchen to use, but later wanted us to pay extra (per day) to use the gas... Well that wasn't too much of an issue considering the accomodation was cheap anyway, but not only did it rain inside the "kitchen" (the dirty, damp, smelly poor excuse for a kitchen that it was), we had to share it with three stray kittens and a dog! The kitchen didn't only stink of dog, but also of chicken poop - to be expected I suppose when there's a crowing rooster right outside your bedroom window to wake you early in the morning to bring you back to reality and remind you of your pitiful location! The fridge was so disgusting it put you off keeping anything inside it, and anyway it was filled to the brim with some very strange food belonging to the lovely (but also very strange) Argentinean gypsy who more or less lived there. There was barely a knife or fork to speak of, let alone pots to cook with, and not only was the running water a lovely brown colour, the kitchen sink was blocked. This lady's solution for this was to dismantle the pipes beneath it and let the sink empty all over the floor!! Luckily, the bedroom was ever so slightly more bearable (apart from the leaky ceiling), although the water in the toilet bowl was the same colour as the kitchen sink, and after every freezing cold shower the bathroom floor was left saturated and therefore rather unpleasant when later returning to use the toilet. It was honestly the last place you wanted to be, especially when the rain meant you were stuck inside much more than intended and couldn't escape from it. It really was miserable. My advice: if you are headed for Ilha Grande, avoid a pousada called Modus Vivendi...! We soon moved out though, which was a huge relief, and found something a lot better down near the centre of Abraão for our last two nights there, trying to avoid bumping into that lady again, which we did - that was inevitable! The weather did eventually clear up giving us a few very precious opportunities to see some of the island, and once our accomodation situation had also been rectified (leaving us more relaxed and in a better mood), we soon discovered that the island was very beautiful indeed. As well as some of the lovely beaches located very close to Abraão, Lopes Mendes was the main beach that everyone had raved about, and from Abraão we walked for about two hours to reach it on our first full day there - a trail that meandered its way through some lovely forest and past a couple of other lovely beaches on the way. Unfortunately, once at Lopes Mendes, the weather turned in, so it was too cold for swimming and we ended up having to return by boat - a long, cold, wet ride. With the rain leaving us shivering and soaked to the bone, we couldn't decide what we wanted most - to arrive and get off that boat, or jump into an icey cold shower at our cold, dirty, animal infested dump of a pousada!! Lopes Mendes was beautiful though, and I am really glad we got there to see it. On our last day there (thankfully a beautiful, warm and sunny one), we hired snorkels and headed off on a boat ride to Lagoa Azul. For only R$25,00, we were taken on a boat trip that stopped at various bays (including Lagoa Azul,
Grande das Palmas and Saco do Céu), where we swam and snorkelled in clear green water, lay on the beach, and lounged on the boat's top deck during the rest of the voyage - relaxing and nibbling on fresh fruit along with some Brazilians and Chileans. After returning to Abraão, we showered and treated ourselves to a cheap but delicious restaurant meal - I was very impressed - a nice way to complete our beautiful day and memorable visit to the island. It was a shame that we were so unlucky with the weather, but it was definitely still worth the visit, and I actually consider myself very fortunate to have been travelling for so many months without the weather having affected me all that much until now. This little paradise wasn´t lost completely in the rain as we had first feared... Aventureiro was another part of the island highly recommended to us - a biological reserve on the opposite side. However getting there was easier said than done. With a bit more time, and had I not left the tent in Chile, we probably would have ventured there to stay for a few nights - but I guess that will just have to wait for next time!

Parati

2007-05-26T17:26:00.000-07:00

What a wonderful little place!! Nati and I were both so exhausted after our full-on week in São Paulo, that we could barely keep our eyes open during the five-hour bus journey to Parati - a small colonial town (well to me it felt like a town, although now I think it may have been given status as a city...) to the north of São Paulo. On arrival however, we were soon brought to our senses as about half a dozen desperate and pushy hostel touts swarmed in on us, all competing for our buisness. I have to admit, during my travels I have often quite enjoyed the convenience of arriving at a bus station without having organized any accomodation beforehand - as often there are usually people there waiting for you who, depending on the size of the town or city, will walk you to their hostel or pousada should you choose to accept their proposal... But having said that, pushy salespeople just will not get anywhere - in fact it just puts you off choosing their services completely and you end up having to snap at them to get rid of them... well, you have to be firm in these situations!! So in Parati, we ended up going with the young guy that was quite relaxed about it all, and who was very receptive of our attempts at conversing in Portuguese. And sure enough the hostel turned out to be really nice, as well as affordable - right next to the river, and with a decent breakfast included... We had very little time in Parati, but it was still definitely worth seeing. Small enough that you could walk everywhere, this gorgeous little colonial town had a lot of character, and it's charm remained very much preserved. Cobbled streets linked the various churches, cute little houses, pousadas, restaurants and other buildings together, with locals roaming around on bicycles, and the occasional donkey tugging on a wooden cart. Indigenous women and children lined a couple of these streets, sitting on the curb and selling their crafts, as well as a larger market where locals were selling mostly artesanal jewellery. A whole lot of old fishing boats were lined up along the wharf where we also got hassled a bit by several young Brazilian lads trying to promote their boat tours (and otherwise), however despite the number of tourists around, and despite the huge variety of accomodation on offer (apparently there are more than 300 pousadas in Parati), it was a destination designed to receive tourists, yet still very much preserved without that overly touristic feel - if that makes any sense at all. As well as the beach close to the town centre, you could also walk a bit further and arrive at some nice isolated beaches around the corner. If we had been able to spend more time there we could have also taken a couple of bus trips even further to explore more beaches and parts of the area surrounding Parati, but with only one night there we sort of had to prioritize and be a bit more organized than usual. The afternoon we arrived was lovely and sunny, and we spent it wandering around the town and checking out what appeared to be the various historical highlights of Parati. Then the next morning we woke up early and went strolling towards one of the further beaches - a lovely and relaxed way to spend our last few hours in Parati before heading north to Ilha Grande. A few more days in Parati would have been wonderful to also discover its surroundings, however even our short visit was well worth it, so if you are ever in the area and undecided, definitely try and get there even if you have limited time, as it's a beautiful little spot. I never did work out if the correct spelling was Parati or Paraty. At first I thought it was the distinction between English and Portuguese but there never seems to be any consistency in the spelling between the two languages. Maybe it has something to do with an indigenous name? Perhaps somebody could enlighten me.......

SÃO PAULO...

2007-05-22T17:39:00.000-07:00

SÃO PAULO...

Why?? Why are Brazilians so friendly? Would somebody please tell my Why South Americans are so hospitable? I am trying to get my head around this recurring phenomenom of how humbling it is to be treated so well, and often by total strangers. To be invited into people's lives, their homes (or both) as if they had known you for years when many of them have actually never met you before, is really quite amazing. On the one hand, we were invited to stay with two Brazilian guys in São Paulo - Ramon and Sérgio (friends of Brazilian Andre whom a few of you know back in NZ). Neither of them had met us before, yet were generous enough to receive us for a week in their small apartment. Well these two have since become great friends and we now miss them dearly. Both psychologists (we nick-named them the Freudian boys) from the North-east of Brazil, these boys were not only wonderful hosts and great flatmates, but also offered us a week of total Portuguese language immersion, since that was our most successful form of communication. This language immersion was so much in fact, that I can now hardly string two words together in Spanish! Then we had Josie, Natalia's adorable friend (and also a local), who was so excited to have us in her city that she wanted to take us out every single day to see various things - constantly insisting on shouting us lunch, and bringing us little gifts. She had even intended to take us on a tour of the city in an ambulance!! (she is a nurse, and thought it would be the perfect way for us to get an overall glimpse of the city whilst avoiding the traffic...) Well that idea didn't quite eventuate in the end, but it's the thought that counts! Then there was Ana and José - an older Brazilian couple that I had studied with in Spain a year earlier. They invited me to their house for dinner one evening (I won't bother describing the little adventure I had getting there by bus!) and it was wonderful to catch up with them again, and then Ana also took me out the next day to see some more interesting parts of the city. And last (but certainly not least), a wonderful group of paulistanos (you all know how you are!), friends of Dominique, another Brazilian that I had studied with in Spain but who is currently living in London. Well not only did I receive a huge list from her of things to do in the city, but also instant emails (most before I had even stepped foot in the city itself) from several of her friends - offering to meet up with us. Well we had some great nights out with this lot and they certainly looked after us very well. The people you meet in a place always play a huge part in the experiences you have there, and nothing beats that access to local knowledge. We barely even came into contact with any tourists in São Paulo and had an amazing time there - definitely a highlight of the trip.

I have to admit, I was a bit apprehensive upon arrival in São Paulo - one of the world's most populated cities (I think it is the third after Tokyo and Mexico City), and perhaps one of the more dangerous ones - at least from the impression we are given as outsiders. But wow, what a fantastic city!! We would be met at the bus station by Ramon and Sérgio. Having never met each other before, the next obstacle was actually recognizing them when we arrived. Well we eventually did, although even the photo that Ramon had sent us of him didn't quite resolve the situation completely - we still didn't recognize the two guys that stopped suddenly and looked at us, and were at first a bit hesitant to do anything (often, at least from my own personal experiences, it is best not to make eye contact if you do not want to be bothered...) But sure enough, it was them, so we made our introductions, they handed us some metro tickets, and we returned to their apartment to get rid of our bags and begin an amazing week in São Paulo.

