In our Lonely Planet guide book the main thing they advise you against in La Paz is to share a taxi with a stranger. They could be in cahoots with the driver, take you down an alley and force you to extract cash from your person and your bank account. So, the first thing we do is get into a taxi with a stranger. Obviously. It's 3am and I'm totally disorientated. It feels like the plane hasn't fully landed yet. It's also pretty darn cold. The taxi ride turns out ok and the Bolivian with us tells us how much of a dangerous area the airport is located in, which is why he shared the taxi with us.
At night the place looks pretty strange. The airport is much higher than the city itself so you descend sharply. The lights from the city look good spread out all amongst large mountains, it does seem an odd place to inhabit though.
We get to our hostel and eventually a decrepid old guy answers the door to let us in. Our room is basic. Also, handily enough, it's right next to the tiny living room so if anybody even so much as whispers outside you can hear them. Thankfully whispering wasn't needed as at 6am the tv was on soo loud it would prove ineffective.
I have a terrible headache and my brain feels like it's bleeding internally. This was not a nice place.
Let's have a look round.
Walking the streets you instantly realise the massive difference in population here. Over 70% of people here are of indeginous descent and certainly have a different look to their Spanish conquorers. There's also I high amount of traditional dress going on. Lots of women wear multi-coloured skirts and have a black bowler hat sitting atop their heads. They're usually carrying some large swath of multi-coloured material with varying contents within. Ranging from potatoes and fruit to clothes and babies. The place is pretty dirty and run down with seemingly no redeeming features. The locals aren't too concerned about us at least. We'd been told good things about Bolivia and that it's a great experience but so far the people have been miserable and unfriendly towards us. Not my kind of experience.
The air definitely feels thinner here and it's much harder to breath and move around. I really don't want to do anything at all other than sleep. It's supposed to take at least a couple of days to acclimatise, I don't want to stay that long.
A lot of the people probably haven't changed much in thousands of years here and that's also probably due to the fact that why would the Spanish be very interested in inhabiting such a high place? It seems odd that anyone would choose to live this high up. The surrounding mountains may look good but in general the place is a hole. Unemployment is rife too. I can't understand why anyone would willing come to live here. I'm begining to think why I willingly came here.
There's one street that has a couple of cafes that look almost ok. After avoiding food poisoning we head back to our hovel. Oh great, 3 cheery looking Irish are watching the Green Mile on tv at full blast. I fall asleep to the screams of a guy being burnt alive. Oh the joy.
That's it. I give in. That morning we leave and pay up. Ok the place was incredibly cheap, around three pounds each but I rather stay somewhere I can get some rest. We check into a lovely colonial three star hotel. Far better. From the Sheraton, to a hovel, to this happy medium. Way more expensive but worth it.
The streets near our new place are slightly improved steep cobbled affairs but still it's an absolute wrench walking anywhere.
One thing that does grate walking round is th amount of tourists taking photos of cute Bolivian children. Kids hang around waiting to be photographed for the equivalent of about 15p. Quite often they never get it and no matter how intrusive some photographers were they would not part with cash. It was sad.
We hit the net as we're short of something to do and I feel ropey as hell. This is when an american I'd avoided earlier in the day came in. He asked me if I'd been in jail with him recently. He then began going into some bull story about having nowhere to stay before I stopped him dead, 'You want money don't ya?'. 'Yes', he replied. With a wad of cash in my pocket I gave him an honest looking answer,'Sorry mate but I only carry exactly what I need when I go out'. I think if they're willing to lie to me then I have no problem in returning the favour.
I need to get out of here. Next day we leave for the small town of Copacabana on the shores of one of the biggest and highest lakes in the world, Lake Titicaca. Surely that must be better than the big smoke of La Paz. What? It's actually higher in Copacabana than La Paz? What am I doing here?
