CARNIVAL!!!!!

It is like some kind of weirdly 3D dream that you're not really sure is real…

It begins……..

The Grande Marina Palace in Rio was spectacular.

The roof top pool just 'topped' it off.

Rio is another world. We arrived in good time on the Saturday afternoon and checked into the hotel. Luxury. I especially enjoyed the big fluffy white pillows. Leblon beach stretched out ahead and to each side, spread with bronzed bodies, colourful lives emanating heat that even the turquoise sea could not subdue. Strolling through the throngs and thongs we bared the beach and sussed out the lay of the land. Lots to assess. I think generally I will need to return to Rio again to make up my mind for sure.

In the evening we were due to meet Mum and Michael. Their flight had been delayed so we ate at the first floor restaurant of the hotel (perfect beach viewing height) and narrowly missed paying R$100 each for jazz. Which I'm sure would have been lovely but as that would have doubled the dinner bill we thought we'd better extricate ourselves from the situation as soon as possible.

We waited at the funky bar downstairs. The capirinhas (cocktails made with local sugar based spirit cachaca) were potent. One down (and after wine at dinner) Mum and Michael arrived and so we just rolled another few on out. Some wonderful (wonderfully drunk) Brazilians came to talk to us and really got into the carnival spirit (mad outfits, copious drinks, swaying dance moves).

The next morning was my worst hang over of the holiday - despite the all-nighters to come.

Saquarema

We had two nights in Saquarema before returning to Rio for the much anticipated - jealously inspiring - carnival experience. It was just enough time to get comfortable and blend in… if that includes learning what to order at the bar and burning to comparable scales to a paint tester card. I think I reached terracotta.

The first night came after the best sunset, sinking miles along the white beach into the borderline of perfect peaks and endless horizon beyond. 

We realised what time it was so trekked back to change for dinner - at which point we realised that it was somewhere between 20 and 40 minutes walk from the pousada to the town. We hit the restaurant at 9pm and ordered the Brazilian speciality - a plate of meat (4 different animals) served with rice, chips and, if we felt we didn't have enough carbs at this point, toasted 'manioc' flour. Fantastic. Two starved sun-stroked travellers' ideal. 

The next day was beach day. After a nice breakfast of white bread rolls, sliced cheese and juicy papaya we settled into sunbathing. Sensibly we thought we would avoid the peak midday heat so went back to change and head into town. Again, unfortunately the long walk slightly changed plans and as we arrived at the back streets past the mercado and locals bars my shins began to prickle. The sun was unforgiving and shade was hard to come by. Sidling awkwardly along curb corners for as long as possible I side stepped sun streaks until we found a suitably canopied restaurant to regroup. 

After 3pm we thought it might be safe and set out to hunt for a bus station. What a difference to Rio's hell hole. Just 4 people waiting quietly by a juice bar, cheap easy ticket sales and reserved seats for tomorrow's journey.

The walk back was a challenge.

Surfing the shade we made it to the main bus stop along the seafront and waited for our release back to the fan cooled room. Still it was not all plain sailing just yet… 

The bus rattled past our left turn, and slid around the next roundabout too. Jonny said get off, I said stay on, who knows what the best thing to do was - the bus was clearly heading deeper into the jungle and none spoke our language. After twice as long as the ride home should have taken the bus got a small rural village (red roves, some exposed building works, a small window selling drinks) turned around and switched its engine off. 

Everyone got off - the time had come to take action! Oh dear. The bus driver looked utterly confused and two women waiting at the bus stop began to giggle. Fortunately the younger (scantily clad) woman was an energetic communicator and made a good effort to work out what was wrong with these crazy english people. Between three of them they decided to find the only english speaking person in the village. After some time a young girl - definitely not Brazilian - was brought out to speak to us, she may have been French or European, because she definitely could not speak English! Her 'guardian' did the best job at translation and eventually they worked out that we were just waiting for the driver to start the bus back up and return to our starting point. 

Day 2 started well...

Centro / Lapa looked good in the sun! The giant pyramid thing turned out to be a church and the theatre turned out to be closed. Leaving about an hour to taxi to the bus station was a good idea at first and I felt for a minute that I was getting used to taxis… But Rio bus station "rodoviaria" is like an airport from hell. No signs, no times, and even more interminable queues.

The taxi driver has planted the seed in our minds of taking a taxi to Saquarema (a two hour drive - excluding traffic). So we dragged out suitcases back out to flag down a yellow cabbie (the "cheaper" type). It was fairly easy to thumb one down and all seemed fine as he quoted us around R$180 (about £40). I even thought 'oh he's taking us on a nice tour of Rio to get fuel before we head out north…' Wonderful. Until we actually went under Christ the Redeemer and suspiciously sidled up alongside the lake near to Ipanema.
"Ipanema?"
"Saquarema"
"Ipanema…"
"Saquarema".
It would appear that Mr. Nice Taxi Man had 'misheard' drastically. Doh.
So of course he had thought, brilliant I'll take these nice young Americans for a ride (R$180 for a 1/2 hour journey in Rio is pretty steep). Renegotiation began.

Saquarema is a quaint town, almost typical, if there was a typical Brazilian town, with colourful doorways, large outstretched verandas hung with hammocks, open windows letting the warm air blow through the houses. The main square where the young parade themselves after sunset, the row of bars spilling onto the road selling their cooler-jacket clad beers. The white washed church perched on the rocky focal point was a disappointingly long was from our pousada - which was to be the deciding factor in a good/bad stay.

We were dropped by Mr. Nice/Crazy Taxi Man right outside, and to give him credit, he did ask about seven people for directions. True to Trip Advisor form it took a while for someone to come to the door but finally we were met by a wonderfully smily American girl - thank god! English speaking!

The pousada was simple but pleasant. The room had a shower with one temperature tap… and an overbed fan to cool the 30 degree heat. The beach and aquamarine Atlantic were literally out the door an across the road.

First activity on the to-do list: some beach lying.

Rio de Janeiro

Travels on Another Continent - Brazil Part 1

So after a 'short' break from writing this blog I have new travel news from the other side of the world.

Brazil 

Beginning on Tuesday 10th February 2015, Jon Watling and Emily McCoy set off for new lands…

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After a roller-coaster of travel nerves, suitcase traumas, Spanish aero-food and copious dubiously labelled beers, we arrived at 8pm in the muggy dark of Rio International airport - bags still all, just about, in one piece.

The warm air hit us as we crawled out of the plane into the queue for passport check - yes, apparently it's not just the British who love to queue - although unfortunately during the carnival period it was mostly 'guapas' coming to Brazil, foreigners, of pretty much every nationality. Coincidentally also those not from Rio are known as guavas.

The first night of this particular journey was slept in Centro - the central district bordering Lapa, the 'party' area. And Lapa lived up to its reputation with bars spilling out into the streets, only just enough space to walk between bikes, busses and cars careering through at top speed and shouting cariocas with 'long neck' beers (in cooler) topping up little glasses.

We cosied up to a small group of men on a wooden table on the pavement and at last settled down to two large, cold, local beers. We were only stared at just a little bit…