São Paulo, Santo André, Curitiba and Around

São Paulo

Having arrived at the international airport of the Brazilian megalopolis when darkness already reigned supreme, after drinking a café with a taste that was, to say the least, strange, we set to work looking for accommodation. In no time at all, thanks to the help of an advertising flyer, we had the solution in our pocket: after almost two months we were making our return to a hostel, escorted by a taxi driver who didn't know how to find his way around his own city and who had us drive around the neighborhood for a good half hour. After completing the usual check-in procedures we settled into a dormitory packed full of Brazilians; at first this seemed strange to us but then, as our roommates explained, we understood that it was quite normal

The following morning we woke up to take advantage of the breakfast included in the price (since the previous evening we hadn't even had dinner) and after filling our stomachs properly we packed our backpacks and left the hostel. In fact, while having breakfast, chatting with some guys, we had discovered that right in the city center (on Avenida Paulista) there was a hotel of a well-known international chain that offered rooms at a lower price than what we were paying at the hostel. Having quickly hurried to this infamous hotel, the young lady behind the counter gave us bad news: no rooms available at the moment... thank goodness!!! The only solution was to make a reservation for the following day and set out, with no small effort, in search of a place nearby where we could park ourselves for a night.

With our backpacks on our shoulders we crossed the street a million times from one side to the other in search of hospitality and finally, after half an hour, we had managed to find a hotel undergoing renovation that offered us a room. A series of tough negotiations began aimed at obtaining a well-deserved discount given the precarious conditions of our accommodation and in the end, partially satisfied, we reached an agreement: problem solved, we could start visiting the city. Given the vastness of the metropolis we focused on the historic center and, having taken the metro, after five minutes we were already in Praça da Sé, where the Cathedral of the same name stands. From there, thanks to the information taken from a tourist map, we began our visit.

Although it's called "historic center&amp", it is vast in size and there aren't many truly historic buildings: skyscrapers, skyscrapers and more skyscrapers. We walked through all the pedestrian streets available to us, passing through little markets, luxury shops, an immense city park and the spectacular municipal theater, and then returned to the point from which we had started. We went back to our squalid room not too late so we could get ready to meet Rodrigo, a Brazilian guy we had met in Mexico City. He came to pick us up with his car right at the hotel, from where we began a brief tour of São Paulo by night and then entered a characteristic little place where they played live music. The evening passed between a glass of caipirinha and some excellent Brazilian jazz.

The following morning we packed our backpacks again to move to the Formula 1, the hotel we had booked the previous day: incredible, in three days we had slept in three different places but without changing city. After unpacking our backpacks again in the new hotel, we followed the advice of our friend Rodrigo and went to visit the largest park in São Paulo. It was the right day, a sunny Sunday afternoon and on top of that there was a jazz festival going on in the park; we spent the day among a crowd of people, walking through tree-lined avenues and green flowerbeds, pausing now and then at some bar to sip an ice-cold drink. In the late afternoon, before returning to our hotel, we took the metro again to head to the bus station, a gigantic building that holds the world record for the flow of people who pass through it every day.

After buying the tickets for our next destination and checking the travel times, we returned to Avenida Paulista to munch on something and slip straight under the sheets in the company of mommy TV.

Curitiba

Having woken up early in the morning, after a hearty breakfast we got on the bus to begin our descent toward southern Brazil, with the first stop being Curitiba where Angela, a Brazilian friend of ours who had kindly invited us to her home, was waiting for us. After six very fast hours of travel we reached our destination and immediately phoned Angela to let her know we had arrived. No sooner had we hung up the receiver than our friend was already rushing up in front of the station, alas in a very, very, very small car. She hadn't reckoned with the Return to the Parallel Zero expedition and with the immense backpacks we were carrying on our backs: it wasn't easy to find the right arrangement but thanks to a game of fitting things together the operation succeeded.

Once at Angela's house we got to know her family: her mom, the centuries-old grandparents of Japanese origin and Furacão, a tremendous black poodle that didn't stop barking for a second. No sooner had we washed up than we were back in the car to go have dinner at one of Angela's mom's restaurants. It was a restaurant specializing in soups and we certainly didn't miss the chance to try them all.

The following morning a long day was planned with Marta, Angela's mom, who would act as our guide around the city of Curitiba. A super hearty breakfast with the table laid out with every good thing, then into the car and off toward the botanical garden. The park consisted of an immense green space and was characterized by a structure of metal and glass that serves as a greenhouse for a varied quantity of tropical and non-tropical plants. From the garden we moved toward the city center, crossing its pedestrian street to reach the historic University of the State of Paraná. Lunch was planned in the company of Juliana, a friend of Angela who had gotten the day off work just to meet us. Juliana, who spoke good Italian, advised us to have our lunch in a Mineiro restaurant, which offered typical local cuisine.