Friday, November 30, 2007
A day in Lima
Due to one of our flights being non-existent we get to have a look around Lima for the day whilst stopping at the 5-star Sheraton Hotel. One thing is for sure, the food here is unbelievably good. As all meals are paid for by LAN Peru we absolutely gorge ourselves on everything possible. The best buffet I've ever had. I think I was actually making myself ill by eating soo much but I soldiered on. A Peruvian favourite is Ceviche. It's raw fish in lemon and chili, very nice. I thought if I was going to have it then best to get it from somewhere I'm less likely to throw my internal organs out at. We also got a complimentary Pisco Sour, the national drink of Peru. It contains Pisco, lime and beaten raw egg white. This may sound awful but it's actually pretty good.
Lima, however, is not. The Sheraton is in the grey and faded looking downtown area of Lima. We soon realise why there's a free bus from the hotel to the more upmarket Miraflores area, and why everyone who leaves the hotel get's straight into a taxi. From the taxi to the hotel we passed many a crumbling box-like building but walking around is worse. It reminds me of China a bit as people are staring at us again. It feels a bit uneasy to walk about. Unemployment is very high here and it seems people just wander the streets in search of something to do. Almost immediately we see some mentalist shouting and attempting to chew another guy's shoulder. 'Excellent', I thought.
There are some decent looking buildings but it just feels like we're on show walking about here. We find refuge on a set of stairs for a while. A Peruvian lady begins to chat to us and for once it's not some ploy for us to buy something. She tells us how it's a bit unsafe around the center and Miraflores is a much better area. She often sees tourists bags go into the hands of Peruvians on many of the buses too. I really can't be bothered being in another dodgepot town. At least Rio had some beauty about it.
The Sheraton had a swimming pool, sauna, gym, a casino and a shopping arcade. I now see why, you wouldn't want to leave!
Just stuffing my face was enough for the day. We even ate off silver platters for lunch. Aswell as chicken that was served to us on a proper sword!
After spotting more blokes pissing against trees and the cold begin to set in we head back to stuff ourselves and prepare for the late night flight to La Paz.
This may be the capital of Peru but I sure hope it's not the best Peru has to offer or these next few weeks will be grim indeed. Miraflores is supposed to be a much improved area and we'll find that out upon our return. For now things aren't looking great.
I was not looking forward to the next part of the trip much either. La Paz, the capital of Bolivia. The highest capital in the world at 3800 metres above sea level. We land at 3am, this in itself is not something to look forward to, and the altitude is supposed to make you feel pretty awful. Just how awful I didn't know.
Lima, however, is not. The Sheraton is in the grey and faded looking downtown area of Lima. We soon realise why there's a free bus from the hotel to the more upmarket Miraflores area, and why everyone who leaves the hotel get's straight into a taxi. From the taxi to the hotel we passed many a crumbling box-like building but walking around is worse. It reminds me of China a bit as people are staring at us again. It feels a bit uneasy to walk about. Unemployment is very high here and it seems people just wander the streets in search of something to do. Almost immediately we see some mentalist shouting and attempting to chew another guy's shoulder. 'Excellent', I thought.
There are some decent looking buildings but it just feels like we're on show walking about here. We find refuge on a set of stairs for a while. A Peruvian lady begins to chat to us and for once it's not some ploy for us to buy something. She tells us how it's a bit unsafe around the center and Miraflores is a much better area. She often sees tourists bags go into the hands of Peruvians on many of the buses too. I really can't be bothered being in another dodgepot town. At least Rio had some beauty about it.
The Sheraton had a swimming pool, sauna, gym, a casino and a shopping arcade. I now see why, you wouldn't want to leave!
Just stuffing my face was enough for the day. We even ate off silver platters for lunch. Aswell as chicken that was served to us on a proper sword!
After spotting more blokes pissing against trees and the cold begin to set in we head back to stuff ourselves and prepare for the late night flight to La Paz.
This may be the capital of Peru but I sure hope it's not the best Peru has to offer or these next few weeks will be grim indeed. Miraflores is supposed to be a much improved area and we'll find that out upon our return. For now things aren't looking great.
