Rio de Janeiro

Rio de Janeiro

We arrived at the Rio station at four in the morning on a gloomy Thursday in September, still sleepy and aware that we could not move from there for at least three hours; there was nothing left for us to do but park ourselves on the floor and wait for the first light of dawn to begin the search for lodging. After three interminable hours we boarded a taxi to reach a hostel we had chosen a few days earlier fiddling around on the internet. In twenty minutes we reached Botafogo, the neighborhood where our future residence was located. On the outside the hostel had no sign and it was not simple to spot it but in the end, also thanks to a good soul who was passing right in front of it, we managed to find the entrance door and the relevant doorbell. We were greeted by a tepid and unusual "welcome" addressed to us by a girl who seemed anything but Brazilian.

The only beds available were in a dormitory for twenty-five people but given our physical condition we certainly did not feel up to going in search of a new hostel; we accepted the offer in spite of ourselves and collapsed onto the mattresses. In the early afternoon, rested and with our energy recovered, we headed toward Copacabana to visit its mythical beach and to look for another hostel. All in all what the market offered us did not differ much from what we already had, which is why we decided not to change hostels. A gloomy and cloudy sky did not manage to hold back our enthusiasm at the sight of Copacabana and in particular of its immense beach, a long strip of sand beaten by the ocean waves and packed full of ball artists.

The day was by now over and having taken the subway again we returned to the hostel to get ready for dinner, the intention was to head again to Copacabana to munch on something but above all to see the neighborhood at night, its famous venues and little bars along the beach. We headed toward the seafront and began an interminable walk to linger among the little markets in search of some souvenir.

The following day too the weather conditions continued to turn their backs on us and the clouds persisted in lingering above the bay, but it was not enough to discourage us: the goal of the day was to obtain all the information necessary to purchase a "passeio por Rio", one of those tourist tours that allow you in a single day to visit the major attractions of the city. No sooner said than done we were stopped on the beach by a friendly gentleman who with flyer in hand was offering us exactly what we were looking for and in no time at all we were seated at the table of his agency to discuss the details. The offer was decidedly enticing: eight hours wandering around Rio, between the Pao de Açucar and the Corcovado, the Maracanà and the Sambodromo, between Flamengo and Botafogo and much, much more.

Having agreed on prices and times we took our leave: the following day at nine our tour of Rio would begin.

The following morning we were greeted by the usual clouds that made us doubt the possibility of postponing the tour to another day but having called the agency, our guide assured us that the weather would improve and we like suckers believed him. Having gotten into the minibus we met our travel companions: two Colombians, a cheerful little Ecuadorian family and another South American couple whose nationality we managed to identify. Just the time to get on board and we were already on our way to the Maracanà stadium, the temple of Brazilian football unfortunately visitable only in part since it was closed for renovations.

After the ritual photos next to the footprints of the Seleçao champions we headed toward the Sambodromo, a majestic structure made of large tiers that overlook a main street on which during carnival time Brazilian madness is unleashed; of course seeing it empty is another thing but with a little imagination it is not hard to believe the images that every year television offers us about this place. From the Sambodromo, passing through Botafogo and Flamengo, we then headed toward the economic center to visit the immense metropolitan cathedral a recently built structure of debatable charm. We left the center accompanied by an insistent drizzle to head again toward Copacabana where we would have lunch in a classic churrascaria. The lunch was particularly good and abundant especially if we consider that it was included in the price.

With full bellies we got back into the van to reach one of the most characteristic places of Rio de Janeiro: the Pao de Açucar. For all those who did not know it the Pao de Açucar is a mountain with a very particular shape that dominates the bay of Rio and which it is possible to climb to the top of through a cable car. After a few minutes our guide had procured the ticket for us and after a few minutes of waiting we began the ascent to the mountain with an intermediate stop at a small hill that precedes the Pao de Açucar. Having taken the cable car again in five minutes we were at our destination: Rio from above is a spectacle that enters inside you and never leaves you.

Despite the day being anything but sunny, it was an unforgettable experience; with our backs to the ocean it was possible to see on our left Ipanema and Copacabana, in front of us the little beach of Botafogo and moving still further to the left the seafront of Flamengo. Unfortunately the time at our disposal was not much and in a moment it was already time to go down and get back into the van to go up this time as far as Christ the Redeemer. Along the way we crossed and also stopped in the lush Tijuca forest for a ritual photo. It was time to reach Christ the Redeemer, something that proved longer than expected, crossing narrow little roads that seemed swallowed by the forest and immersed among the clouds, with a slope to make the best of cyclists turn pale.