So to describe São Paulo... where do I begin? Well it's a concrete jungle, but such a huge one that it ends up being very impressive. Everyone is used to the odd skyscraper in a city, but unlike most cities where these are usually concentrated in one area, São Paulo is just covered in them. We soon learnt this by ascending the Banespa tower - an attraction that was both free of charge, and worth our while. For those of you paulistanos who haven't gone up it yet - get up it now and see your city from above - it's pretty overwhelming! From the 35th floor of this building (a design inspired by New York's Empire State Building), the panoramic view of São Paulo from above is simply overpowering. Back down at ground level and walking around the city's centre, you'll be surrounded in many parts by the tall high-rises towering above you. However, a number of the city's parks offer an occasional breath of oxygen - most of which are quite different to the parks I am used to.. Instead of large open spaces, they are packed full of tall trees and greenery - rather like spontaneous leafy jungles dotted amongst the concrete giants surrounding them. São Paulo is also home to a number of different cultures and nationalities... In the late 19th century, Brazil received a lot of immigrants (Italian, Japanese, Syrian, Lebanese, Jewish, Armenian, Polish, Chinese, Korean etc) - most in search of better work opportunities and quality of life, and many settling in São Paulo as well as in other southern states. This cultural fusion is very much evident in São Paulo, and in many ways. You can sort of imagine what the traffic would be like in a city of around 11 million people (and that´s just the inner city - the population of the greater São Paulo is apparently around 18 million...!) The metro system was very handy for getting around, although I never quite figured out the buses - it was pretty frightening waiting at a bus stop (and wondering if you were even at the right bus stop), only vaguely knowing where you were headed, and suddenly about ten different buses turn up at the same time... Getting off in the right place was then the next thing to worry about... As for rush hour, well nightmare traffic is of course to be expected. A system has been introduced however, whereby on one day of the week cars are not allowed on the road during certain hours - a day corresponding to the car's number plate. Ignoring this would result in a fine by the traffic police. Locals however, maintain that this system hasn't actually achieved much... Getting to know some of the different parts of the city, was most interesting. For starters, there was Bairro Liberdade, the area where we were staying, although it wasn't until our last night in São Paulo that we realized there was still so much more to discover there... (Just another excuse to return, I say!) Known as a bit of a Japanese area, this neighbourhood was really interesting. It felt reasonably safe, and was also quite lively during the day, with people selling things along the side of the road etc. We were also close to two different metro stations. Our apartment was also near they city's cultural centre. There they had an exhibition on the history of some of Brazil's music, as well as providing info on (and being the venue for) just some of the live music going on the city. Bingo!! We went to a few of these performances - some of which were absolutely excellent, like the group Nanana da Manguiera - a group from Rio de Janeiro's famous samba school, and a performance by some other very talented samba musicians featuring a number of different singers, as well as several other live performances during the week that we were there. From our apartment we could also walk to the grand Avenida Paulista, the city's long, main, modern avenue, with sky-scrapers on either side, a constant flow of traffic, museums, parks and the usual street vendors selling their sunglasses as well as other objects - disappearing pretty smartly at the arrival of police on motorbikes. Watching these vendors suddenly pack up their things and play cat and mouse with the police - sneaking behind and around the kiosks, was always an amusing sight... Then there was the city's historical centre, where a lot of São Paulo's interesting places were concentrated. The Mercado Municipal was fantastic. The colorful range of exotic fruits was particularly fascinating, and although not the only produce on offer, a great attraction for me. We managed to try a good number of them. I even got a bit carried a way and spontaneously decided to buy one of every fruit that I hadn't ever seen before... Well that soon started to get a bit expensive and I had to make a few desicions as to which ones I could bear to part with. It was a relief to discover that most of them actually came from the north of Brazil where I will be eventually travelling anyway. It was all very fun though. We then went to one of the restaurants looking down over the markets, and ate a typical sanduiche de mortadela. Rua 25 de março was also worth a look. Absolutely buzzing with people and energy - a street packed to the brim with vendors advertising their pirated CDs and other goods (anything you could think of) at the top of their voice, and disappearing suddenly, of course (and doing it very well considering how many of them there were) as the police did their occasional circuit of the area. Praça da Sé was another point of interest in the city's historical centre - there I almost got attacked by a female gypsy who wouldn't physically let go of me after refusing her services (another amusing moment), but the focal point of this area was the incredible Cathedral towering over the square. Very impressive - and beautiful, especially from the outside. It was near this area that we also spotted the pope as he flew by on his pope-mobile. The Teatro Municipal was another impressive building from the outside (and stunning, I'm told, from the inside). I would have particularly loved to attend a concert there - this is apparently the best and only way to really get inside it, and there were some orchestral ones in particlar that I would have been really interested in, but unfortunately the upcoming programme didn't feature anything that coincided with the dates that we were there. Away from the historical city centre, the Praça Benedito Calixto was another area worth visiting - on Saturdays. It had a crowded market, filled with stalls selling all sorts of wonderful things - ranging from crafts, to antiques, to clothing, as well as all sorts of typical and interesting foods - with locals sitting around playing chess and listening to live music. It was a great atmosphere and a pity that we arrived a bit late in the afternoon as it was starting to close down. Moema was an upmarket area with some very trendy (and expensive) bars. We were there only once, on our first night in the city when Josie and her brother picked us up and generously shouted us some food and drinks. The neighbourhood where Josie and her family lived, São João Climaco, was absolutely fascinating. From the car on the way there, and from the bus on the way back, we caught a few glimpses of Heliópolis - São Paulo's largest favela (slum). We ventured to Josie's house on the Sunday afternoon for lunch with her lovely family. With three adorable generations living in the same little house, we were filled to the brim with delicious food and received a lot of attention from her affectionate mother and doting grandmother. Vila Madalena was a fantastic area for going out at night and meeting up for a drink with friends. The neighbourhood itself reminded me of residential areas like Mt Eden, back home in Auckland, except with bars instead of houses. There were just streets and streets of them, and with so much variety that unless you were with locals it was difficult to know where to go. Not arriving too late also meant that you could claim a table for the night. There was a great atmosphere there, especially on the weekend when the bars were packed with mostly young paulistanos - spilling out onto the street in all directions. For me our best night out there was with our new local friends - the group of paulistanos I mentioned before, who took us to a bar (appropriately) called Samba. We were lucky to grab one of the last empty tables before the live music started and the bar filled up, although that didn't exactly matter later on since everybody was up and dancing samba anyway! The music and ambience were great and we were disappointed when the night had to end. Another great little place we went to in São Paulo was a restaurant called Portella. Ramon and Sérgio took us there on the Saturday afternoon for some good, cheap feijoada accompanied by some great live samba. That was one very enjoyable afternoon.

As for the city's museums, well where do you start?! The Museu da Língua Portuguesa would have to be my favourite - a modern, interactive and fascinating museum covering the history of the Portuguese language in Brazil and the way in which it influences the culture, religion, music, cuisine, sport and other aspects of Brazilian life, as well as the way it combines African and indigenous languages, and those of the many different immigrants that arrived in Brazil. We spent hours there and found that our Portuguese reading comprehension wasn't actually too bad at all, considering everything was in Portuguese. The MASP (Museu de Arte de São Paulo) was another major one, on Avenida Paulista. We managed to time our visit with the free day (Mondays) and check out the Darwin exhibition - particularly interesting for Nati who is studying Biology, and we found it really worthwhile, although I'm not entirely sure that having large, live iguanas on display in glass cages was really necessary...! The Itaú Cultural was a very modern and abstract art exhibition, also on Avenida Paulista, and the Museu da Casa Brasileira had a very interesting display of old Brazilian furniture. There are so many museums in São Paulo it is just ridiculous, as you would need weeks to get through them all. I could name at least half a dozen more that I would have liked to visit with a bit more time up my sleeve.

As for the culinary highlights, well I managed to try a few of the country´s edible treats that I had been recommended. Let's just say I am now addicted to pão de queijo - best described as hot round balls of cheesy bread... It was good to try feijoada again - have I mentioned that Brazilians love beans?! (I am suprised that such a populated city isn't so smelly - although to be perfectly and perhaps unecessarily honest, I didn't actually notice any more side effects than usual...)!! I mentioned the sanduiche de mortadela earlier - a giant, hot, dripping sandwich filled with so much meat that there was simply no polite way of eating it... Delicious though! Pasteis were hot savoury pastries that could come with a variety of fillings - ranging from the giant street vendor's version, to those served in more upmarket bars or restaurants. As I was saying before, São Paulo was also my first real chance at sampling some of Brazil's exotic fruits. I can't for the life of me remember what half of them were called, but they tasted great! Most establishments also sold delicious fresh juices made from many of these. And then of course there was the caipirinha - Brazil's famous cocktail usually made with cachaça (although this could often be replaced with other spirits).

I could go on and on about São Paulo. I had been assured by many a Brazilian before arriving there that this city had everything. And it does. I could have easily spent a lot more time there, and am definitely planning to head back at some stage - hopefully sooner rather than later. It's a shame that many travellers avoid the city altogether because of its dangerous reputation. I generally felt very safe there - taking the same precautions that I would in any other large and densely populated city. And so do the locals - they drive with their car doors locked, and apparently do not have to stop for red traffic lights late at night... Spending a lot of time with locals also probably made a difference. It wasn't until our last night in São Paulo that we perhaps felt vulnerable for the first time. Being involved in an attempted armed robbery through the car window was the only situation that could have been potentially dangerous for us (although at the time it was a bit surreal...). Now, Natalia wants me to dramatize the situation a little and say that we had knives held to our throats, but it didn't actually turn out to be as serious as it perhaps might sound... The young guy (who claimed to be armed with a gun, although there was no evidence of any such weapon in sight) quietly demanded money through the driver´s window, however Frederico, our friend driving the car, managed to calmly and safely remove us from the situation... Despite this incident, I really do think that this dangerous image of São Paulo is over-hyped, although certain elements may obviously be true depending on how unlucky you are. Unlike Rio de Janeiro, the favelas, or slums, are generally located on the outskirts of the city, so you are less likely to come into contact with much of the violence and delinquency that is often associated with them. As for pick-pocketing and other petty crimes, well it is really just a matter of being cautious and alert at all times, and avoiding certain areas - especially at night. I certainly would not hesitate in returning to this city, for the people especially, were amazing. São Paulo certainly wins Liz's prize for overall friendliness. Never before have I been in a large city where the locals have been so welcoming, so hospitable, so friendly. Everybody, and I mean everybody was friendly - whether it be the bus driver, the cab driver, the shopkeeper, the supermarket worker, the policeman, the soldier who was meant to be on duty as the pope arrived, the passenger sitting next to you on the bus, the person overhearing your phone-call or standing behind you in a queue... or even the guy who had given you directions but then later chased you 100m down the street after confirming the information with another passer-by... And let's not forget the friends of your friends - who instantly become your friends too... I found the paulistanos I came across to be absolutely amazing, helpful and generous people - quite a phenomenom indeed for a huge city. I was very reluctant to leave São Paulo, but it is always very fulfilling when you are able to move on to your next destination having formed some great friendships and having left behind some wonderful memories... While on the one hand a week wasn't enough time there, it was certainly enough to make for one unforgettable experience. And as cheesy as it may sound in Portuguese, I´m going to say it anyway: Tudo o que é bom dura o tempo necessário para ser inesquecível...

O Papa no Brasil...

2007-05-15T06:30:00.000-07:00

O Papa no Brasil...

So this isn´t the best photo, but you can still kind of make out who it is... It was by sheer coincidence that we arrived in São Paulo on the same day as the pope. Over the past week, media has been dominated by coverage of Pope Benedict XVI´s visit to Brazil. I think he has left now, and we didn´t even expect to see him, but one afternoon while we were in the city centre, we noticed the crowds and decided to join the rest of São Paulo and line up behind the barriers on either side of a street that had been blocked off. Whilst chatting to a soldier - who then offered me his email address (which I promptly discarded after noticing his wedding ring - although I couldn´t not pretend to keep the piece of paper given the size of the gun he was holding), the pope suddenly flew past in his pope-mobile in time for a very quick glimpse...

Curitiba...

2007-05-13T16:20:00.000-07:00

We finally managed to pull ourselves away from (I need to stop saying that) Florianópolis, and headed for Curitiba - a city just a few hours north by bus. The main reason for heading to this city, was to visit my dear friend Giovana whom I studied with in Spain about a year ago. We were met at the bus station and taken to her lovely home in the north of the city, where we stayed for a week - yet again very humbled by this amazing hospitality. Curitiba doesn´t really come across as a city that would attract many tourists, but it is a very interesting place. A modern city, it is also known for its high quality of life. Its state-of-the-art transport system for one thing, made getting around very easy - I was particularly fascinated by the long transparent tube-shaped bus stops where you pay your bus fare on entry. Although a modern city, there are some lovely old buildings in Curitiba´s historical city centre - like the gothic style cathedral and a handful of other nice smaller churches, as well as various other historic buildings. The Avenida 15 de Novembro is a long pedestrianized street lined with shops, and especially bustling in the evenings as people finished work. On sunday mornings there is a huge market which dominates the historical city centre and spills out into many of the neighbouring streets and pedestrian areas. There they sell all sorts of things, from food, to antiques, to crafts... it´s so popular that you really do have to be pushy to make it through the crowds, but definitely worth a look if you can make it out of bed. There are also a number of parks in the city, although we didn´t end up getting to many of them. The Museu de Olho is a fascinating modern building designed by the architect Oscar Niemeyer (who designed much of the modern architecture in Brasilia - Brazil´s capital city, and Rio de Janeiro). Perched high up in the air, it has been designed in the shape of an eye...(olho is "eye" in Portuguese). Unfortunately, we we couldn´t go inside as we had left it till our last day in Curitiba and it was closed in preparation for a new exhibition. But it was certainly worth a glimpse from the outside, and we did go into the museum below it which had some interesting exhibits.

So we spent the rest of our stay in Curitiba being looked after wonderfully by Giovana and her lovely family - meeting up with her friends and boyfriend, visiting her tranquil family farm just out of the city - either for drinks in the evening with her sister and brother-in-law, or for a family BBQ on the Sunday afternoon. We enjoyed some very tasty meals at her house, and were also introduced to some great typical dishes, like Feijoada - a typical bean, rice and meat dish (Brazilians love beans) which you usually share amongst friends on a Saturday at a restaurant.

On one of our last days there, Natalia and I took the Serra Verde Express (a train) to a cute little town called Morretes (it is also possible to continue further to Paranaguá). There were some amazing views as the train meandered its way up through the Murumbi mountain range (one of the most preserved areas in Brazil), and we were very lucky to have a great day for it. The train windows were set very low however, and so it was often a matter of sitting on the edge of your seat, peering out and waiting for the next gap through the trees, or between the tunnels. What we did see though, was amazing. Once in Morretes, we went in search of a restaurant to try the local dish Barreado, which is a little bit like Feijoada. We then spent the afternoon wandering around this quaint little town, before catching the bus back to Curitiba - another beautiful ride although the weather packed in so there wasn´t all that much visibility.