I was not looking forward to the next part of the trip much either. La Paz, the capital of Bolivia. The highest capital in the world at 3800 metres above sea level. We land at 3am, this in itself is not something to look forward to, and the altitude is supposed to make you feel pretty awful. Just how awful I didn't know.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
More sugar
After hearing about the Finnish couple getting robbed we were a bit wary the next day. Luckily for them they didn't have much taken, Hannu's glasses being the most important and most useless to the thief. Saying that I doubt a Brazilian mugger will find much use with an autobiography of Fidel Castro written in Finnish! They also told us how much of a joke the police were. They knew there was nothing they could do but it was comical nontheless. When they found out the couple were from Finland they instantly brought up pictures of Finnish chicks on the internet to show Hannu. Amusing but not greatly helpful.
That day we walked half an hour or so to the Sugar Loaf mountain with the Aussie we'd met, Kai. After the Finnish incident we were a bit spooked so left our cameras at the hostel. When we got there of course everyone had really expensive cameras out. Ah well.
Great views from the top, once we took two high cable cars to get there. Not my favourite mode of transport. Down at the bottom was a nice small beach but unfortunately the water had rubbish in it so we didn't venture in. The other day at Ipanema the water was absolutely freezing anyway.
We strolled around a nice area looking for a beach we'd seen on the map. After shortly visiting a grotty looking one we moved on and soon realised that the good looking beach was within an army base. An army base with a beach, that's Brazil for you. One thing of note about Brazilian beaches is that they're not topless like in Spain, for instance. The Brazilians seem to counter this by wearing swimsuits that resemble pieces of illuminous string and nothing more. There really should be a law in place, or somekind of judge, to determine who is allowed to wear such garments though.
Another good meal at one of the popular weigh food places was had with the Finns and Kai that night. The next day we spent mainly on the local buses. Getting to the bus station to buy Sao Paulo tickets, situated right near a favella, was a bit dodgy but ok. Some areas in Rio are plain disgusting. Most areas are just simply run down.
We'd heard about a favella tour that tourists go on, we didn't but was told about it. They have electricity and even internet cafes in the favellas, mainly because they tap into the electric cables running above. There also used to be a Macdonalds in one favella but it got looted soo badly that they pulled out. It's now a Bob's Burger, a Brazilian chain. The whole favella in question is run by one drug baron. The Police don't enter, they just sit around the edge with machine guns in hand. Inside the favella drug markets are common. A woman at our hostel told us of drug stalls selling bags of cocaine the size of pillows. Tourists instantly get busted once they leave apparently.
In the afternoon us and Kai went to a tremendously long beach an hour out from Botofogo, where we were staying. It was more upmarket and a lot tidier than Ipanema or Copacabana. The rip was ferocious though. We swam in the slightly warmer water but it was an immense struggle just to try and get back to shore, about 5 metres away. Ridiculous. Needless to say after that a life guard put up danger signs. Nice.
A caiphrinia by the beach as the sun went down finished off the day nicely. But we still had to get back. The bus driving in Rio is the worst I've ever experienced. Horrendous does't even come close. They floor it on the open road overtaking pretty much everything and yanking the bus round bends like they're driving a Mini. When we hit very heavy traffic they constantly rev the engine and lurch forward every few seconds at full pelt just to get a few metres further down the road. And gears, well, I really don't know if anyone showed these guys how they work. After about 2 and a half hours we got back feeling sick and with neck ache!
Rio was made good because of the good people we met, making it much safer to get out and about. The Brazilians are fairly friendly and the beaches are quite decent and a good respite from the grime of the city. The main centro is quite flash, mainly business and shops orientated but it's not far from the contrast of the ramshackle favellas. The gap between living standards is enormous. Where we stayed felt safe enough but other areas had an air of something bad could happen and I didn't like it at all. I don't want to feel like I need to be thinking about my posessions or cash all the time, you can't relax.
All in all Rio is a very beautiful and a very ugly place. I'm glad I've been but I can't see me being in a rush to return. There are far better places to be that are far safer and more enjoyable, Buenos Aires beats it hands down. Out of Brazil we go, after another longish bus ride to Sao Paulo. About 8 hours or so, made slower due to a couple of accidents. We had no time to visit Sao Paulo as our flight left the day after we arrived so I decided to live in comfort that evening at a Best Western near the airport. Costly but worth it now and again.
