City of God, Rio de Janeiro

Now there are cities, and then there are the big phat whoppers - super suburban sprawls that are sure to have everything your mind could possibly hope to conjure, & a little more. I've bounced around quite a bit in my tall taled sprouting years, and still no place is yet to hold me. It's only now I feel I've hit the jackpot. The coolest city on the fucking planet, in possibly the most hippest country in the western hemisphere!! There are not many places that spark up an emotional imaginative presence more than Rio de Janeiro; its reputation is almost mythical. How wrong I was thinking an entire year in Latin America was enough...I still have a whole monster sized continent left to explore!! A true beauty - hardly the beast. Of what little I've seen thus far, Brazil is coming on as my most unexpected revelation to date; and I've began to fret about what I might now miss out on. There's not much left to do but make the most of it.

Rio de Janeiro from Christ the Redeemer

Brazilians say: that God created the world in six days, and the seventh he devoted to Rio. On first inspection, it can't be far off the truth. After an agonisingly long 24 hour bus ride all the way from Foz do Iguaçu, we finally pulled into the mega city itself. I was well over the crammed 'comfort' by that point, having spent a majority of the journey with a chunkers bulging feet near my face, on top of a constant odour drifting down the aisle from the increasingly toxic tasting baño. I'd met a couple of cool guys along the way, and once off the bus we all hopped into a taxi to split the costs till our individual accommodations. This was more like it; I felt I was back in the real South America - the one I'd been missing. Frantic traffic raced down the narrow streets like an inner city race track; homeless bums hauled their mattresses from one retreat to another; and the heat outside cut through the taxis air conditioner so much as to deem it senseless. I was lost within a few minutes. What a tangled mess. Then between the high walls of another cluster of apartment blocks I noticed the undisputed symbol of the city; Christ the Redeemer, standing tall on the tippy top of Corcovado Mountain. I still couldn't believe I was actually here. We dropped two of the lads off at their lodgings in Botafogo, and continued to the second stop some five minutes further on in Copacabana. As I was stuck with the translating (of which I was completely incompetent), once the second deal was all settled I hopped back in the cab and pointed out my way...errr, much to the unexpected surprise of the driver. I'd told him we had to make three stops in total, but this obviously got lost somewhere down the line. It was only another two or three minutes down the road but of course he managed to stooge me. I got hit for another 10 reais, and then he tried to conjure up a bit more for tips. Shit mate, give it a rest. No wonder so many people come home from this continent cluelessly robbed or bankrupt.

The hostel I'd fixed up for myself was a bit of a last minute grab, but as it turned out was quite the score. This was the first time I'd had to book accommodation for the entire trip, much to my disgust - but I wasn't too keen on lugging my gear from suburb to suburb searching for a place to crash in this city. The hostel was new, so everything was sparkly; and there was a cool outside deck area to chill the night away. My first port of call was to visit the beach. Oh, how I missed the beach!! Welcome to Copacabana boulevard!! Woohooo!! I couldn't help hum the cheesy musical theme song to myself as I wandered along the bike track, watching the locals play fresco ball & work out on the free beach side gym equipment. Every one was black & jacked. The white boy here finally built up the courage to take his top off, and instantly felt like I stood out like a set of headlights on a dark night. Heck, I didn't care...THE OCEAN!!! Ahhh, how a quick dip can make all the difference. After an hour or so I toddled back to the hostel; still with quite the paranoid qualities of a new kid on the block. You hear so much about the dangers of Rio that you come to settle on them as the undisputed truth. In the next few days I'd come to discover that this city packed so full of wonders, holds no greater threat than any other large metropolitan of the greater world.

Sand Castles on Copacabana

I think I'd forgot to mention...it was AUSTRALIA DAY!!! What a place to have spent it. I didn't get a chance to listen to the countdown (the first time I've missed it in about 8 years), but we did get to party it up well & proper with a few other Australians at the hostel, as well as a holiday maker from São Paulo and a couple of Poms. The caipirinhas really do go down a treat in this climate. Such a good way to start the night. So after many drinks & an expensive pay by weight buffet, we all piled into a collectevo and made for the crazy clubs in Lapa. The streets were alive. Drums rang through the night; food vendors sold beers and all kinds of BBQ'ed meat. The first time I layed eyes on the monumental Arcos da Lapa I was well pissed; barefoot and mesmerised. I simply followed the crowd. We ended up in some quite plush looking bar, which appeared to be only playing endless swing for revellers simply wanting a few quiet drinks with friends - yet as it turned out this place was a multi-level, something for all mega-club!! Holy shit, I thought Buenos Aires held the key to chaos. This place was incredible!! Everyone seemed to know all the dances; I just followed along as best I could and then added in my own stupid hand commotions. While this Dutch guy we met was greatly succeeding working his magic on the local girls, our English mates were having a bit more of a struggle. One of them just wouldn't take no for an answer. It got a little funny, then just got ridiculous.  Then the other told me he was planning on catapulting himself onto the stage. I kind of wanted to see what would happen, yet then again I didn't want this show to have to come to a stand still. Some old swinger dressed in a white suite & hat was killing it up there!! The live band was phenomenal!! Dancers, bell shakers & percussionists ruled the minds of us all - they had us in the palm of their hand. We danced until I could dance no more, or at least until EricBanas bowels were due to give way. We cabbed it back to Copacabana and called it a night.