Our week in Curitiba went very quickly, and it was suddenly time to move on... time to head for the big smoke - São Paulo. Our bus left early in the morning and we had six hours to contemplate what would become of us in the city reputed as one of Latin America´s most dangerous... The first couple of hours of scenery during this bus ride were absolutely stunning. The weather was beautiful and I was just staring in amazement out that window - at the constantly green and mountaneous landscapes. It then started to rain, allowing for a guilt-free 40 winks before arriving in São Paulo...

Sunny Floripa...

2007-05-04T13:21:00.000-07:00

FLORIANÓPOLIS, BRAZIL

Well this is the life really, I have to say!! Imagine sitting on a white sandy beach, sipping from a refreshing coconut on one of Brazil's most popular islands, where the temperatures are warm and balmy almost all year round... It's really quite ridiculous...

I decided to begin my travels in Brazil with a couple of weeks in Florianópolis, which is an island just off the mainland of Santa Catarina, one of Brazil's southern states.

Refering to Florianópolis as an island makes it sound kind of small, but it is actually quite sizeable and is in fact Santa Catarina's state capital. Florianópolis, or "Floripa" for short, is a very popular destination for surfers and holiday-makers, especially Argentineans in the summer (my friends from Buenos Aires had always raved about it), however Natalia and I were lucky enough to have arrived at the tail end of summer, so the beaches were a lot less crowded and accomodation prices were cheaper. We hadn't organized any accomodation before arriving as we weren't entirely sure of the best location, and prices were still looking a bit daunting (well, when you are on a very tight budget like mine) despite the fact that they had apparently dropped considerably since the summer months. Luckily, on arrival, we were pounced on at the bus station by a very (and perhaps overly) enthusiastic Brazilian guy promoting hostels for Hostelling International, but who was actually more interested in convincing us to stay in an apartment in Barra da Lagoa, a long white sandy beach (which he claimed to be 14km long - I have yet to verify that) and fishing village to the east of the island. We had heard that the area was nice, and at around NZ$13 each per night, the price he offered us to stay for a week in our own apartment (with kitchen, bathroom etc) was very affordable, so he drove us there to check out the apartment and we have never looked back...

The apartment's lovely owner, Silvana and her family were the perfect neighbours, and after extending our stay twice (we ended up staying there for two weeks instead of the 7 days we had initially intended on) we soon got to know the local shop owners (like the crazy fisherman working at the corner store), and our other neighbours (like the little old lady who was half my height and who gifted us two tomatoes one day when we discovered that the fruit shop was closed). It was great to be near the ocean again after four months (mostly) away from it, and to be finally experiencing warm enough weather to enjoy it properly. We were staying just around the corner from the beach. It took literally one minute to walk there... So the day usually began or ended (or both) with a walk, jog, swim, or moment on the water's edge... In Barra da Lagoa we had everything we needed (apart from an ATM machine which we learnt the hard way at one point!). There were a couple of very small supermarkets, a great little fruit and vegetable store literally a few steps from the apartment where you only spent about NZ60cents per kilo to feast on giant papayas and watermelons (although I must admit I have being missing Chile's abundance of avocadoes lately). There were also a few restaurants next to the beach (as well as on the beach), and so the only thing really missing was a fish and chip shop!! For us the atmosphere was very relaxed, and the Brazilian locals seemed very friendly and approachable. Anybody trying to selling you something (from artesans, to shop owners, to waiters lingering outside their restaurants) would always treat you very pleasantly if you refused, and either continue to chat with you or wish you a lovely day. That was the very first time I had come across that during my travels so far in South America. I simply didn't notice any pushiness at all and it really did take me by suprise. You would see groups of older men or women sitting around having a natter on a bench, or over the fence, young children never seemed to be at school and would play with each other outside until late and night, and people were constantly wandering casually to and from the beach. Even the stray dogs were a meaningful part of our time there. Now I have never really been a great fan of dogs, but there was just somethingr which we continued to name Leo even after discovering it was a female... She was honestly the most loyal little creature I have ever come across. One of our first mornings there, we went for a very long run along the beach and she followed us all the way. Since that day she always sought our company - no strings attached (even though she was extremely malnourished). There's something about walking along the beach with a dog in tow, especially at night, and we always enjoyed her company. We actually started feeding her (which I don't think some of the locals liked so much), and watching her sudden and uncontrollable excitement at spotting us from a couple of hundred metres away was always very touching (her permanent limp meant that you could always spot her from a distance). A bit like latino men sometimes, these particular street dogs could get quite possessive and incredibly jealous... Leo would bark at any (human) male walking past, and would only let a select few of the other street dogs near us. She couldn't swim and was afraid of the sea, but would always wait anxiously at shore until you got out of the water. I also remember going for a swim one morning, leaving my shorts on the beach, and one of the other dogs plonking himself down right next to them as if to keep an eye on them... It was all very sweet. Anyway, you are probably wondering why on earth I am rambling on about this but it was a beautiful part of our experience there so I couldn't help but include it...

Despite already living near a beautiful beach, we thought we should also make an attempt at discovering some of the other 42 beaches of Florianópolis. Most of them were too far to reach by foot, so we relied on buses and occasionally hitch-hiking, as we found that the bus system could at times incredibly slow, sometimes having to catch at least two buses (although only having to pay once made things a little more straightforward). We therefore didn't quite get to all the beaches that had been recommended to us, however we did check out a few, such as the surfing beaches Mole and Joaquina (where there were also sand dunes), the nudist beach Galheta (although we didn't actually sunbathe or swim there), the more isolated southern beaches Armacão and Matadeiro, and the quaint little Prainha do Leste which was just a short walk from our neighbourhood after crossing a bridge over the river, as well as spending quite a bit of time at our own beach in Barra da Lagoa. We got the impression that the beaches to the south of the island were much quieter and less commercialized. I would definitely like to get back to Floripa before leaving South America (whenever that may be!) as there are still a lot more beaches to discover there. We just didn't want to be sitting on buses everyday when we had our own beach right at our doorstep, so we concentrated on the few that we did see, and we certainly have no regrets. So throughout our time in Floripa we spent most of our time just relaxing, swimming, sunbathing, chatting to people, sipping on agua de coco, and discovering the various beaches. We also took a little boat trip to the Costa da Lagoa, which turned out to be a lovely and spontaneous sort of a day. After not knowing where we were supposed to get off the boat (it seemed to be simply a means of transport for locals more than anything), we finally ended up at a little secluded bay where you stepped straight into an outdoor restaurant. Neither of us had any extra money on us, so we somehow found our way out of the restaurant area and then headed for the bushes, first finding nothing but the odd house or bach, but then stumbling across a tiny little bay where we spent a great afternoon relaxing in the sun and cooling off in the water. We only ventured into Floripa's city centre once while we were there, and only for a few hours to buy our onward bus tickets and to have a quick look around. Although the markets and the cathedral were worth a look, we were only too relieved to return to our little seaside neighbourhood.

Among some of the people we befriended in Barra da Lagoa (we didn't only hang out with dogs), were Doran - a Canadian who was staying in the apartment next to us. Doran somehow managed to cause an explosion with his gas stove, so after popping over to cook in our kitchen, that's how the friendship started... We had a good number of laughs and beach moments with him before he left us a few days later to continue his travels. Cristián was a Chilean who had been in Floripa for an oceanic conference, and whose laptop had unfortunately been stolen by an Argentinean street artesan, which meant he ended up staying longer in Floripa in search of it and moved to Barra da Lagoa to stay in an apartment close to ours. Also a musician (and particularly a fanatic of Bossa Nova - yay, Brazilian music!), it was through him that we discovered the bar Vigia do Casqueiro, just over the bridge in Barra da Logoa above the beach Prainha do Leste, where we went a couple of times to listen to live Brazilian padoge and samba. So that was great, and very handy to where we were staying, and exactly what we were looking for. Brazilian music truly is amazing, and one of the reasons I am here in Brazil in the first place. It was in that bar that we met Alexei, a Brazilian local who we also enjoyed hanging out with a bit during our last few days in Floripa... Jessica (from USA) and Andrés (her Colombian boyfriend) were two lovely nomadic artesans who we really enjoyed meeting and who were spending a few weeks in Floripa - Jessica making and selling her natural handmade jewellery, and Andrés singing and playing his guitar in restaurants or wherever there was an audience. Meeting these two was a very humbling experience. I thought I was barely only scraping through with the few savings that I have, but Jess and Andrés live very simply (yet quite content) day by day off the money they put together from their sales - every bracelet sold or note played would determine the next bite to eat, and clearly for them growing as a person and sharing with others was always more important than any luxury item. Getting to know these two very down-to-earth people certainly made me feel a lot more appreciative of what I have.

There were a lot of very beautiful people in Floripa, but you could also smell the vanity in the air. The young male surfers took the hot weather and beach environment as a permanent opportunity to show off their tattoos and chisled torsos, and the Brazilian bikini, although fabulous on a trim, tanned, Brazilian female, really does leave very little to the imagination... Brazil is apparently a world leader in cosmetic and plastic surgery, and I am sure we spotted a few fakies.... It will be interesting to see what observations we make later on in Rio de Janeiro, (not that I was really looking but these people aren't particularly self-conscious when strutting past either!) - Brazilians really know how to hold themsleves. Fortunately for us, we weren't subjected to as many flourescent speedos or hotpants in Floripa as I had predicted...

So we had a fantastic time in Florianópolis. It was great always having the beach at hand, as well as mostly lovely warm weather - apart from two or three days during the middle of our stay. It didn't matter that we (and our belongings) were covered in sand half the time, we were on holiday. I wouldn't say that my Portuguese is coming on in leaps and bounds, but it certainly is improving and I am learning a lot. Having the Spanish certainly helps, and it was great to have people constantly asking us if we were from Argentina, not Gringolandia...

Iguazu Falls!

2007-04-20T15:27:00.000-07:00

Puerto Iguazú...

So I finally left Santiago after spending almost a month there (and a good one). I then began about 40 hours of travelling by bus (meeting my friend Natalia halfway) to finally arrive in Puerto Iguazú. On leaving Chile, the journey was absolutely spectacular as the bus crawled through the Andes to reach Argentina. When the bus stopped for 20 minutes in Mendoza I nearly had a heart attack when I returned (after searching for something to eat - a ham and cheese sandwich was, as predicted, pretty much the only thing on offer) to find the bus was gone...! Two friendly locals however managed to calm me down and explain that the bus had probably disappeared to be cleaned, and would be returning shortly. So sure enough, it did return, and I arrived in Córdoba as planned, where I met Natalia and from there we caught an overnight bus to Puerto Iguazú. As we travelled up through the province of Misiones, there was quite a dramatic change in scenery and climate. The scenery had turned very geen, and we drove past fields and fields of crops, and rich red soil. It was also obvious that parts of the area had recently been flooded. After dry Santiago, I really felt the heat and humidity (and the mosquito bites!). Puerto Iguazú is a small town right up in the north-east of Argentina, and right on the border with Paraguay and Brazil. It mainly serves as a centre for people visiting the Iguazu Falls, which was exactly why we were there... We arrived in Puerto Iguazú to pouring rain, and found a hostel which we only stayed in for one night as we weren´t all that happy with it... We then stumbled across another much smaller and atmospheric hostel which we really liked and so moved there for the remaining three nights. The town is a quaint little place - every few metres you stumble across a local sipping mate in their shop doorway, as well as young males hanging about and giving the usual piropos (compliments), directed at any female walking past. I was absolutely horrified to receive one (which I won´t repeat) from a young boy who looked about nine years old. I turned around and gave him a very stern look... I´ve also noticed (in and around Puerto Iguazu) a lot of very young children asking for money. It really does break my heart to see these beautiful little kids approaching people for money on behalf of their parents (you can always spot them watching from a distance). You cannot guarantee that this money isn´t going to be used by the parents to buy drugs, alcohol or cigarettes, so the best thing you can really give them is something edible. Natalia gifted her tub of dulce de leche to two gorgeous little boys the other day, who, when we weren´t looking, could barely contain their delight as they dipped their little fingers in, although were trying very hard not to let us see... I did however notice their mother in the distance with a smile on her face... It would be so tempting to just pick one of these little creatures up and whisk them away, but I did promise my mother I would not return to NZ with a bundle of little orphans for her to care for...! (I am planning to do some volunteer work in an orphanage later on). In Puerto Iguazú we were constantly being approached by people trying to sell us tours to the falls and elsewhere, as well as artesans in the streets trying to sell us their goods - all of which was a bit pushy for my liking but then it was quite a tourist-driven place. We still enjoyed our time there regardless. From Puerto Iguazú it is only a short walk to Hito Tres Fronteras, the point from which you can see both Brazil and Paraguay - separated from Argentina only by two rivers - Iguazú and Paraná. It really was quite bizarre standing there as the sun disappeared... (and beautiful too of course). From Puerto Iguazú we also took a "tour" (I hate that word) down to a couple of spots in the province of Misiones. We first stopped at the amethyst and quartz mines of Wanda, which were fascinating. I wish I had the photographic expertise to be able to provide you with a good photo!! We then continued to a yerba mate factory where we were given a free tour of the place. A friendly worker took us around the building and explained the whole process (from after the leaves had been dried) right up until the final product being packaged, to be later enjoyed as a regular, brewed, tea-like infusion in certain areas of South America - yet another beautiful and interesting tradition. The smell where the leaves were stored in sacks after being dried out, was absolutely divine. We were also given some of their products to take away. We then continued further south to San Ignacio Miní, one of the major Jesuit ruins in the region, and which, together with the neighbouring ruins of Santa Ana and Loreto, is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site. In the sweltering heat we followed a guide around the ruins, which were fascinating. We then headed back to Puerto Iguazu. So although the day had been really worthwhile, I wasn´t entirely satisfied with the "tour" itself (which is why I am always reluctant to do them). The driver seemed to enjoy overtaking cars on blind corners or as approaching hills, and neither him nor his assistant even introduced themselves, let alone explain anything that was going on. Be we still had a great day, saw some fascinating things, and enjoyed the company of a lovely Argentinean couple and their two young children who were also on the tour. Back in Puerto Iguazú, we caught up with Kylie - an Australian friend who I first met down in the south of Chile. So it was good to meet up with her again and catch up on a bit of park gossip from the national park Torres del Paine where I first met her and where she had been working as a volunteer. Hopefully we´ll be reunited down there again at the end of the year to work as tour guides...