Next day we misjudged our flight time horrendously meaning we got to the airport at 13:00 for a 21:30 flight! A horrible concrete airport didn't help. Luckily we did have time to sort out a mix up which stopped our bags being moved onto a plane bound for Los Angeles. Still it was odd that there was no mention of our connecting flight to La Paz, Bolivia. After a long day of waiting around we finally flew into Lima, Peru, to get our connecting flight to La Paz. What flight? It didn't exist. Luckily LAN Peru put us on the equally late flight, to land in La Paz at 3am, the next day and put us up a hotel for the evening and next day in Lima. The five star Sheraton, all expenses paid. Lovely.
That day we walked half an hour or so to the Sugar Loaf mountain with the Aussie we'd met, Kai. After the Finnish incident we were a bit spooked so left our cameras at the hostel. When we got there of course everyone had really expensive cameras out. Ah well.
Great views from the top, once we took two high cable cars to get there. Not my favourite mode of transport. Down at the bottom was a nice small beach but unfortunately the water had rubbish in it so we didn't venture in. The other day at Ipanema the water was absolutely freezing anyway.
We strolled around a nice area looking for a beach we'd seen on the map. After shortly visiting a grotty looking one we moved on and soon realised that the good looking beach was within an army base. An army base with a beach, that's Brazil for you. One thing of note about Brazilian beaches is that they're not topless like in Spain, for instance. The Brazilians seem to counter this by wearing swimsuits that resemble pieces of illuminous string and nothing more. There really should be a law in place, or somekind of judge, to determine who is allowed to wear such garments though.
Another good meal at one of the popular weigh food places was had with the Finns and Kai that night. The next day we spent mainly on the local buses. Getting to the bus station to buy Sao Paulo tickets, situated right near a favella, was a bit dodgy but ok. Some areas in Rio are plain disgusting. Most areas are just simply run down.
We'd heard about a favella tour that tourists go on, we didn't but was told about it. They have electricity and even internet cafes in the favellas, mainly because they tap into the electric cables running above. There also used to be a Macdonalds in one favella but it got looted soo badly that they pulled out. It's now a Bob's Burger, a Brazilian chain. The whole favella in question is run by one drug baron. The Police don't enter, they just sit around the edge with machine guns in hand. Inside the favella drug markets are common. A woman at our hostel told us of drug stalls selling bags of cocaine the size of pillows. Tourists instantly get busted once they leave apparently.
In the afternoon us and Kai went to a tremendously long beach an hour out from Botofogo, where we were staying. It was more upmarket and a lot tidier than Ipanema or Copacabana. The rip was ferocious though. We swam in the slightly warmer water but it was an immense struggle just to try and get back to shore, about 5 metres away. Ridiculous. Needless to say after that a life guard put up danger signs. Nice.
A caiphrinia by the beach as the sun went down finished off the day nicely. But we still had to get back. The bus driving in Rio is the worst I've ever experienced. Horrendous does't even come close. They floor it on the open road overtaking pretty much everything and yanking the bus round bends like they're driving a Mini. When we hit very heavy traffic they constantly rev the engine and lurch forward every few seconds at full pelt just to get a few metres further down the road. And gears, well, I really don't know if anyone showed these guys how they work. After about 2 and a half hours we got back feeling sick and with neck ache!
Rio was made good because of the good people we met, making it much safer to get out and about. The Brazilians are fairly friendly and the beaches are quite decent and a good respite from the grime of the city. The main centro is quite flash, mainly business and shops orientated but it's not far from the contrast of the ramshackle favellas. The gap between living standards is enormous. Where we stayed felt safe enough but other areas had an air of something bad could happen and I didn't like it at all. I don't want to feel like I need to be thinking about my posessions or cash all the time, you can't relax.