In the end though our van brought us to our destination: having set foot on the ground we immediately noticed how the temperature had suddenly dropped and thanks also to the strong wind we wrapped our arms around our bodies in an attempt to warm ourselves. Three flights of stairs and an elevator separated us from the immense marble work positioned right at the very top of the Corcovado mountain to protect the city. Finally at the top we were again left speechless not so much by the statue, which certainly is immense, but rather by the view that could be enjoyed from up there at the top. Perhaps even more spectacular than the panorama we had enjoyed from the Pao de Açucar because from here the bay could be perceived in its entirety and immensity: we were admiring one of the most beautiful cities encountered on our trip...

speechless! In this place too we could not linger long thanks to the cold but above all the darkness that was descending on the city. Our tour was over and having gotten back into the minibus we were driven right up in front of our house, where everything had begun. In the evening the hostel had organized a group outing for a bit of Brazilian-style fun and we took the opportunity on the fly; washed and perfumed we met up with our roommates at the bar and after a bit of chit-chat along came four taxis: the evening had begun.

Under the constant eye of Tracy, one of the many people who work at the hostel, we reached the neighborhood of Lapa where deafening music and a sea of people filled the street: engaging! It is not easy to describe the atmosphere that could be breathed, we moved along the main street trying to make our way through the crowd that swayed to the rhythm of samba and caipirinha and then reach the other side of the street where, under a bridge, an improvised group armed with drums, pot lids, birinbao and anything else that could produce a sound was playing sambas.

Everyone seemed in the grip of a collective trance and continued to dance without stopping in the middle of the street among the stalls that offered cocktails of every kind; it was an unprecedented spectacle a collective delirium aimed at fun and we too, having set aside every thought regarding the dangerousness of the place, entered to become part of it. After having wandered right and left among the streets overflowing with people we decided to slip into one of the numerous venues leaving it only at the first light of dawn.

The following morning we woke up in the company of an unusual sun and we did not let the opportunity slip to go spend the day at the beach, but not at just any beach, we were at Copacabana. Having put our feet in the sand we immediately realized that the beach was crowded with people and it would not be easy to find a space to set down our towels. We basked in the sun for a couple of hours after which, seized by the pangs of hunger, we went toward a "lanchonette", a kind of kiosk, to treat ourselves to a snack. With our bellies partially full we returned to the base where the television was broadcasting a Seleçao match, everyone was glued to the screens despite Brazil leading 4 to 0: most faithful! To celebrate qualification for the World Cup the hostel owners had thought it well to organize a party inviting of course all the guests, ourselves included.

We however decided to skip the party and to go together with other roommates to eat something all together. With us there was also Alex, a guy from San Francisco who told us something shocking: he too the previous evening had gone to celebrate in Lapa, in the same streets crowded with people in which we too had immersed ourselves and had witnessed a shooting in which a person had been killed. In the same street in which we had been walking shortly before, a hell had broken loose: fortunately we were already inside a venue. Alex said that the thing that shocked him most was not so much the sight of a dead person, but the indifference of the people who instead of giving aid continued to mind their own business. Alex also addressed the police directly to urge their intervention but the only response he got was also in this case indifference.

We decided to write about this episode too so that all readers intending to go to Brazil are aware that such events can happen at any moment: it is not said that they must happen, but when you least expect it everything can happen: be careful! A bit shaken by the anecdote we concluded the evening quietly and after a bit of chit-chat we returned to the hostel and straight to bed.

The following day would be the last we would spend in the wonderful city of Rio de Janeiro and we decided to spend it strolling through the center. Accompanied by the usual clouds we made our way to a deserted city center crossing some squares and lingering to admire some churches (of little importance), until we reached the municipal theater. The excursion did not last long but all strictly on foot, something that tried us deeply and led us to the decision to go back home fairly early for a shower and a bit of healthy rest. The following morning we packed our backpacks, paid our debts and got into a taxi to reach the bus station: our destination was Buzios a characteristic little seaside town, a famous tourist spot frequented by VIPs and by Brazilians themselves.