IGUAZU FALLS!!

It took us a whole day to explore the Iguazu Falls from the Argentinean side... We caught a local bus to the National Park where the falls are, paid 30 pesos to enter (about $15NZD) and were then free to wander around for the day. If you get your ticket stamped upon leaving the park, you can return the next day for half the price. We had originally intended to do this, but after a full day in the scorching heat and having seen some of the most amazing things, we decided that one day was enough for us. The name Iguazú apparently comes from the indigenous Guaraní words; y (meaning water) and guasu (meaning big). I´m not entirely sure what I had expected the falls to be like, but they were absolutely incredible, and completely different to what I had imagined... The sheer size and power of the waterfalls was incredible, and there were just so many of them - just rows and rows and rows... They were simply magnificent, and there were rainbows leaping up in all directions. The park was a little touristy in places, but luckily we weren't there in high season so I am sure that made a difference to the number of people who were there sharing the experience with us... It was a very very hot day (I can´t imagine what it would be like there in summer) so we were forced to seek refuge in the shade whenever we could, but luckily many of the trails were actually in the shade of the jungle. There were a number of walks you could do within the park - each one leading you to a different lookout or view of one of the many waterfalls - views from above, from below, from alongside the falls... every possible angle you could imagine. Some actually took you so close to the falls that you ended up completely saturated by the spray (especially on the Brazilian side), which was very refreshing - as you can imagine. The map we had originally seen made the park and its trails look huge, however it was all perfectly manageable, even in the heat. A little train takes you (free of charge) between the various points in the park, and from there you wander around the trails at your own free will. There was only one part that we missed as we didn´t quite have enough time - an 8km trail to another waterfall and a place to swim, but I was certainly satisfied with everything else we had seen. There were numerous tours offered within the park - in particular boat tours which took you for a soaking under a couple of the waterfalls, an ecological boat tour, a jeep tour through the jungle, or a combination of these as well as others. I was a bit reluctant to hand over money for any of these as you could see so much by simply wandering around on foot, although Natalia did take a 12 minute launch trip and really enjoyed it. A free boat took you over to the island Isla San Martín where there were more trails with some amazing views. One view in particular was absolutely overwhelming, looking up to the powerful San Martín falls as the water plummetted down over lush greenery, and you could even feel the spray from quite far away when approaching them. That was certainly one of the highlights for me. After catching every possible view we could, we then returned back in the direction of the park entrance to check out a museum with information about the history of the falls, the area and the indigenous Guaraní, as well as the park´s flora and fauna. So that was very interesting, and a nice little break from the heat... We then set off for the big one - a view of the Garganta del Diablo (the devil´s throat) which is undoubtedly the main feature of the park. We deliberately left that part to the early evening on the recommendation of my guidebook, and it was definitely worth the wait. We took the free train back past the other trails, and then set off on a walk that led us over the river Iguazú past some great scenery. We then arrived at the main lookout where the views looking down and across to the Devil´s Throat and all it´s surrounding neighbours, were absolutely spectacular. There was so much water and so much spray that you could barely make out the river as the water thundered down into it from great heights, but the views of the mighty falls themselves were incredible and you could even spot the lookout on the Brazilian side in the distance. It really was amazing and we enjoyed those views for quite a while in the early evening sun before the peace was disturbed by a rather obnoxious tour group of young American teenagers... We stayed up there until we were told that we had to return for the park´s closure, and it was the perfect way to finish off the day.

So then after four nights in Puerto Iguazú, we headed for Foz do Iguaçu, a small city in Brazil (although much larger than Puerto Iguazú), right near the border with Argentina, which is the base for visiting the falls from the Brazilian side. Crossing the border was quick and easy, and once there we stored our luggage at the bus station before catching a local bus to the Falls. A visit to the Brazilian side didn´t seem to require nearly as much time, and it was quite different to what we had seen previously, although definitely worth doing to compliment what we had seen on the Argentinean side. Once inside the park, we got taken on a bus to the beginning of a trail from where a more panoramic view of the rows and rows of waterfalls could be seen from various openings in the foliage, as well as from a few lookouts... We then stepped onto a walkway which lead us right into the spray (which was great - the temperatures were even hotter than before), and the deafening sound of the water pounding down made it all the more real. From there an elevator took us up to a much higher lookout, which was the final part of our visit. As for the wildlife, we didn't actually spot as many exciting species as anticipated, but we did see a few cool things. Butterflies of all different colours, shapes and sizes were absolutely everywhere, especially on the Argentinean side - and very friendly little creatures by the way. From the train that took you between various points in that park, you would sometimes drive past hundreds and hundreds of butterflies, and when stopping to view the falls they would flutter around and settle on your limbs, head, bottom...and sometimes very reluctant to leave... Unfortunately, we didn't see any monkeys or toucans, which I suppose is understandable considering there are so many people entering the park everyday. Plenty of lizards were basking in the sun and then darting across the trails, but the most interesting animals were probably the coaties, which are funny looking things with a long tail and long nose. They are smart creatures, so carrying my water bottle in a plastic bag probably wasn't such a good idea when about five of them started chasing after me (they know that plastic bags usually carry food). They are known to bite, and some carry rabies, so that was a little scary, although also very entertaining for those around me. I regret not somehow getting a video of it... We also saw a small caiman which was quite cool (please correct me if I've spelt that wrong).

So after visiting the Brazilian side, we then began our travelling in Brazil with an overnight bus ride to Florianópolis. It was a long one, and unfortunately we didn't see any scenery during the night (obviously), but the last few

hours of the trip were in daylight and my first glimpses of Brazil were looking pretty interesting and beautiful. We finally arrived and sorted out our accomodation and are having a fantastic time but I will have to leave that till the next blog, as the beach awaits...!!

Santiago...

2007-03-27T15:35:00.000-07:00

Some Reflections on Chile´s Capital...
So before arriving in Santiago I had heard some very mixed opinions about the city.... and most of them (although not all of them) were verging on the negative... Both tourists and locals (or "santiaguinos" being the term commonly used here for someone who lives in Santiago) had given me the impression that this city was polluted and nothing special. However, I´ve now spent several weeks here and am having a great time. I´ve found that while Santiago is no oil painting, there is definitely still some beauty to be found if you look for it... Santiago is surrounded by mountains - a unique and amazing setting. Those to the east of the city belong to the famous Cordillera de los Andes which runs from Punta Arenas in the very south of Chile, right up to Venezuela in the north of South America. However, you can´t actually see the mountains most of time. Unfortunately, being surrounded by mountains means that Santiago is also heavily polluted (although this is something you notice more when looking down over the city). The pollution is apparently worse in winter, and I was absolutely astounded to hear the other day that recent levels had been particularly low....!!! You can view the city from above by ascending many of the hills located in and around the city (in particular Cerro San Cristobal which is probably the most visited one with the virgen at the top), also Cerro Santa Lucía (a lot smaller but in the centre of town), however you are seldom lucky enough to actually see the entire city properly because of the smog. It really is a shame. Every time it rains though (which isn´t often, well at least not since I´ve been here) the smog clears up for a bit, as well as leaving snow on the mountains, so that´s when you need to get your camera out and race up one of those hills! Santiago is also a concrete jungle... While certain areas are very green (like neighbourhoods such as Providencia, Vitacura, and Las Condes), it is obvious that Santiago lacks the architectural beauty of cities like Buenos Aires for example. The brown and rather unsightly man-made river Mapocho running through the city isn´t particularly attractive either, although I have heard recently that they do intend to clean it up as well as make it navigable within the next year and a half... There are however still plenty of interesting historic buildings, monuments, churches and museums to visit (which are particularly beautiful at night when very tastefully lit up), like the Casa Colorada (which is also the Museum of Santiago), the Palacio de la Moneda (the Presidential Palace), the Cathedral, the national library, La Chascona (another house of the famous Chilean poet Pablo Neruda), a museum housing pre-colombian art, and much more. There are also a few parks here and there, as well as a modern sculpture park next to the river. Certain areas such as the colourful Bellavista (where there are numerous bars, cafés, restaurants and nightclubs) Barrio Brasil and Concha y Toro are also pleasant for wandering around, particularly for their older buildings. Various pedestrian-only streets like the Paseo Ahumada running off Santiago´s main avenue La Alameda (also known as Avenida Libertador General Bernardo O´Higgins) are very lively, particularly during the day, and bustling with people selling all sorts of things (often ilegally and therefore making a rapid escape whenever the police pass by), as well as buskers and artists, or comedians ranting away in heavy Chilean slang to the numerous passers-by who have stopped to listen to them. These streets all meet up at the Plaza de Armas, Santiago´s main square, which is also bustling with artists and comedians, and which is surrounded by older buildings such as the Cathedral. So there is plenty to do in Santiago, and the city´s location means that you are never more than an hour or two away from some incredible places, like the Cordillera de los Andes, Valparaíso, or even Mendoza in Argentina (I haven´t actually made it to Mendoza yet but I do plan to get there before leaving South America!). The fact that I have a number of Chilean friends living here (most of whom I met in NZ) has also kept me very busy and has certainly contributed to a very enjoyable experience in Chile´s capital. I sort of feel at home here now, but like all of these places I´ve been to, I will have to leave at some point!