All in all Rio is a very beautiful and a very ugly place. I'm glad I've been but I can't see me being in a rush to return. There are far better places to be that are far safer and more enjoyable, Buenos Aires beats it hands down. Out of Brazil we go, after another longish bus ride to Sao Paulo. About 8 hours or so, made slower due to a couple of accidents. We had no time to visit Sao Paulo as our flight left the day after we arrived so I decided to live in comfort that evening at a Best Western near the airport. Costly but worth it now and again.
Next day we misjudged our flight time horrendously meaning we got to the airport at 13:00 for a 21:30 flight! A horrible concrete airport didn't help. Luckily we did have time to sort out a mix up which stopped our bags being moved onto a plane bound for Los Angeles. Still it was odd that there was no mention of our connecting flight to La Paz, Bolivia. After a long day of waiting around we finally flew into Lima, Peru, to get our connecting flight to La Paz. What flight? It didn't exist. Luckily LAN Peru put us on the equally late flight, to land in La Paz at 3am, the next day and put us up a hotel for the evening and next day in Lima. The five star Sheraton, all expenses paid. Lovely.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Rio, give me some sugar
A 22 hour bus ride from Puerto Iguazu, Agrentina to Rio, Brazil. Not a great experience but had to be done as the air fare was horrendously expensive.
10 minutes on the bus and we were in Brazil. Once customs was seen to it was straight through hours of rolling hills and green fields looking more like a sunny day in England than I ever thought Brazil would be. Newly farmed fields, of I presume sugar beat as that's what a lot of cars run on here, were everywhere. As are Volkswagon Beetles and Campervans, the latter used as Ambulances in some places.
We passed more jungle type areas before night drew in and a terrible storm that came with it. The movie on the bus was Apocolypto and it couldn't be more apt. Shame it was in Portugese but I got the jist. As the rain hammered the bus and lightening struck fields close by I'll freely admit I was uncomfortable.
After numerous police checkpoints and random stops we arrive in a run down concrete looking Sao Paulo. We dropped a few people off and carried on, it didn't look like the place you'd want to arrive at 4am, or 4pm for that matter.
We arrived in sunny Rio at 10am after a few days of torrential rain here. Our hostel was pretty nifty, our room had a painting of the famous Christ the Redeemer on the wall. We even had a tiny balcony where we could see Christ from. From this moment forth we renamed him Bob. Much easier I thought.
Brazil is a huge country. When the Spanish invaded South America they struck a deal with the Portugese to share the land. Spain got what is now Argentina, Chile, Bolivia, Peru and so on, whereas Portugal got Brazil. It's a fair deal when you see it on a map.
Brazil also took the largest amount of African slaves on the continent. Unfortunately there were too many and now huge favellas, rat warrens of shanty towns, exist throughout the city.
Also, for us just getting into the swing of speaking and reading Spanish coming to Brazil was hard. Even words that look the same here are pronounced differently. It was a bit of a struggle but we were told that in most places you can get away with speaking Spanish, which did work sometimes.
There's no denying that Brazil and Argentina are worlds apart. Rio, especially the outskirts, is a very dirty, gritty and ugly place. This is also the most dangerous place I'd ever been in in my life. Not only that it's way more expensive, double that of Argentina.
But still the bay outside our hostel containing the famous Sugar Loaf mountain is beautiful. Shame you can't swim in Botofogo bay as the water is polluted. Nice.
Immediately we booked to go and watch a football match at the Maracana stadium that evening. It had to be done, especially after missing out in Argentina. The game was a dull affair with little in the way of Brazilian flair, no wonder all their best players play in Europe. But the night was good and two other couples from our hostel went who turned out to be really cool people. It was part of a tour of sorts as we'd heard dodgy things about the area around the stadium.