After a couple of digestive strolls we headed toward the contemporary art museum designed by Oscar Niemeyer and, under Juliana's expert guidance, we admired the countless works exhibited inside. After the museum began an exhausting "Way of the Cross" through the immense and countless city parks in which we chased an indefatigable little woman half our height but with an energy that made us envious (we're referring to the little demon Marta, Angela's mom). By now drained of strength and convinced we were heading home, we found ourselves at the foot of the television tower, since Marta had decided we couldn't miss a view of Curitiba from above. Having gone all the way up, indeed the game was worth the candle and after a brief visit and a surprising sunset we took the elevator again and, back in the car, we finally headed home.

Once we arrived we discovered that our evening wouldn't end with a shower, since Juliana's dad had already arranged to invite us to dinner at a churrascaria, a typical Brazilian restaurant specializing in grilled meat. No sooner had we gotten out of the shower than we were back in the car: once at the churrascaria we found ourselves facing Juliana's entire family, who welcomed us with a big smile and a very Italian "benvenuti". Yes, because both Juliana's father and mother studied Italian and even had many relatives still in Italy. As in every self-respecting churrascaria there were no limits on the quantity of food and we, wanting to try every type of meat, stuffed ourselves like animals, though reaching a solemn conclusion: of all the types of meat we tried, picanha reigns supreme...

superb! Agonizing and with our brains short on oxygen due to the laborious digestive process, before taking our leave we accepted the invitation made to us by Juliana's father, which included for the following day another visit to the city of Curitiba, this time to the immediate outskirts.

And so it was, the following morning bright and early (too early, in fact) our guide was waiting for us in his office, from which the expedition to Campo Grande would set off, the little town where José, Juliana's father, was born and where even now a high number of Italians is still concentrated. The visit continued by climbing along tortuous and narrow mountain roads to reach a delightful cottage owned by José. Having come back down to Campo Grande we took advantage of our guide's hospitality, who even offered us a sumptuous lunch, this one also based on picanha. The day ended with a meeting with the president of the "Trevigiani nel Mondo" of Curitiba, after which we returned to Angela's house to retrieve our luggage and head to the Rodoviária (bus station) to board for Foz do Iguaçu.

Santo André

After yet another night on a bus in the vain attempt to catch a nap we arrived in Santo André a medium-large city on the outskirts of São Paulo. The reason that drove us all the way here was the visit to an international cooperation project that the Province of Treviso is carrying out with the Prefecture of Santo André; for this reason we had already contacted Mrs. Miriam Blois the local person in charge of the aforementioned project and had set an appointment for the afternoon of that same day. But let's get back to us, once we got off the bus the usual search for lodging began which unfortunately was not very easy since most of the hotels that were in the city were of too high a standard compared to our means.

We wandered around for more than half an hour on board a taxi combing the city center in search of lodging and then returned, in the grip of despair, to the first hotel we had looked at. Besides the damage of the lost time there was also the insult of having to pay a very steep bill to the taxi driver: unacceptable! Having settled into the room just long enough to "iron out" our faces to make ourselves at least presentable, we set off again toward the Prefecture. Another taxi and in a few minutes we were at our destination and perfectly on time we presented ourselves at the reception; they had us sit initially in the conference room for a very welcome café and after a few minutes the Brazilian delegation presented itself and a pleasant discussion began on the meaning and development of the project and then we rambled on about many other topics, not least our trip.

The project was part of the broad topic of urban management and in particular the organization of traffic, understood as vehicular, cycling and pedestrian circulation. Also for this reason we were offered the possibility of taking a city tour on board a Prefecture car to get a sense of the real situation of the urban structure of Santo André. Having set the appointment for the following day we returned to the hotel to take a shower and again out on the street to take a look at the city center. We lingered to have dinner in a classic shopping mall and then headed to the main street: Miriam Blois had given us the address of a little place where they served the best caipirinha in the country and we certainly could not let the opportunity slip away.

The following day in the late morning we headed to the appointment or rather we made sure to be there at 11:00 in front of our hotel to begin the city tour on board an official vehicle. Our guide was a psychologist to whom the management of Santo André's traffic had been entrusted; beside him sat the driver, a wild madman who railed against everyone and was identical to Charles Bronson.

The visit lasted about three hours through city parks, main traffic arteries, bike lanes under construction ending at the traffic dispatch center where through a series of cameras positioned in the nerve centers of the city, it was possible to keep traffic under control also detecting any violations of the highway code: inflexible! In the late afternoon, once the visit was over, we had ourselves accompanied to the bus station to buy the ticket that in the late evening would allow us to reach Rio de Janeiro. Having returned to the hotel, washed and quickly packed our backpacks, we boarded yet another night bus that in a little more than six would arrive in Rio de Janeiro.