Sophs and I have been staying with my friend Vero in her lovely house in the rather affluent neighbourhood of Providencia. Almost every house in this area is surrounded by barbed wire (or otherwise) fences, with tall gates, and secured by alarm systems. In this particular house they even set the house alarm at night (downstairs) which actually went off the other night, but I swear it had nothing to do with me sleepwalking... (I´m told however that Santiago is actually the safest capital city in South America, mainly due to the non-existence of kidnappings like in other countries...) The house´s garden is amazing - greenery hanging in all directions, and a secret haven away from the city´s smog. Vero´s parents have been wonderful to us and like many true South Americans they are incredibly affectionate and generous people. They have certainly become a family away from home and leaving is going to be difficult... Lunch at Vero´s is a daily treat. I always try and revolve my day around it... Vero´s father returns from work to join us, and seated outside on the sunny patio we enjoy Nacho´s amazing three course and healthy meals, accompanied by wine and great conversations (Nacho is the adorable live-in cook/house keeper). The pet tortoise also usually appears by this stage. Nacho has treated us to some typical and delicious Chilean dishes, like Humitas and Cazuela. Providencia is a nice area for wandering around, and the house is only a few blocks away from Cerro San Cristobal, so most mornings I´ve headed up there for a walk or run. There have only been two days though where the city´s contamination has cleared up enough for me to get a decent glance down over the whole city... So with Vero´s house and family as my base in Santiago, I´ve just been getting to know the city at a casual pace and pretending not to be a tourist, as well as spending lots of time with old friends (luckily most of my Santiago friends all know each other which facilitates the organization of my social engagements!!). Accompanying Vero on her various errands has been a great way of seeing Santiago´s different neighbourhoods from a car window - which I wouldn´t have seen otherwise, and being driven up to various viewpoints on the city´s edges has also been a great way of viewing the city. However, while being driven around the place has been great, I certainly couldn´t drive a car in Santiago myself - it´s hair-raising enough just being a passenger! The drivers are very impatient here (like in most big cities I suppose). Every time you stop at a set of traffic lights, you are soon pounced on by a juggler, an acrobat, or somebody trying to sell things or simply asking for money... Not to mention our dear little illegal "parking attendants" whom we simply cannot live without... What else have I been up to... I´ve been out for coffee a couple of times although finding a nice, decent cup of coffee here in this country has usually only led to frustration. It seems that Chileans seem to prefer instant coffee... My experiences have ranged from luke warm black instant coffee served on a long-distance bus trip with what tasted like about seven teaspoons of sugar, to a "cappuchino" with a huge mound of whipped cream from one of those spray cans. I´ve now learnt to ask for a cortado which usually ressembles a flat white, and to stick to decent looking cafés, preferably in big cities... In the evenings I´ve usually ended up at various friends´ houses for drinks, or out for a quick bite to eat, or to listen to live music. Mauricio, Pilo, Hector, Italo, Pancho, Sebastian and Marisol are some the friends I´ve met up with - some of you will be interested to know... Among those are a couple of contacts I had been put in touch with who have been lovely enough to take some time out to show me around a bit. I also got my camera fixed which I´m very pleased about. I´ve been giving Vero English lessons as often as possible too which has been pretty fun. I had intended to teach myself Portuguese over these last few weeks, but that somehow hasn´t eventuated due to my lack of diligence... I shall just have to give it a good crack once I´m in Brazil, which is only a week or so away... Other than that, I´ve been carefully navigating Santiago´s new and notorious transport system - Transantiago. It isn´t really worth bringing this up in conversation with any local, as everybody is just so annoyed about it. A new system was implemented in February (we learnt about it on the news long before even arriving in Santiago) and it has pretty much just been one big disaster. The metro system itself is good in that it´s very simple to use, but that isn´t the part that has changed so much. The whole bus timetable and routes have been changed, as well as a reduction in the number of buses on the roads, along with other changes. So this results in queues on the street (Santiaguinos are very good at making queues, it´s quite funny) which can sometimes be a couple of hundred metres long - and I am not exaggerating!! As a result, even more people are taking the metro and the whole system collapses, as there are just too many people at certain hours of the day. So Transantiago has recently been the source of much frustration, violence, controversy and political debate. Transantiago also became an excuse for more violence on Chile´s annual Día del Combatiente - a day which involves violence and protests in bitter memory of the country´s past military dictatorship. I didn´t physically see anything on that particular day (I wasn´t actually allowed to leave the house) but it was definitely happening.

My first South American Wedding!! (and no, it wasn´t my own...!!)
One evening a few of us got together at a house for drinks and something to eat... All was going well, however after a few piscolas it was somehow decided that I would accompany Cristobal, a friend of a friend, to his cousin´s wedding... I was struggling considerably with the idea of attending the wedding of someone I had never even met before, but after repeated explanations from my friends Vero and Andrés (Andrés by the way, is Vero´s boyfriend and one of my closest South American friends - I met him in NZ), I was reassured that in Chile it was perfectly acceptable to invite a friend that wasn´t your partner, regardless of whether they knew the bride and groom or not - and that it was simply more fun for the invited guest as well as common practice to take someone along rather than go alone. I was also assured that a Chilean wedding was the best night out ever. So, after making Cristobal promise to agree that I wasn´t his girlfriend and never would be, I agreed to go... I had nothing to wear of course, but the next day after asking Vero; Am I really going to a Chilean wedding tomorrow?!?! she promptly initiated a sesión de niñas in her bedroom. Numerous outfits were tried on (Vero and Andrés were also going to a different wedding the next day) and an appropriate combination was finally chosen. I actually thought I scrubbed up quite nicely considering my current travel wardrobe contains little more than Thai fisherman´s pants, faded singlets, and smelly jandals.... So on the Saturday I was picked up by Cristobal at 8.30 in the evening (can you imagine a NZ wedding ceremony starting at 9pm?!). I was raced to the gate by Vero´s father who with a twinkle in his eye made Cristobal promise to look after me... Had Vero been there, I´m sure her father would have received a right telling off, but it was actually kind of sweet... The ceremony was lovely, however I must confess I did have some difficulty keeping up with the catholicisms... I decided not to attempt them for fear of drawing attention to myself, and simply stood up and sat down (there was a lot of that) when everybody else did... We then drove to the wedding reception which was held at the Casona de las Condes, a huge old house (well, it was more like a castle) now used for weddings and other special occasions. It was obviously dark by this stage but this ancient building and its gardens were so beautifully lit up that it was like arriving at a palace... I have worked at many weddings, and this was certainly the largest, most extravagant, most elegant one that I have ever seen. Pity I don´t have any photos, but I really didn´t feel like being a tourist and taking my camera along given that I didn´t even know whose wedding I was attending!!) After being greeted with cocktails I was introduced to Cristobal´s family who I´m positive were all assuming they were meeting his new girlfriend - this was however not the case. As we sat down we were then greeted by a delicious seafood tasting platter while more finger food was passed around... This was followed by an entrée, a main course, dessert, as well as an elegant dessert buffet later on (which, by the way, you´ll be astounded to know I didn´t even touch - I was so full). There were no formalities (as in speeches) however the bride and groom did manage to somehow have photos taken with every single table (there were around 400 guests at this wedding by the way). It took much convincing for me to realize that this couple were not actually famous - their photographers ressembled the paparazzi with all their sizeable equipment and entourage of assistants who chased the bride, groom and guests around all night. After the meal, everybody moved towards the dance floor for the couple´s first dance (typically a walz in Chile) and then the party began... Two large bars had been set up near the dance floor and we were there dancing until about 6am. So it turned out to be a great night out and I felt very priviledged to have been "invited..."

Escaping the city...

Vero and Andrés have also been kind enough to invite me and Sophs along on their regular expeditions away from the city. As you already know from my last blog entry, we spent our first weekend in Valparaíso and Viña del Mar with Vero at her holiday appartment. Then a few days later, Andrés took a day off work to drive us towards the Cordillera de los Andes which was just stunning. We didn´t spot any condors but the scenery was espectacular, and the fact that no tours go anywhere near there definitely added to its beauty. Then once Sophs returned from a week up north, we returned to Viña again for another three nights, this time with Andrés too. Leaving Santiago on this particular trip was beautiful with the sun setting over the mountains. Arriving at the appartment in Viña to the power having been cut off meant having to relieve the fridge of quite a lot of unsalvageable food, however we soon cleaned up the mess and carried on with things. We had a quiet first night at the appartment watching Chilean tennis player Ríos beat Agassi, accompanied by a few piscolas. The next day we headed for the countryside to Vero´s parents´other holiday home not to far from Viña. We had planned to take the coastal route and check out Laguna Verde, but access to this road was cut off due to roadworks. Their house in the country was just gorgeous, and I can´t really describe how calm and quiet the setting was. I suggested I pinch the current caretaker´s job and live/work there myself!! It was a beautiful, warm, sunny day and there we met the vet who had come to check up on one of the horses that had been ill for quite some time. I managed to sneak a ride on one of the other horses which was great fun, while Sophs quietly fell in love with the gorgeous vet, and I later noticed that while she had been pretending to take photos of me on horseback, she had somehow "accidently" slipped in a few shots of him too!! It was quite amusing. The house is located near a little village called Algarrobo, so we also drove there for a delicious sushi lunch, followed by ice-cream and an afternoon stroll along the beach. We then returned to Viña in the evening although we were all too tired to do anything else. The next day we had planned to return to Santiago, but decided to stay another night instead. Another beautiful sunny day, we headed for Concón by car, and stopped in a seaside town called Cochoa for a delicious seafood lunch in a restaurant there. The food was absolutely exquisite. We were all so full that we didn´t end up leaving the restaurant until the early evening. Back in Viña we enjoyed some drinks on the balcony, taking in the last of the sunset, and then Pancho joined us (another dear Chilean friend who I had met in NZ). So it turned into a bit of a late night, but we did nevertheless make it back to Santiago the next morning in time for Andrés to arrive at work, even if he was a couple of hours late.

So I am now enjoying my last few days in Santiago. Sophs left for Argentina a couple of days ago, so after three wonderful and highly amusing months travelling together we have now separated since from now on we have quite different travel plans. About a week ago I moved out of Vero´s house to join Pato, Ortega and Heidi (friends from Puerto Natales) in an appartment in town. Heidi is American but has lived in Chile for several years now, and the two boys are Chileans who I met down in Torres del Paine. Although a little crazy, Heidi is great value, and it turns out she loves dancing salsa. So...... we´ve been frequenting a particular salsateca (there are several of these in Santiago) and have been having a ball of a time. We usually leave the boys behind (Chileans, in general, aren´t the naturally salsa-dancing types) although we have convinced them to join us once or twice. We are now regulars at Papagayo´s Club where the staff all know us (including, unfortunately, the annoying sleazy Ecuadorian bartender) and where we get pulled onto the dance floor for virtually every song by the regulars that go... So that´s been a lot of fun, and given that we never seem to leave until about 5am, my salsa is apparently (believe it or not) improving quite rapidly. It´s been good living in a different part of the city too, only a few blocks away from the city´s centre. For Easter I was invited out to Pato´s aunt´s place in the suburb of Peñalolén (close to the Cordillera - great views at sunset when returning to the city) for a delicious seafood lunch. Then on the Saturday I was dragged to Fantasilandia - a theme park. Now, I´m no longer really interested in such juvenile activities but those of you who know Pato would have already guessed that it was him that dragged me there... I must admit however, the last ride was amazing ("Xtreme Fall" I think it was called), as we were left hanging at the top of this very tall pole for about 15 seconds with views of the whole of Santiago and the surrounding mountains which were pink under the setting sun. I contemplated getting my camera out, but before I could even decide that it wasn´t worth having another broken LCD screen I promptly lost my stommach (and voice from screaming) as we were dropped straight to the ground. I have to say, Fantasilandia was definitely worth it simply for that view... I am now trying to think what else we have been up to... Yesterday we moved house again as the appartment was only rented for one week, so the four of us are now staying in the hostel La Casa Roja which is an enormous old building run by an Australian. Today I returned to Vero´s house for another delicious lunch and to say goodbye to her family. On Friday I am heading for Brazil (by bus) via Córdoba in Argentina where I will be meeting up with Natalia (whom a few of you already know) to travel around Brazil together for a bit.

So that´s about it for now in Santiago...

My next update will probably include the Iguazu Falls...

Valparaíso...