After a few beers it was back on the bus for the half hour journey to the hostel. I was a bit drunk by this point and had already foregone the toilet at half time for the bar, it was too busy. Problem was at full time we had to leave on the bus straight away, I was busting. Another thing about Rio is at night traffic doesn't stop at red lights. It's too dangerous and cars and buses have been attacked and robbed. I couldn't contain myself any longer and had to declare to the guide I was dying! The bus immediately pulled over at a busy intersection and let me out to piss up near the traffic light, I didn't make it to a tree. I felt a bit of an idiot stood there at the side of a busy road but that soon passed when I remembered why the bus doesn't normally stop. I apologised profusely to the 20 or so people on the bus who seemed to find it all highly amusing. Why do I do this to myself I don't know, and of all the places.
Off to see Bob the next day with an English couple and an Aussie guy we got chatting to at breakfast. It was a Sunday so the place was packed, as I'm sure it is most days. After a 20min steep funicular, train thing, ride to near the top you've a couple of options. Walk the stairs for about 2 minutes to the top or take the lift. Yes, lift. Once off the lift you get on a set of escolators. Yes, escolators right next to one of the most famous sights in the world. Odd. We walked.
The views over Rio are nothing short of tremendous. You can see the main beaches of Copacabana, Ipanema and the one near us, Botofogo. You can also see the many lush islands dotted around and the airport built out in the sea. Very Hong Kong like. Except you can also see the biggest favella in the world. It's huge. It doesn't take much to spot the many others as they're usually hugging hillsides just above town.
The other great sight is the odd shaped Sugar Loaf mountain and cable car to the top, that's for another day. Everything looked like a toy town, the Maracana stadium a Subbuteo set, from up there. It looked a lot better than down on the street.
We headed back to get some beach stuff and hit Ipenema and Copacabana. A nice place but it did remind me of the Costa del Sol, except the beach had more rubbish on it. Warnings about Copacabana had been heeded as we left our camera at the hostel and just had enough money for some classicly strong Caiprihnia cocktails on Copacabana. We felt good as there was 5 of us and were getting a bit cocky about how unsafe the place was supposed to be. Still there was always an edge to being there. Whilst sipping drinks a group of Brazilians came over and performed some unbelievable Caperwhera(not spelt right surely). This was an African martial art that was brought over by the slaves. It was banned by the Portugese but the Africans claimed it was a form of dancing and slightly modified it. It's impressive stuff and worth checking out. These guys would really make breaking your spine look good.
After a good, pay for the weight of your food, restaurant we got the public bus at night back. Two things not advised in the Lonely Planet. 1. Walking by Copacabana at night. 2. Getting the public buses at night, this is where a lot of muggings take place. But as there was a group of us slightly modified by booze we felt fine. I was feeling a lot more relaxed about Rio. From all that we'd heard we'd seen no evidence of anything dodgy. Until we hear the next morning about the Finnish couple in our hostel getting robbed in broad daylight at Copacabana at the same time we were there. Hmmm
10 minutes on the bus and we were in Brazil. Once customs was seen to it was straight through hours of rolling hills and green fields looking more like a sunny day in England than I ever thought Brazil would be. Newly farmed fields, of I presume sugar beat as that's what a lot of cars run on here, were everywhere. As are Volkswagon Beetles and Campervans, the latter used as Ambulances in some places.
We passed more jungle type areas before night drew in and a terrible storm that came with it. The movie on the bus was Apocolypto and it couldn't be more apt. Shame it was in Portugese but I got the jist. As the rain hammered the bus and lightening struck fields close by I'll freely admit I was uncomfortable.
After numerous police checkpoints and random stops we arrive in a run down concrete looking Sao Paulo. We dropped a few people off and carried on, it didn't look like the place you'd want to arrive at 4am, or 4pm for that matter.
We arrived in sunny Rio at 10am after a few days of torrential rain here. Our hostel was pretty nifty, our room had a painting of the famous Christ the Redeemer on the wall. We even had a tiny balcony where we could see Christ from. From this moment forth we renamed him Bob. Much easier I thought.
Brazil is a huge country. When the Spanish invaded South America they struck a deal with the Portugese to share the land. Spain got what is now Argentina, Chile, Bolivia, Peru and so on, whereas Portugal got Brazil. It's a fair deal when you see it on a map.
