After a good night’s sleep and an excellent breakfast, we boarded the bus for a half hour trip to Cocovado. Here we got aboard an electric tram that took us up the steep mountain and through the largest urban forest in the world. Then it was up a couple hundred steps until we suddenly found ourselves standing at the feet of Christ — that is, at the base of the famous “Christ the Redeemer” statue that overlooks the city of Rio de Janeiro.
The photos of the statue don’t do it justice. In the pictures it always looks much bigger than it actually is (although with arms outstretched to a 92 foot wing span, it’s not exactly tiny). The photos also make it look rather kitchy. Despite the tourist shops on the way up, it’s more tastefully reverent than many other religious sites we’ve visited. And the city views, despite morning haze, are pretty spectacular from up there.
In the tram on the way down we struck up a conversation with a young couple from northern Argentina who were vacationing in Rio. They gave us some tourist tips for when we visit Iguassu Falls and Buenos Aires in a few days, as well as recommendations for local beers in Rio. It was a different perspective and a reminder that this is a tourist destination for many from around South America, especially when school is out for the summer, as they are now.
Our next stop was the Selaron Stairs. Grafitti and street art are pervasive in this city, but Jorge Selaron was an artist who took street art to a next level by covering the stairs of his steep, pedestrian only residential street with ceramic tiles. The tiles are odd collections of whatever he could find, and very colorful, but in a neighborhood that has little else going for it (and is a high-crime location).
OAT trips often seem to include motorbike rides. We’ve experienced these in India and Vietnam, among other places. But this was not an OAT-arranged sedate ride. It is a taxi service of sorts offered in the hilly Saint Vincent neighborhood. These guys set up on a street corner and offer to take riders around the city traffic for a fee. The trip was fast, the curves were tight, and I had to keep my elbows in because we were so close to other vehicles. Oncoming trucks and buses when we were passing in the left lane added to the excitement. I feared for my life!
We were, however, delivered in one piece to our destination, a local restaurant that features “feijoada” — a traditional Brazillian black bean and pork stew served over rice. It was very good.
On the way back from the hotel we drove past the famous Ipanema beach. We didn’t see “The Girl from Ipanema,” we saw many. “Thong” bikinis are all the rage (even on bodies, male and female, that have no business wearing any sort of bikini). But our guide assured us that these were all tourists, as natives of Rio tend to be much more discreet in covering up. That said, the vibe of the entire city is very casual. Even in the city center one never sees a man wearing a tie, and for women a skirt and sleeveless top constitutes business attire. Everywhere we look, on the streets or on the beach, it is clear that people here are generally much more comfortable showing a lot more skin than your average American, or even your average European.
We had the option of being dropped off at Ipanema to walk the 5 kilometers (3 miles) back to our hotel at Copacabana. Ordinarily that would have been our thing. But unaccustomed to the sudden heat, and still a little jet-lagged, we opted to return to the hotel on the bus. The rest of the group did likewise. We thought about going out onto the beach or up to the pool, but decided on a nap, instead.
At 6 p.m. we gathered once again to hear from a resident of one of the “favellas,” or squatter settlements. Rio has about 1000 Favellas housing about 1.8 million people who cannot otherwise afford the high rent to live here. Most are employed in low-level jobs. OAT used to take groups into a favella, but the crime rates have become so high that they have opted instead to bring a favella resident to the group. This is unfortunate, as we would have liked to see it first hand. But the woman was very interesting. A descendant of slaves (Brazil was the last country in the world to abolish legal slavery in the 1880s), she is already a great-grandmother at age 55. She has been a victim of police violence (police are generally regarded as being highly corrupt here).
The woman came dressed in her Carnival costume and concluded her presentation by demonstrating her Samba moves. She said that the Samba club to which she belongs has been her way of coping with her hard life, and that she would not even be alive today without Samba. She has been declared “The Queen of the Samba” by the Carnival, and she could really shake it!
We finished the evening with a walk along the beach, a snack, and a cold beer.
Our next stop was the Selaron Stairs. Grafitti and street art are pervasive in this city, but Jorge Selaron was an artist who took street art to a next level by covering the stairs of his steep, pedestrian only residential street with ceramic tiles. The tiles are odd collections of whatever he could find, and very colorful, but in a neighborhood that has little else going for it (and is a high-crime location).
On the way back from the hotel we drove past the famous Ipanema beach. We didn’t see “The Girl from Ipanema,” we saw many. “Thong” bikinis are all the rage (even on bodies, male and female, that have no business wearing any sort of bikini). But our guide assured us that these were all tourists, as natives of Rio tend to be much more discreet in covering up. That said, the vibe of the entire city is very casual. Even in the city center one never sees a man wearing a tie, and for women a skirt and sleeveless top constitutes business attire. Everywhere we look, on the streets or on the beach, it is clear that people here are generally much more comfortable showing a lot more skin than your average American, or even your average European.
We had the option of being dropped off at Ipanema to walk the 5 kilometers (3 miles) back to our hotel at Copacabana. Ordinarily that would have been our thing. But unaccustomed to the sudden heat, and still a little jet-lagged, we opted to return to the hotel on the bus. The rest of the group did likewise. We thought about going out onto the beach or up to the pool, but decided on a nap, instead.
The woman came dressed in her Carnival costume and concluded her presentation by demonstrating her Samba moves. She said that the Samba club to which she belongs has been her way of coping with her hard life, and that she would not even be alive today without Samba. She has been declared “The Queen of the Samba” by the Carnival, and she could really shake it!
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