2007-03-22T09:42:00.000-07:00

I think I have discovered one of my new favourite places in the world - Valparaíso. Vero´s parents have a holiday apartment in Viña del Mar, one of Valparaíso´s neighbouring beachside resorts about 120km from Santiago, so on Friday afternoon we escaped Chile´s capital and headed for the beach. On the way we passed a number of vineyards and as we arrived we caught a great view over to our left over the hills of Valparaíso - leading down towards the sparkling ocean and port. Valparaíso (named "Valpo" for short) is officially Chile´s cultural capital, and it certainly deserves this title. Rich in history since colonial times, its bustling port remains one of the most important in South America. Most of the city´s charm lies in the architecture. Around forty cerros (hills) flow down towards the sea, and every single one of them is absolutely covered (and in no orderly fashion whatsoever) with houses - mostly colourful little wooden and corrugated iron shacks, and often perched precariously on the edge of a hill - some looking as if they could tumble down at any moment. Even where you might think there couldn´t possibly be a house, there is one. I don´t think I have ever seen such a huge concentration of character in one city. It was so beautiful - a photographer´s dream I´m sure. To ascend these hills you either get yourself up one of the steep, narrow, cobbled streets, up a long row of steps, or else pay a small amount of money to take a ride in one of the city´s 15 ancient ascensores (funiculars) which have been around since the 1880s. (If you´ve seen the film The Motorcycle Diaries you may remember Che Guevara and his friend Alberto riding up one of these during their visit to Valparaíso). The Footprint South American Handbook maintains that "little of the city´s colonial past survived the pirates, tempests, fires and earthquakes of the period," and although most of the historic buildings were apparently built after a major earthquake in 1906, a number of the majestic 19th century buldings still remain in an area known as El Plan - the lower (and flatter) sector of the city, located closer to the port. This elegant architecture can be spotted from one of the many cerros, but wandering aimlessly up and around any of these slopey areas is just as intriguing, if not more so, and there is simply no end to the fascinating collection of little houses you keep discovering along the way. I could easily spend days, weeks, even months exploring this place. So we spent the whole of Saturday in Valparaíso. (Viña del Mar, where we were staying, doesn´t have nearly as much character - very modern, commercial and built up with tall apartments and nightmare traffic). In Valparaíso we first found the beautiful old building where El Mercurio de Valparaíso used to be printed - a newspaper dating back to 1827 and the world´s oldest Spanish language newspaper still in publication. We then had our first "ascensor experience" which was pretty fun, and once at the top we began wandering about only a small corner of the city´s rabbit warren of quaint windy streets. On a friend´s recommendation, we then visited the old prison which has now been turned into a Parque Cultural. Built around 1880, this prison is full of history and accounts of the thousands of prisoners who were detained there - including many political prisoners. A year after its closure in 1999, it was turned into a cultural site with various little theatre and literary studios created amongst the surrounding ruins. It is only fitting that those now working there were once prisoners, and we met two of them. Unfortunately we couldn´t enter the actual building due to it being set on fire the year before, but even just the area surrounding it was interesting and the young teenagers playing football right in front of the prison itself created a lively atmosphere. Hundreds of murals surrounded the dry dirt area near the prison which made for some interesting exploring. A friend of mine, Natalia, had painted one of Rangitoto Island, NZ, with a couple of her friends whilst studying in Valparaíso in January, so I soon spotted that one - a nice little NZ touch to add to a perfect day. We then saw an exhibition with information, old black and white photos, quotes, newspaper articles and various accounts of prison life. It was very very interesting and there we met the rather flamboyant yet friendly Raúl Guzmán (nick-named Papito) an ex-prisoner. Papito was imprisoned in Perú, Argentina, Uruguay, Brazil and Bolivia (all for theft) before arriving at this particular prison in 1995. He now takes guided tours, is heavily involved in theatre, and has been rennovating what used to be his own prison cell. He was very personable and certainly very interesting to talk to, although as we were leaving, another man (also an ex-prisoner) pulled us aside to tell us how he felt about Papito - that he was "false" and always seeking attention. He thought that Papito "commercialized" the prison´s history to make money.... In any case, I thought it was fascinating...

"La memoria a veces está en la piedra y a veces en el árbol, habita espacios sutiles en los que crecen sueños e ilusiones. La memoria es la palabra y el silencio es fuerza que construye y cimiento que sustenta. Sin memoria todo empezará desde cero y seríamos simplemente el instante que somos. El presente es la piel, el pasado habita en ella y el futuro la rodea. La piel no puede vivir sin el pasado que en ella existe, que dentro de ella crece y nos hace ver el futuro de formas diferentes. Somos memoria y nada somos sin ella..."

"Aquí la pérfida vida de malas adanzas me entregó tu silencio. Aquí vivió el alma mía triste, acongujada zurciendo mis recuerdos..."

"De mis amigos quisiera que fueran mis enemigos para que así recuerden que en esta celda yo vivo bajo un sol tibio y opaco y una luna entristecida en amarg os anocheceres al ver tanta hipocresía." A. Pezos.

We then wandered around a bit more before descending another ascensor in search of lunch. Vero took us to one of her favourite restaurants, J. Cruz, where you sit on long tables surrounded by walls covered with various collections of bits and bobs. There they only serve two dishes, one of which is apparently very typical of the area, Chorrillana - potato fries, fried onion, egg and beef. Very greasy, but good. It was then time to check out La Sebastiana - the house of a Pablo Neruda, a famous Chilean poet. I personally didn´t know much about him before visiting the house, but have since learnt that he led a pretty interesting life, including being awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1971. I have since grown quite an interest in learning more about him and his poetry. I´m sure a few of you would have already studied his work...? The house was great. (Well I could certainly live there...) It´s a colorful mixture of various styles, and he obviously loved the ocean, and loved collecting things... This tall house is perched on the top of a hill in Cerro Bellavista with superb views of the sea. I particularly liked a quote of his (framed in the living room) that talked about the Pacific Ocean being so big that nothing could be done with it apart from it being placed right in front of his window... We then headed down to the port and took a boat tour. As we arrived we were promptly accosted by various locals competing for our business. We ended up on a boat that took us for a guided (in Spanish) half-hour tour around the port - past various boats and ships, including two little old fishing boats (now inhabited by about a dozen lazy sealions), and past the beautiful sailboat La Esmeralda, which takes young males on board to perfect their skills after finishing their studies at navy school. So that was fun. We then headed back to Viña del Mar in the evening - exhausted. Didn´t quite make it to any of the great bars in Valparaíso that I had been recommended, but I´m sure that can wait till next time. Certain areas in Valparaíso should also apparently be avoided at night. Unfortunately, the weather wasn´t as good the next day. We had intended to spend some time at the beach, or even drive back into the countryside where Vero´s family has another holiday house. Instead, we ventured back into Valparaíso (very addictive place). We first went in search of the Ascensor Polanco, one mentioned in the guidebook as being a bit different to the others (ie. it has two parts - the first being a horizontal tunnel and the second being a completely vertical ascent). However, and in true guidebook fashion, this particular tunnel had been closed since November last year, so we climbed some steps instead and wandered around up top. A friendly local hanging her washing out advised us to watch out for our camera in that area, so we took her advice and decided not to wander around that particular area for too long. We then drove to another cerro which we had visited briefly when we first arrived in Valparaíso. There we walked around and took some photos. We then drove around some more, casually navigating the narrow streets before attempting a seafood lunch at a seaside restaurant. Whilst parking we were soon approached by not one but three ("not really legal") parking attendants. (They are everywhere around here, they help you find a park, "guide" you into the space, "watch over" your car whilst you are absent and then accept your choice of coinage when you return to your car and drive away. Actually quite a good system. I suggested to Sophs that we introduce it in NZ - much cheaper than paying $4.00 per hour to park in Auckland!!). So we first had those three competing over us and then were suddenly accosted by a number of different restaurant touts - also competing for our business; "This restaurant is the most typical in Valparaíso..." or "This one offers discounts for chiquillas" (girls) etc. etc. It was highly entertaining, but we managed to shake them off eventually by actually entering a restaurant, and ate some seafood. I wouldn´t rave about my paila marina personally - I don´t think anything will ever beat the one I had cooked for me down south, but the others really enjoyed their fish dishes so that was cool. We then went walking by the water and spotted a group of pelicans - my first sighting ever since reading a chilren´s book about a pelican as a child - I was most disappointed that their beaks weren´t full of fish though! We then attempted visiting a naval ship... Not only did visitors need their national ID to be let on, foreign visitors were also restricted. After a bit of coaxing on Vero´s part, the rather handsome marinero finally let us on provided that we (and especially Sophs) did not open our mouths once on the ship (so as not to be noticed). Sophs felt particularly naughty given that her father was formally a captain in the British Navy...! We were both a bit paranoid but it was amusing more than anything. As we were led around the boat on an informal guided tour, I had to keep whispering to Sophs to tell her in which direction she should be looking to at least pretend that she could understand what the guy was referring to... It was great fun. We then drove back in the direction of Viña, but even further this time to a beach called Reñaca which is apparently crowded in summer, especially with Argentinean tourists. There we enjoyed an ice-cream on the beach as the sun was about to set, before returning to the apartment to tidy up. Whilst cleaning we enjoyed the gorgeous pink sky from the apartment window. It was dark by the time we left for Santiago, so looking back over Valparaíso was pretty magical - a sparkling array of tiny city lights scattered over the hills.... It was back to Santiago then, but after a great weekend in "Valpo." Can´t wait to return...

Volcanic Activity in Pucón...

2007-03-14T19:13:00.000-07:00

Well we finally managed to leave Lago Ranco and move on to Pucón (not that anything was physically stopping us from leaving – except a desire to stay there forever!) Our taxi ride from the house to Futrono - where we needed to catch our first bus - was interesting... The driver first reversed straight into a tree, and then later (and just as Sophs jokingly asked: “How´s your whiplash?”) almost sent us flying as he swerved to avoid hitting a chicken that was casually wandering across the road. He was very proud to have saved the little feathered creature… Alas, we made it safely despite taxis never having seatbelts in the back seats. About four hours and two buses later, we arrived in Pucón. We were a bit nervous about our sleeping arrangements, since all the hostels we looked up on the internet were a little on the expensive side and campsites appeared to be located quite far away from the city centre, so we had nothing booked and decided to procrastinate by dealing with it when we arrived. Only too happy to escape the most repugnant stench I have ever inhaled (our seats on the bus were right in front of one of South America´s most toxic toilets), we fled from the bus as soon as it stopped and were greeted by a lovely lady at the bus station who offered us some cheap accommodation in her family-run hostel...

