Ouro Preto and Belo Horizonte

Ouro Preto

The journey to get to Ouro Preto was particularly complicated: it took the usual three hours for the Buzios-Rio de Janeiro route and from there we caught another bus that, departing late in the evening, delivered us to our destination at the first light of the following day. Besides the double change of vehicle, perhaps the hardest thing was the winding road full of hairpin turns and constant braking that made the trip particularly grueling. Ouro Preto is a little town in the middle of the mountains in the state of Minas Gerais, known to the chronicles for its gold and precious mineral mines that in the past attracted the interest of many people and especially the conquistadores. Nowadays, with the mines long closed, Ouro Preto remains just a characteristic colonial town clinging to the mountains from which it's possible to set off on excursions to the disused mines.

Having reached the inevitable rodoviaria (bus station), we gathered the usual information on where to stay, opting for a very cheap posada located right near the town's main square. By taxi we arrived at the entrance door where the owner was standing with his inseparable cigarette in hand. Given the hour of our arrival, we initially settled into two rooms while waiting for a larger one to free up, then sat at the tables of a bar to fight the morning cold, warming our stomachs with a very sweet hot chocolate. With full bellies we went back, the room was ready and after moving our things we lay down on the bed since the night spent on the bus had turned out to be tormented and sleepless.

In the early afternoon, when the sun had already warmed the air, we went down for a first taste of our new destination, immediately taking advantage of the tourist information service made available to the many tourists in the town. We immediately understood that besides the abandoned mines and the related museum, this place couldn't offer us much else, and so nothing remained but a fleeting visit of the center since by now it was too late to push on to the infamous mines. As already mentioned, the town was clinging to the mountains and consequently, in order to explore it, it was essential to arm ourselves with patience and willpower given the numerous and very steep ups and downs it was built on. In about two hours we managed to do a complete tour of the center and after taking the usual ritual photos we returned to the posada since as darkness fell the temperature was dropping too.

As very often happens in mountain towns, all the shops and even the restaurants close very early: Ouro Preto is no exception to this rule, and having gone down for dinner shortly before ten we had great difficulty finding an open place; the restaurants were all closed and we had to settle for a misto quente (a sort of toasted sandwich) consumed at a kiosk in front of the house. Although it was Saturday night, the nightlife was also slow to take off and perhaps would never take off: apart from two bars and a gelateria around which a small crowd of young people gathered, the rest of the town was completely deserted and there were no alternatives other than going back home.

The following morning, rested and fresh as a rose, we had set ourselves the goal of reaching the largest mine in the area, now disused and used as a tourist attraction. After asking for information on where we could catch the bus, we got on the vehicle and after about forty minutes we had arrived at "Minas de passeio", our destination. After paying a very steep entrance fee we joined a line behind a school group and then climbed into the most classic of mine carts which, by means of a system of cables and rails, descended into the bowels of the earth where the guided tour of the mine began. Our guide, little more than a kid, led us through the various tunnels in which the mine was laid out, explaining its history and assuring us that it was no longer active.

The visit lasted just over a quarter of an hour and was anything but exciting: we got back on the same cart as on the way in to be dragged back up to the surface. Disappointed and a bit angry about the amount we'd spent, we headed to the bus stop to reach Ouro Preto again and specifically the rodoviaria where we could buy the tickets and visit the nearby church of San Francesco, the most important one in Ouro Preto. In an instant it was already evening, and so we headed once again to the center to munch on something and then return right after to the posada to pack our backpacks since the next morning it would be time to leave for Belo Horizonte.

Belo Horizonte

Ouro Preto is only about a hundred kilometers from Belo Horizonte, which is why the trip didn't last more than two hours. In the early afternoon we had already arrived at the immense rodoviaria (bus station) of Belo Horizonte, fortunately equipped with a tourist information office, which we rushed to immediately to get the name of some hotel. Mission accomplished and in no time at all we had already identified our future lodgings, which we reached by the inevitable taxi. The Hotel Commodoro was an old building with antiquated furnishings and an out-of-time elevator (crank-operated), but located in a fairly central area and with the most reasonable price on the market.

Once in the room we were struck by a sudden chronic tiredness that, combined with the pleasant and unusual presence of cable TV, paralyzed us in bed all afternoon until only in the evening did we find the strength to get up because the pangs of hunger were beginning to grip our stomachs. We took a taxi and asked the driver to take us to the liveliest area of the city so we could have dinner; having arrived at the place and paid the taxi driver, we realized that the area was anything but lively, rather a dead zone where it was even hard to find an open restaurant. Disappointed with the evening, we returned to the soft coils of our bed to continue the discussion interrupted shortly before.

The following morning we woke up in what seemed like another city, invaded by a river of people crowding the sidewalks and the countless shops that compared to the previous night seemed to have sprung up out of nowhere. Indeed, Belo Horizonte is the third largest city in Brazil, capital of the state of Minas Gerais. Pleasantly surprised by this frenetic burst of life, we didn't hesitate to dive into the crowd and begin the usual city exploration. Belo Horizonte is more than anything a commercial city, not very rich in historical monuments and therefore not particularly suited to "classic" tourism. We, map in hand, headed first of all toward the immense city market, a fully covered structure also swarming with people in constant motion and where it's possible to find anything you might be looking for.

The visit continued to Praça da Libertade and then to Praça Tiradentes, pausing at some historical buildings such as the Palace of Arts and the church of Nossa Senhora da Boa Viagem, then pushing on to the edges of the large city park, which was however closed. We then decided to take a bus and push on to the Pampulha neighborhood with the aim of visiting the church of Sao Francisco de Assis built by the very famous Brazilian architect Oscar Niemeyer. The journey to reach the destination proved quite long, passing through some favelas with the constant uncertainty of where to get off. In fact we got off a bit too far along and had to take a taxi to reach the designated goal. It was a somewhat "sui generis" little church that escapes the usual constructions we're used to.

To tell the truth, despite its alternative structure, we weren't particularly impressed by it, and in fact after a few photos and a video we hopped back on the bus for Belo Horizonte. Back in the city we made a stop at the rodoviaria to buy the tickets heading to Salvador de Bahia, after which we went back to our hotel. After a good shower our attention was once again captivated by the "magic box" broadcasting an unmissable classic: Rain Man! We didn't even have dinner but the conditions didn't allow for it.

The following morning, having woken up with an understandable little hunger, we abused the breakfast offered by the hotel, packed our backpacks and completed the check-out procedures, then headed off to spend the remainder of the day in the Parque Municipal where we were entertained by a tennis match but above all by three meninos de rua who told us about their adventures in the favelas. By five in the afternoon we were already at the bus station because at six we would be departing for Salvador de Bahia on a journey, or rather an adventure, that would take us to break every record for staying on a bus: twenty-four hours and three minutes... enough to drive you crazy!