Brazil also took the largest amount of African slaves on the continent. Unfortunately there were too many and now huge favellas, rat warrens of shanty towns, exist throughout the city.
Also, for us just getting into the swing of speaking and reading Spanish coming to Brazil was hard. Even words that look the same here are pronounced differently. It was a bit of a struggle but we were told that in most places you can get away with speaking Spanish, which did work sometimes.
There's no denying that Brazil and Argentina are worlds apart. Rio, especially the outskirts, is a very dirty, gritty and ugly place. This is also the most dangerous place I'd ever been in in my life. Not only that it's way more expensive, double that of Argentina.
But still the bay outside our hostel containing the famous Sugar Loaf mountain is beautiful. Shame you can't swim in Botofogo bay as the water is polluted. Nice.
Immediately we booked to go and watch a football match at the Maracana stadium that evening. It had to be done, especially after missing out in Argentina. The game was a dull affair with little in the way of Brazilian flair, no wonder all their best players play in Europe. But the night was good and two other couples from our hostel went who turned out to be really cool people. It was part of a tour of sorts as we'd heard dodgy things about the area around the stadium.
After a few beers it was back on the bus for the half hour journey to the hostel. I was a bit drunk by this point and had already foregone the toilet at half time for the bar, it was too busy. Problem was at full time we had to leave on the bus straight away, I was busting. Another thing about Rio is at night traffic doesn't stop at red lights. It's too dangerous and cars and buses have been attacked and robbed. I couldn't contain myself any longer and had to declare to the guide I was dying! The bus immediately pulled over at a busy intersection and let me out to piss up near the traffic light, I didn't make it to a tree. I felt a bit of an idiot stood there at the side of a busy road but that soon passed when I remembered why the bus doesn't normally stop. I apologised profusely to the 20 or so people on the bus who seemed to find it all highly amusing. Why do I do this to myself I don't know, and of all the places.
Off to see Bob the next day with an English couple and an Aussie guy we got chatting to at breakfast. It was a Sunday so the place was packed, as I'm sure it is most days. After a 20min steep funicular, train thing, ride to near the top you've a couple of options. Walk the stairs for about 2 minutes to the top or take the lift. Yes, lift. Once off the lift you get on a set of escolators. Yes, escolators right next to one of the most famous sights in the world. Odd. We walked.
The views over Rio are nothing short of tremendous. You can see the main beaches of Copacabana, Ipanema and the one near us, Botofogo. You can also see the many lush islands dotted around and the airport built out in the sea. Very Hong Kong like. Except you can also see the biggest favella in the world. It's huge. It doesn't take much to spot the many others as they're usually hugging hillsides just above town.
The other great sight is the odd shaped Sugar Loaf mountain and cable car to the top, that's for another day. Everything looked like a toy town, the Maracana stadium a Subbuteo set, from up there. It looked a lot better than down on the street.
We headed back to get some beach stuff and hit Ipenema and Copacabana. A nice place but it did remind me of the Costa del Sol, except the beach had more rubbish on it. Warnings about Copacabana had been heeded as we left our camera at the hostel and just had enough money for some classicly strong Caiprihnia cocktails on Copacabana. We felt good as there was 5 of us and were getting a bit cocky about how unsafe the place was supposed to be. Still there was always an edge to being there. Whilst sipping drinks a group of Brazilians came over and performed some unbelievable Caperwhera(not spelt right surely). This was an African martial art that was brought over by the slaves. It was banned by the Portugese but the Africans claimed it was a form of dancing and slightly modified it. It's impressive stuff and worth checking out. These guys would really make breaking your spine look good.
After a good, pay for the weight of your food, restaurant we got the public bus at night back. Two things not advised in the Lonely Planet. 1. Walking by Copacabana at night. 2. Getting the public buses at night, this is where a lot of muggings take place. But as there was a group of us slightly modified by booze we felt fine. I was feeling a lot more relaxed about Rio. From all that we'd heard we'd seen no evidence of anything dodgy. Until we hear the next morning about the Finnish couple in our hostel getting robbed in broad daylight at Copacabana at the same time we were there. Hmmm
Sunday, November 25, 2007
To the devil's throat
Avoiding a 22 hour bus ride we buy a flight to Iguazu falls. More precisley Puerto Iguazu, the cool jungle-ish town on the Argentinean side of the falls. If you haven't heard of Iguazu then you should. They're some of the biggest waterfalls in the world and have somewhere in the region of 272 falls within one area.