Despite being a major tourist centre, we found that Pucón was definitely worth the visit even if the weather didn´t always cooperate… Although situated on the shores of Lago Villarrica, the main attraction was the magnificent Volcán Villarrica (2,840m) and as long as the cloud didn´t interfere, smoke could often be seen billowing out the top of this snow-capped active volcano, 26km away. We had only intended to stay a night or two, but poor visibility of the volcano would have left us disappointed to leave without seeing it at all ( it only appeared from behind the clouds on two of the six days that we were there). There was plenty to do in and around Pucón. La Poza was one of the beaches – I wouldn´t really call it a beach, but it was a pleasant little spot for relaxing with the odd boat in sight, a colorful garden, and great views of the volcano. In the other direction, Playa Grande was the other more popular beach (although we were lucky to have missed the crowds due to summer´s high season being over). The black volcanic sand warmed up very quickly in the afternoon sun. On our first full day there we hired mountain bikes and went for a huge ride. We were given a map with some suggested routes, but it was very inaccurate. Getting lost however, meant talking to some interesting locals so it only added to the experience. The weather wasn´t great – very misty and cloudy, so visibility of Villarrica and other surrounding volcanoes was poor, but I still had a great time and really enjoyed the exercise. After crossing a large bridge, we came across an indigenous Mapuche community/market, where various culinary delights and other bits and pieces are usually sold by Mapuche artesans (although only in high season). So unfortunately it was all closed up, apart from one little hut where a lovely old woman offered us several rounds of mate. After a great chat, we sat in her cosy little place for a while before deciding that we hadn´t actually deserved that break considering we had only been riding for about half an hour! (we covered over 40km that day). So with bellies filled with mate, we set off again - stopping every so often to sample the blackberries growing abundantly on the side of the road. We then came across two farmers who were trying to veer their oxen in the right direction. They were more than happy to stop for a chat, even if it meant wrestling with their cattle at one stage. We had to ask another farmer for directions when we couldn´t find the Ojos del Caburgua (waterfalls and a beautiful blue lake hidden in a forest). He was fascinated by us and our bikes and most disappointed that we couldn´t spare the whole day to chat… After riding to and fro several times, and stopping at a house to ask for more directions, we finally arrived at the falls where we stopped for lunch. Luckily, the large tour group of Americans soon left us in peace and quiet. We then continued on to Lago Caburgua, although just as we arrived the rain set in, so we didn´t end up seeing the "precious" white sand beach (all the neighbouring beaches have black volcanic sand). We then began the 22km ride home, looking forward to getting our aching behinds straight into a hot shower. Being a volcanic area, there were plenty of thermal pools around (although not in Pucón itself), so visiting one of them was obligatory. The owner of our hostel recommended Los Pozones, which she claimed had the most natural atmosphere out of all of them as well as being reasonably priced. So we spent a nice afternoon there with Robyn and Dan, our newly befriended Australian couple staying at the same hostel as us. There we relaxed in several pools of varying temperatures - it was a bit like sitting in giant rockpools. It was a lovely natural setting - alongside a river, nestled between some hills and there was hardly anybody else there. Little green lizards kept darting around the rocks and stopping every so often to bask in the sun (or pose for my photos - most of which were unsuccessful)... As we left the thermal pools that evening the sky was clear and it was finally obvious that good weather was on its way. Poor Dan and Robyn had spent nine days in Pucón waiting for the weather to clear up in order to climb the volcano. Sophs was also keen to do the tour (you can´t really go up there without paying for a tour guide and equipment unless you can prove that you are a mountain climber). Many fingers were crossed that night, and sure enough the weather continued to behave itself and we woke up to a brillant morning the next day. The volcano looked stunning - smoking away. The tour was a bit too expensive for me, but I had my own little plan for the day and was so happy that the others could finally turn up to the tour operator at 7.30am without being turned back like every other morning that week... As the others headed off for their long-awaited ascent, I made the most of this early start (I usually struggle in the mornings) and wandered down to both of Pucón´s beaches to catch early morning views of the volcano and its neighbouring hills. Oh how a real coffee would have been the perfect accompaniment to this early morning stroll... I then hired a mountain bike and after recovering from being bitten on the arm by a little boy (the son of the lady who was hiring out mountain bikes), I had the most incredible day. I saw some of the most amazing scenery ever, and stumbled across paradise on more than one occasion. One of the best things about this seven hour adventure was that I didn´t see a soul, although I did get chased by a dog at one point after mistakingly cycling up a track that led to a house. I managed not to fall off my bike even once, although I did almost fall backwards off a bridge whilst taking a photo... I had to dodge hundreds of those same green lizards as they fled from the sunny track. Firstly I crossed the bridge we had ridden over a few days before, except this time the views from either side weren´t obscured by cloud, and I could make out the surrounding volcanoes. I then headed in the opposite direction in search of an area that had been recommended to me by the son of the hostel owner. It was a great workout - plenty of hills, which I took great satisfaction in rocketing back down again. I rode through forests, past rivers, through streams, and weaved about the area´s volcanoes and hills - the scenery was just stunning. I then returned to the main road and headed back towards Pucón, heading back over that same bridge in a direction that hadn´t really been pointed out as somewhere to visit on the map. Before continuing however, I popped in to visit the same old lady - who offered me a cup of tea and sold me some home-made bread. I then continued along a route through farmland and alongside the river Trancura - nothing but more beauty. Again, I didn´t come across anybody, apart from a few locals collecting blackberries and a couple of farmers riding a horse and cart. Every time I looked back over my shoulder there was a different view of Villarrica. After continuing as far as possible, I crossed a swing bridge and discovered a gorgeous little paradise which I´m positive hardly anyone knows about, where the Río Trancura joins Lago Villarrica. It was the perfect tranquil setting for gazing in awe at Villarrica and her reflections in the still water. I then started to head back in the direction of Pucón, abandoning the bike first though to follow a little trail on foot through a forest to reach a waterfall. Obviously not a frequently visited spot since the path had become quite overgrown. At one point I even required the assistance of a hanging bamboo root to "abseil" a couple of metres back down the side of a steep tricky bit. As I approached the waterfall I was just thinking to myself how no one would ever be able to find me if something happened to me when I slipped over backwards on a mossy rock... No harm done - just a wet behind... It was then time to return (reluctantly) to Pucón. I had been running on adreneline all day from sheer excitement over all the beautiful things I´d seen, that the hours had passed so quickly and I realized that I couldn´t stay out there forever. I then had to try and ignore the usual piropos (compliments) showered upon me by most of the local male passers-by on the way back - the usual; linda... lola... mi reina... etc. etc. blah blah blah. So predictable and very much used to it by now. Latinos!! (I´m sure most foreign females do actually feel incredibly flattered by all this). I held onto the bike for as long as possible after returning (I had until 9pm to return it) to catch sunset on the beach later on. On my return I was met by the others - buzzing from their climb up the volcano - Sophs was bruised from top to toe having had a wee "accident" whilst tobogganing back down the volcano...(yes that is the official way to get back down again). So we were now all able to leave Pucón on a good vibe and satisfied. The next day, we caught a bus to Temuco and spent the afternoon there before catching a night bus to Santiago. Although Temuco seemed lacking in beauty and character, there were various points of interest (most relating to the Mapuche) that interested me enough to make a stop there on the way. We first went to the huge feria (market) where you are supposed to spot Mapuche women in costume, and we did see a few. I´m sure pick-pocketing is rife in that area - so we clung on to our bags and also managed to cause quite a stir whilst wandering past the hundreds of fruit and veg stalls - men calling out in all directions, and everyone trying to fight for our purchases. When I finally bought some apples, I wasn´t even allowed to choose them but was told that they were all perfect, they just needed a shine... It was highly amusing. We then headed for the Museo Regional de la Araucanía which apparently features a lot on the history and traditions of the Mapuche, but unfortunately it was closed for refurbishment. I was particularly disappointed. We arrived in Santiago the next morning and were met by Vero, a Chilean friend of mine. We are now staying in her lovely house in the suburb of Providencia, and have just spent an amazing weekend out of town in Valparaíso. An update will follow soon....

Chilling at Lago Ranco...

2007-03-07T06:23:00.000-08:00

We´ve spent the last seven days in Chile´s Lake District, relaxing in a lovely house located on the Northern shores of Lago Ranco. (It´s hard to believe that just over a week ago we were stranded with stomach bugs in Patagonia´s desert...) We finally arrived at Lago Ranco starting with a five-hour bus trip from Bariloche (most of the journey was dedicated to baggage checks and other formalities when crossing the border). After arriving in Chile, there was an immediate local feel to the bus stations which were so much more atmospheric than Bariloche´s impersonal touristy feel (personal opinion, although I know a few other people who share the same view)... After arriving at Osorno we took a small bus to a village called Paillaco. We then caught another bus and were met by Rosario, the darling mother of my Chilean friend Tomas whom I had first met a couple of years ago in New Zealand. We were greeted at the house by more of Tomas´family who had spent the whole month at the house (but who all live in Santiago) - his father, sister, brothers in-law, and a handful of delightful nieces and nephews. We were first offered tea and coffee, then later wine and nibbles followed by a meal. Being waited on hand and foot by maids reminded me a bit of catering work, especially at the dinner table - although on the receiving end for a change! It was certainly a welcome contrast to having slept in a tent for the past seven weeks! Unfortunately, we arrived the day before the family were due to return to Santiago, and they were particularly disappointed that we couldn´t get there earlier - to be shown around the area and go water-skiing etc... We were however very lucky to be offered the house for a few days. This family have been so lovely and generous to us, it´s amazing. We had considerable trouble convincing Rosario that it wasn´t necessary for a maid to stay and cook for us... They even left us food and wine, ignoring all of our protests. There are three houses on the property, leading down to a private beach and jetty, and all watched over by a caretaker who lives in a little house a few metres up the drive (and whose wife bakes fresh bread on request...) We only really had two days of decent warm weather, but managed to make the most of the lake all the same - taking the kayak out, swimming, sunbathing, going for walks and just relaxing in general. Most evenings were spent snuggled up in front of the fireplace. The views out to the left of the lake were particularly beautiful - a very intriguing set of misty mountains, and it was very peaceful spending time down by the lake on those evenings when the water was dead calm as the sun lowered. The nearest town was Futrono, a quaint little place about 10km away. Every few days we emerged from our hideaway and ventured in by taxi to use the internet or buy groceries. Sometimes we would catch a glimpse of the occasional guacho on horseback - one particularly amusing sight was a gaucho answering his cellphone whilst riding... Classic. The family´s taxi driver took us on a bit of a tour around the lake and it was interesting to see more of the area. The lake itself is really big, and there are several little islands in the middle. We were planning to visit one island in particular, where an indigenous community apparently lives, however the tourist boat crossings had unfortunately finished for the season and we were advised not to go there alone as two females due to pick-pocketing incidents in the past...

VALDIVIA

From Futrono we caught a bus to Valdivia for a day trip. This University city was one of the most important centres of Spanish colonial control over Chile. We first wandered along a walkway that followed the river around towards a great riverside market - selling fruit, vegetables and all kinds of seafood. It had a very local touch, and amongst the racket of the vendors calling out to advertise their goods the most amusing part would have to be the sealions that were all lined up along the dock behind the market waiting for the fish heads and scraps to be thrown to them... A very entertaining site - perhaps even more so when I myself almost got accidently clobbered by a fish head as I clambered behind the stalls for a closer photo shot... After wandering around town for a bit, we then caught a bus to Niebla, one of the many coastal villages that can be visited from Valdivia. There we wandered along a lovely beach, and it was a beautiful day for it. Sinking our toes into the warm black sand was very liberating for what was quite possibly our first ocean experience since arriving in South America. We then walked up to the Castillo de Niebla, an old fortification where a series of canons pointed out to sea and where we learnt a little more about the history of the area. We passed a number of cute little bays dotted with colorful fishing boats on the way back to Valdivia which made for some nice bus window viewing. Getting a bus back from Valdivia to Futrono turned out to be much more difficult than anticipated. Although regular, the buses were absolutely packed full and as soon as one arrived, a very pushy swarm of people would suddenly emerge from nowhere. We had to wait patiently for several rounds of this before we finally managed to get on a bus - aisles packed full of students who had travelled to Valdivia for the day to stock up on school supplies - great for poor Sophs´claustrophobia...

So we are now trying to tear ourselves away from this lovely house at Lago Ranco and continue with the travelling. I am rather sunburnt but I shan´t complain since that is entirely my own fault. It´s been great to finally experience some warm weather after windy Patagonia. We are now headed for Santiago but are planning a few stops on the way...

Travelling in style...

