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Having a blast in Buenos Aires. But first we still have a few weeks worth of catching up to do blog wise.
Em previously mentioned the bus journey down from Salvador. It pretty much put us on the back foot for the first few days in Rio but we pushed on through with my cold, and the awful hostel, and on the first morning we got ourselves down to Copacabana beach.
It was a Sunday so the beach was too busy - hundreds and thousands of people crammed in the blazing heat. We considered this puny looking parasol in amongst all the Hawaiian Tropic - but only for a few seconds. It was so busy you couldn't even see the sea, so we headed back up towards the shelter of the palm trees. Away from the pedlars, passing the guys playing football or volleyball or the mixture and planted our selves down for an hour or so of reading and watching the people live out the beach life to a T.
There's a gap in my memory after that...I think the heat and exhaustion from the bus journey probably sent us back to the hostel for a siesta.
The next day we took a walk round Cinelandia - in the city centre. We managed to catch a day time film in a beautiful old cinema, where we also picked up a few words of Portuguese and gained an insight into the interesting culture of the city.
Then we took the tram to San Teresa. It was so busy we had to stand on the wooden board along the edge. It was a bit hairy at times, but there were some geart views. On the way back down we had a seat so could take a few photos. On closer inspection pretty much every bit of exposed wall was tagged - which added to the allure in a way. I joked that it would have sent Nottingham City Council into convulsions, or did I?
Then the plan was to go to watch the cup final at the Maracana, but unfortunately we were given the wrong date. We found this out the morning after the match from our new Chilean room mate who was there - along with most of the hostel. It's the biggest stadium in the world, with room for over 100 thousand and rarely gets anywhere near capacity. So this was really the time to be there. It was a great match apparently, the local side Botafogo won 4 nil and the atmosphere was amazing! While all this was happening we were just kicking our feet in the hostel, reading, cooking, etc.
That night we were joined in our dorm by an Australian girl who had spent the last couple of months 'volunteering' in a Bolivian tiger sanctuary.
Had a nice visit to one of the biggest favelas in the world, called Rocina. On the way up Em had the most amazing motor bike ride of her entire life! Apparently even better than the ones in Cat Ba, Saigon and even the shear adventure of Laos. I'll pass you over toEmily to fill you in on life in the favela.
Firstly I´d just like to comment a bit more on the motorbike trip to the top of Rocinha. Not to take anything away from the trips with Lawrence in Vietnam, which were definitely hair raising and/or lovely, but this short ride was amazing. The bike was powerful and the roads were busy and my guy seemed to have money on who would make it to the top first. I wasn´t scared either so I think he pushed it even harder (possibly because I was cheering him on) as he wove through traffic which was coming from all angles and as we veered through the winding streets.
When we reached the top we were warned not to take any photos in this area, as the drugs cartels have 'watchers' to see who is coming in and out of the area, and we didn't want to upset anyone for obvious reasons. All over the favela was 'ADA' graffiti, one of the biggest cartels who basically rule the area. The police don´t come here. The top of the favela is the most expensive to rent, as it is cleaner. The lower down you go, the dirtier the water gets, and when it rains the rubbish that is left out on the 'street' ends up towards the bottom . The place near the bottom is called the Dirty Clothes district as even when you wash your clothes they still end up dirty. But water, electricity and cable do all come for 'free' as they are all illegally taken by running your own wire from the mains. There were some telegraph poles literally bent with the strain of holding all the wires coming out of them. But as we followed our route down the hillside it was a lot more concrete and cleaner than I expected, although it was cramped and a bit dirty in places. However if you´re not on one of the three main roads (which actually look quite normal) it is hard to get a bank account, job and the like because they don´t have addresses. The population in the favellas is always increasing as people migrate there looking for work in the city, and due to the fact that women have children from a very young age (we were told from around 13 in general) and that 6 or 7 children is the norm. I definitely wouldn´t like to be there in an earthquake, as houses are just built on top of existing ones due to lack of space and the cost of land.
There were a few projects in the favella to improve social and living conditions, but these are generally supported by private organisations. We went to a grafitti workshop and art space, where they make art for tourists (which was amazing but too big for us to carry round in our backpacks). And at the end we went to a daycare centre which is partly funded by the money we paid to come on this tour, so we didn´t feel too bad. A friend from the Spanish course I did in Buenos Aires also knew someone that set up a project training kids in kickboxing on the condition that they also attended lessons in lots of other things, English, PSHE etc. We were told that most kids aspire to be footballers or just to be famous (sounds familiar). They all loved having their picture taken, maybe for this reason. The people we met were also really friendly, but I suppose they would be as you wander through with a local guide, willing to buy things and alleviate your conscience by spending money. There were enterprising kids selling bracelets made out of phone wire and shops selling cake, fruit etc. Rocinha is apparently the biggest favela in the world, but it is also one of the most sought after living spaces in terms of favelas. This is partly because in Brazil the employer must pay for their employees' transport costs, and Rocinha is close to and has a good bus service with the rest of the city, where a lot of people work in the service indsutry, in hotels and restaurants and in people´s homes. It did seem more organised and pleasant (not sure that is the right word) than I thought it would be, but drugs, guns and poverty do rule the area. It is shocking that so many people live like this and will remain like this (a fifth of Rio´s population live in favelas) whilst there is such wealth in other areas. Sadly, this is the case in so many places.
We finished off the day watching some very talented kids at football practice on Copacabana beach with a gorgeous sun set and the sugar loaf in the back ground.
The favela tour had such a great view over Rio that we decided not to do the trip to the sugar loaf and/or the big Jesus and thus commit ourselves as outcasts to be scoffed at by the rest of the South America tourist circuit.
On the last day we took the bus to Ipanema and while Em was on the beach I went searching for record shops. Encouraged by our earlier visit to the 'best record shop in the world' which incorporated a jazz cafe with pianist, a bookshop, classic style and spacious design with high ceilings and polished parquet floors. Of course I kept one eye out for the legendary girl from these parts.
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