Landing here is a sharp contrast from Buenos Aires. It's a laid back tropical town and is very humid. Our hostel, run by a punk rocking Argie/Brasilian, is beyond cool. Hammocks in the jungle garden out the back with homebaked chocolate cake and bread for breakfast.
The Iguazu Falls are within a huge national park outside of town. The border between Brazil and Argentina is actually somewhere in the water near the falls and you can cross to Brazil to view the falls over a nearby bridge, we didn't have the time. The Argentina side allows you to get right up close to the huge falls via boardwalks across vast rivers. It's amazing. You walk right up to the edge of most falls, the Gargantua del Diablo, aka the 'Devils throat', is the most impressive. A huge volume of water piles down here and falls all around dropping from lush green cliffs. It's loud, very loud. And you get soaked, just what you want in the baking heat, but it doesn't take long to dry out.
This has to be another one of those must-see places in the world and seeing it through Argentina seems much better than the more expensive and more run down Brasilian side.
It's difficult to describe the whole thing as it's massive. I'll have to get some photos on here when I get on a decent pc. One thing I do remember is the constant rainbows from the vast amount of spray covering the whole area. It's a hell of a sight, and sound.
That night we went out to another typical Argentinean grill for some great steak with a woman from Israel. As it turns out Israelies love coming to South America because it's soo cheap. They're also big fans of Eastenders and Keeping up appearences. Odd.
After a couple of hours of trying to be persuaded to visit Israel we head back to our jungle hostel. Besides, tomorrow we have an almighty 24 hour bus journey to Rio de Janeiro!
This also means the end of Argentina for us. For me this is one of the best countries we've visited so far. It's friendly, cheap, easy to get around, has amazing food and drink and is incredibly diverse. It's also well set up, has great cities and huge national parks. I'd just come on holiday here for a couple of months. One day I will.
Landing here is a sharp contrast from Buenos Aires. It's a laid back tropical town and is very humid. Our hostel, run by a punk rocking Argie/Brasilian, is beyond cool. Hammocks in the jungle garden out the back with homebaked chocolate cake and bread for breakfast.
The Iguazu Falls are within a huge national park outside of town. The border between Brazil and Argentina is actually somewhere in the water near the falls and you can cross to Brazil to view the falls over a nearby bridge, we didn't have the time. The Argentina side allows you to get right up close to the huge falls via boardwalks across vast rivers. It's amazing. You walk right up to the edge of most falls, the Gargantua del Diablo, aka the 'Devils throat', is the most impressive. A huge volume of water piles down here and falls all around dropping from lush green cliffs. It's loud, very loud. And you get soaked, just what you want in the baking heat, but it doesn't take long to dry out.
This has to be another one of those must-see places in the world and seeing it through Argentina seems much better than the more expensive and more run down Brasilian side.
It's difficult to describe the whole thing as it's massive. I'll have to get some photos on here when I get on a decent pc. One thing I do remember is the constant rainbows from the vast amount of spray covering the whole area. It's a hell of a sight, and sound.
That night we went out to another typical Argentinean grill for some great steak with a woman from Israel. As it turns out Israelies love coming to South America because it's soo cheap. They're also big fans of Eastenders and Keeping up appearences. Odd.
After a couple of hours of trying to be persuaded to visit Israel we head back to our jungle hostel. Besides, tomorrow we have an almighty 24 hour bus journey to Rio de Janeiro!
This also means the end of Argentina for us. For me this is one of the best countries we've visited so far. It's friendly, cheap, easy to get around, has amazing food and drink and is incredibly diverse. It's also well set up, has great cities and huge national parks. I'd just come on holiday here for a couple of months. One day I will.
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