2007-02-25T12:24:00.000-08:00

I wasn´t going to let on that we have been doing a bit of hitch hiking recently, as I know the reaction most of you will probably have... But that would mean not sharing some very memorable experiences... (Patagonia is very safe. The locals are friendly and accomodating, and you just don´t come across the delinquency that is rife in most of South America´s larger cities). So given that travelling in Patagonia isn´t cheap, and after discussing the matter with a few locals and learning that it´s actually quite a common means of transport in these parts, we decided to give it another go (having already successfully tried it to get to and from the National Park from Puerto Natales and to Punta Arenas). So we left Puerto Natales by bus in order to cross the border back into Argentina (yet another stamp in the passport - we´ve being doing a lot of Chile/Argentina border hopping lately), and from there got a ride to a little place suitably named La Esperanza (hope) - right in the middle of nowhere. We were both starving by this stage, and the only food available was... suprise!! Ham and cheese sandwiches. From there we were given a ride to El Calafate. Arriving from the South this time, we caught lovely views of Lago Argentino and its surrounding mountains. Both feeling slightly nauseous (turned out to be a racing car driver), we pitched our tent in the dusty campsite we had been so relieved to see the back of when passing through several weeks before. The next day we didn´t quite get the early start we had anticipated, but it all worked out perfectly when we got picked up by our most memorable ride yet. Three men from Buenos Aires had converted an old bus into a truck that would transport them around the country; buying, recycling and selling old car batteries and aluminium. It was quite the experience. With missing/rotting teeth, these men were filthy head to toe, but certainly not lacking in smiles and we soon realized that like many of the beautiful people we have met so far, they have so little, yet so much to give. All three of them have families back in Buenos Aires, yet they make this 15 day trip through Patagonia all year round, even when the desert is covered in snow. They were more than happy for us to join them on their journey, and took us right to our destination, El Chalten. So our backpacks were piled in amongst the oily bits and pieces in the back, and we were bundled into the front part of the truck. Every half an hour they would pull a camp stove out and boil up some water for a couple of rounds of mate (whilst driving - such is the importance of mate around here), and they took great pleasure in learning that it was them who woke us up that morning in El Calafate with their loud speaker - cruising around the town announcing their aluminium bits and pieces on offer. It was a very entertaining ride. Arriving in El Chalten was very pittoresque as we approached the mountain peaks of Mount Fitz Roy beneath the setting sun. El Chalten (the Tehuelche Indian name for smoking mountain) is a small tourist town situated in the north of the Parque Nacional Los Glaciares. It´s windy, dusty, expensive, and unattractive, but it lies at the foot of the mountain peaks of the impressive Fitz Roy massif, and is the base for some popular trekking and rockclimbing. We were dropped at a campsite on the edge of town (so nice to experience free camping for a change). Given that it was Valentine´s Day (and that we were both very much without valentines), Sophs kindly shouted us a restaurant meal, during which we experienced two power shortages. This must be a regular occurrence in the town, and the whole restaurant found it highly amusing when Sophs simply put her headlamp on and continued eating. It probably did look a bit odd, but you can´t let your food get cold... We then treated ourselves to some homemade ice cream down the road - homemade ice cream in Patagonia has been exquisite so far. The next day was when we were meant to start our trek, but we woke up to rain. However, in true Patagonian style, the weather did a complete turn in time for us to find somewhere to leave half of our luggage and then begin a several-day trek towards and around Fitz Roy and its mountaneous neighbours. We didn´t set off until late afternoon, but the first campsite was only three hours away. Feeling a bit unfit after a lazy couple of weeks since our last trek, it was very hot walking in the early evening sun. The scenery was fairly uneventful to begin with, but as we arrived at our campsite we caught a sneaky glimpse of Cerro Torre, one of Fitz Roy´s spectacular pointy neighbours. The view from our tent porch that evening was of a flowing river, and we enjoyed some fresh vegetables with our pasta for dinner - quite a treat, and worth the effort lugging them along in our packs. Woke up the next morning to a gorgeous sunny day, and headed up to a lookout just past the campsite where there were stunning views of Cerro Torre (3102m high), perched behind a glaciar and Laguna Torre. It only took a few minutes to clamber up some loose rock and reach the lookout, and the weather was absolutely perfect for enjoying this scene. We then headed back to the campsite for a leisurely breakfast, and then on to the next campsite, Poincenot, about three hours away. We walked through some lovely woods and grassy valleys, past two lagoons - slowly approaching Cerro Fitz Roy (3405m high) and pointy neighbours - the sun-kissed granite peaks emerging from behind a ridge. The campsite was lovely and quiet - nestled in a wood where the only disturbance was a large, strange, eagle-like bird strutting around trying to get some sort of message across. We weren´t even accosted by park rangers on arrival (there weren´t any)!! I spent the evening relaxing in the sun by a nearby stream, a spot from where I could enjoy great views of Fitz Roy and neighbours. The next day we attempted (and mastered) a sunrise. A good viewing spot was only minutes away from the tent (much more appropriate for the early hours of the morning), as opposed to our trek in Torres del Paine where we had battled gale-force winds and clambered up boulders in the dark for an hour... It was a freezing cold morning, but armed with sleeping bag, cup of tea, and broken cameras, we managed to get some photos and have quite an enjoyable morning. That same day we left our backpacks at camp and set off to Laguna de los Tres for a popular and closer view of Fitz Roy and friends. The ascent was a bit draining in the heat (another beautiful day), but the views once we arrived were amazing. We were actually very high up, although didn´t realize this until glancing back down again. Deep blue and green lagoons lay at the base of these spectacular mountain peaks, and we spotted several condors souring around them. We constructed a prayer rock and spent a great couple of hours up there before it started to get a bit cold in the wind. We then headed back down to camp for lunch by the stream - for another fresh vegetable pasta suprise...The sun setting behind the mountain peaks made for a very attractive late evening vista. The next morning we rose at a leisurely pace before heading back to El Chalten. Sophs woke up fed up with my sleep talking (something I do a lot of) - apparently I have even begun talking in Spanish, which, although a good indication of recent language immersion, is slightly more annoying for your room mate... The walk back to El Chalten took about three hours - through woods, past streams, and always looking back towards Fitz Roy and friends. We descended a grassy ridge to return to the town, with views of a turquoise river and more mountains in the distance. We stumbled across a different campsite on the other side of town which was much more pittoresque, and decided to camp there. After setting up camp we then set off on a short walk, Los Cóndores, which leads up to a lookout from where you are meant to be able to spot condors. We were teased all the way up there by little signposts with facts about these magnificent and prized Andean creatures, but they must have already finished their rodent hunting as we didn´t spot any once we were up there. Not to worry, we´ve already seen a few in our travels, but it would have been nice to get a closer peek... After a freezing cold night we woke up and packed up, ready to leave El Chalten (and definitely in need of a shower by this stage). But we had set off too late in the day to be successful in our hitch hiking attempts, so eventually gave up and decided to camp another night and try early in the morning. Whilst waiting for a ride we had bumped into several people whom we had met previously in Chile - that French guy and his friend on their way to buy horses, an American guy whom we met in Puerto Natales, and two British girls. So it actually turned out to be quite a sociable evening, starting with drinks with stray dogs in the boys´intelligently constructed bivouac back at one of the campsites, followed by an Argentine steak at a local restaurant, and then off to another bar. It was good to catch up with them all, and definitely worth staying the extra night. The girls had just bought bicycles and were planning to cycle up the Carretera Austral in Chile, so between their upcoming adventure and the boys and their horses, we certainly had lots of laughs. Unfortunately, this late night ruined our "early start" at hitch hiking the next morning, but we still managed to get a ride in an empty tourist van (for 5 pesos) out to the main road, about a 40 minute drive. It was a beautiful ride with more views of Lago Argentino and looking back towards Fitz Roy. By this stage we were accompanied by a Chilean guy Bernabé who used to work at Torres del Paine, and who we are convinced is following us around Patagonia - he just keeps popping up everywhere. He wouldn´t let the mini van leave until he had rescued the pom pom from his hat (which had sadly dettached itself from his hat and blown several metres down the road)... Nice guy, but you get the picture...

LA RUTA 40
We were then left waiting on Argentina´s legendary (and deserted) Route 40 - a largely unpaved road which runs parallel to the Andes, from Río Gallegos in the South, right up to Bolivia. 4700km in length, this road appears to be a more direct way of travelling north when looking at the map, however due to the road´s condition, most vehicles avoid it and travel east and up along the coast. Only private tour companies travel up this road, and they charge a lot for the ride . Hitch-hiking up the Ruta 40 is therefore probably considered quite courageous... or stupid - one or the other! (For us it was both)... We waited for about three hours, and only a small handful of vehicles were in sight - most travelling in the opposite direction. It was a very isolated spot to be waiting, and we were lucky to still have some water left. Our tent would have been blown away in the wind had we ended up staying the night, although there was a tunnel on the side of the road where previous hitch hikers had obviously slept. We were eventually picked up (Bernabé in tow) and taken to a nearby village called Tres Lagos where there was a campsite. A very small town in the middle of nowhere (certainly didn´t feature in the travel guide), two foreign females were quite the excitement for the local and suitably attired gauchos, whose invitations for a drink we politely declined. Our plans to get hitch hiking early the next morning were foiled again however, when I woke up vomiting. I spent the day with my head in the toilet bowl - we obviously couldn´t go anywhere. When poor Bernabé returned from spending a whole day on the road waiting for a ride, he was the last person I felt like conversing with even though I did genuinely feel sorry for him. I barely had the energy to even respond to his constant offers of puree de papas - instant mashed potato (I was only just managing to keep water down at that stage)... The next morning I woke up to discover that Sophs had spent the night with her head in the toilet bowl, but she managed to pull herself together a bit quicker than I had, and although both of us were still feeling dodgy, we decided to give hitch hiking a go as we still had a lot of distance to cover. Although Bernabé had changed his strategy and decided to head in the other direction, we were not without competition. A British man was also looking for a lift, and he was quite unhappy about being stranded in Patagonia with only 2o pounds left to his name and with a flight to catch from the United States, in August.... How do people get themselves into these situations??!! He then cottoned onto Bernabé´s idea and changed his strategy too, heading South-east. Eventually Sophs and I got a ride all the way to Perito Moreno (which was much further than expected) in a ute with a hilarious and lovely couple. Squashed into the vehicle and battling waves of nausea, we spent the day listening to the lady raving on about various things to her husband in a cheerful tone, and passed through a couple of small towns (and miles of Patagonian desert) before being dropped off at a campsite in Perito Moreno that evening. We were incredibly lucky to get that ride. Perito Moreno was reasonably small but much larger than anything we had seen over those last couple of days, and at least we had access to money there. I gave eating a go, although the stomach wasn´t quite ready for it... The next morning we attempted hitch hiking again, thinking it would be much easier given that there were so many more vehicles passing by. We gave up after four hours, tired of battling stommach cramps and nausea in the cold and wind. We even considered changing our strategy and heading east in search of paved roads and more potential rides... So we settled into a different campsite, and then decided that we were sick of being stuck in the middle of nowhere (as when sick that´s not the most comforting thing), and decided to pay for a bus ticket out of there, up to Bariloche. It was a little on the expensive side, although much cheaper than what we would have payed to travel all the way up from El Chalten. So the next morning we left in a mini van to continue up the Ruta 40. It was a very very dusty ride even inside the van as it bumped its way up the gravel roads. Depleted of energy, I slept most of the way - not that there was all that much scenery to take in apart from Patagonian desert and a few emus. I did however get dragged up to the front of the bus at one stage and was bullied into translating a few facts about the area for the so-called "tour guide" (who was lovely). We finally arrived in Bariloche 12 hours later, and the best thing about that was a bed!!! Accomodation in Bariloche is a little on the steep side, but after seven weeks sleeping on the ground in a tent, we were only too pleased to enter the cheapest hostel we could find. We´ve been here for a couple of days now - a chance to catch up on emails and blogging, having already been in Bariloche before. If I wasn´t still getting over this stomach bug I would be out hiring a bicycle or going for a run around the lake... We are now on our way to Lago Ranco in Chile, where the family of my Chilean friend Tomas has a holiday house... We were hoping to make it there earlier to be able to spend more time with them, but stomach bugs, failed hitch hiking attempts and trouble getting bus tickets from Bariloche across the border (high season) have meant we won´t be getting there as soon as we would have liked. Anyways, it can´t be helped - it´s been an interesting experience all the same! I will try and update soon...

Leaving Puerto Natales...

2007-02-25T12:03:00.000-08:00

We finally managed to pull ourselves away from Puerto Natales on 13 Feb after spending much longer there than intended. Most people probably wouldn´t have all that much trouble leaving - it is a small place - but it still has its charm, and I´ve left behind many beautiful memories and beautiful people...

A bit like home...

2007-02-10T07:59:00.000-08:00

(apart from the cowboy...)

Here are a couple more photos taken when leaving the National Park last week... We are still in Puerto Natales and have even moved house. We are now camping in the backyard of a hostel which we are quite enjoying (despite our newest neighbour being a crowing rooster!) We needed a change of scenery... It´s also a little bit cheaper than what we were paying before. A few days ago we managed to catch a free ride down to Punta Arenas to sort our cameras out (we may as well continue to Antarctica at this rate!) It was even windier down there (if that´s even possible), but we caught a glimpse of the Magellan Straits and Tierra del Fuego in the distance which was quite exciting - almost at the world´s southern most city!! We had a good viewing spot from the meat truck we returned in too... As for the cameras, well it turned out that only very old models were available, and that sending our cameras to Santiago to be fixed (cracked LCD screen) would be the much cheaper option. So we´ve decided to wait until we get to Santiago ourselves (since we can still take blind photos, although it´s a bit of a bugger not being able to see how to change the settings). The Banff film festival has recently graced this little town with its presence, so we´ve been going along to that every night and have seen some interesting stuff on rockclimbing, Chile, and other outdoor Patagonian stuff. Last night we caught up with our four crazy yet adorable Ecuadorian rockclimber friends from the park, whom we bumped into at the film festival. Ended up congregating around the hostel´s campfire (like old park times) and then going out - had a really good night. Tonight the film festival moves to a slightly more upmarket establishment (a cosy modern bar looking out over the water) so we are going to continue with our film-watching dedication, although we won´t be able to take our own refreshments this time, nor afford to buy any there...This afternoon I plan to check out a museum (history of Patagonia etc) and I´m told there´s a rodeo happening tomorrow in a nearby town. On Monday we should be heading on (ie. actually leaving Puerto Natales)... I am certain that all this appalling Chilean Spanish is dangerous for my own Spanish - but loving the experience all the same.

"No es el gaucho de la pampa, ni el cowboy de la pradera, ni es el huaso ni es el charro... es el ovejero de mi tierra..."

José Grimaldi A