The Arcos da Lapa by day

I had to change hostels the following day. I was kind of spewing about that. For one I was as hungover as a bitch, and secondly my new hostel kind of sucked. You could only really fit two people within the floor space of the dorms at any one time. No room to move. And downstairs the communal area was hardly inviting. Still there were some alright people with whom I managed to mingle with. That day was filled out in practically the same way as the one before; more time spent lapping around on Copacabana beach, and sorting out my life for the next few weeks (well trying to). One thing I knew I had to do however, was to jump on board for the football game later that night. It was to be a cracker apparently - Fluminense vs Botafogo, two of the most popular clubs in Rio, and for me I can't recall ever having been to a live soccer match in my entire life. Good place to start. Once collected from the hostel we were all chauffeured through the city to some giant stadium on the outskirts of town. It was a tad unsettling at first as we were immediately engulfed by a mob of passionately boozing fans. Apparently you can't drink once inside, so they tend to make the most of it pre-game.

A street full of Fluminense fans

To our advantage, it was a good thing our group had picked the right colours for the occasion; the green, white & maroon statement of Fluminense draped from every building, and over every body. After some beers, and a bite to eat we grabbed our tickets and headed in for the kick off. It was quite the sight on entering the stadium itself. Although not so packed out as I would have liked, the cheer squad were already in full force, belting drums & waving enormous flags with an indisputable charisma. When the game got started, they only further picked up the pace. So as it goes, when you come to these sorts of events there is only really one thing you have to hope for - and that's goals. What an uproar!! 'GOOOOLLLLLLL!!!!' The call excitedly rang over the top of a frenzied pack!! Fluminense had scored first and the celebration was deafening. Even when Botafogo replied with an equaliser, the Fluminense cheer squad only seemed to provoke an ever greater racket as to counter the opposition. What an atmosphere!! It was a great experience to say the least. The forever chanting chorus of voices rattled through my brain for the remainder of that evening. I have an inclining that I'll be back for the 2014 World Cup next year!! Anyone keen to tag along??...Hell yeaaa!!

Fluminense vs Botafogo

I came up with bit of a random idea the following morning. I checked out the map, and found it feasible to walk from my hostel here in Copacabana to the top of Pão de Açucar, another one of Riosmost iconic symbols. When I mentioned it to the guys at the front desk they though I was nuts, but I was sure I'd read somewhere that it was more than possible. The walk itself didn't prove such a problem; through one of the tunnels and along some sleepy residential streets - I'd reached the base of the mountains within 45 minutes or so. Then I had to make a decision. Do I give the Pão itself a crack in its entirety, or do I climb the smaller hill and then catch the cable car the rest of the way to the top?? Not a hard decision when you're a tight ass adrenaline junkie like myself. Up we go. To begin with the walk was rather pleasant & cruisy; there were lovely views back along the coast, and many runners were using the wide track for some Monday morning recreation. I had no real clue as to where I was going, but eventually the big track faded out - round the back of some cement cylinder and all of a sudden I was on my own. This was rad. A scrubby jungle hiking trail in the heart of one of the most populated cities in the world!! Who could ask for more. I'll tell you what though, it was hot!! From here on in it was practically straight up the entire way. I had to pass over a number of large granite slabs which sloped gracefully down the verticals of the mountain. At times these were a tad wet, and proved a little sketchy in my worn out Connie's. But for the most part, I was flying. It was great to be out exercising in such a beautiful setting. Cargo ships could be spotted all around the bay, and the complexity of the city began to take shape from high above. Such tranquillity...

Climbing Pão de Açucar

That was until I hit the main objective...a ten to fifteen meter section of steep crack ridden rock, laughing back in my face. A sign explained the situation : 'WARNING!! This section requires climbing gear, do not attempt to climb it if you are not PREPARED and PROPERLY EQUIPPED!!' Errr...well now what?? It didn't look all so bad; how hard could it be?? I've done a ton of free climbing in the past before, and felt pretty confident I could still knock it off. So I gave it a shot. The first section was easy; just up a couple of ledges with plenty of things to grip on to, but it wasn't until I got to a tricky section with a bulging boulder that I started to seriously doubt if I could finish the climb. There was a metal bolt drilled into the wall at this point, and I felt I could use that to some advantage. As it turned out I think it only made matters worse. My fingers got stuck when trying to reach for other holds, and committing to anything at this point was becoming a real life or death gamble. Some of the parts were a little glazed with moister also, which didn't make securing my feet any easier, so I thought I'd give it a shot bare foot. That was idiotic. It only cut my toes to shreds. I was near on turning back by now - I was tired, thirsty & shaken up from the seriousness of the would be tumble; but something in me said to give it one final shot. Something different?? Alright fuck it!!...Eiiikkk, alright so now I really was stuck in the deep end!! There was no turning back from here. I remember someone telling me once that you have to be careful what you get yourself into when free climbing cause you can reach a certain point where you can neither go up nor down. I felt like this was now. It was a long drop below. Never do this at home kids. The only thing I had left to do was put my faith in a tree root...please don't be flimsy...heck it was pretty flimsy!! Quick, quick, quick!! Got it!!! With the remainder of my arm born energy I pulled myself up onto the ledge and prayed with a deep cry it was to be the last. I was spent. I couldn't believe how stupid that was and how close I'd come to fucking it up!! If anyone reads this with plans to do the same...don't blame me when you fall and crack you skull open. It's not the best idea after all. But hey...you save yourself 25 bucks.

Rio de Janeiro from Pão de Açucar

By the time I'd reached the top of the mountain I was dripping like a summer storm. God knows what people were thinking...I was covered in mud and looked like I'd just ran a marathon. It's hard work catching a cable car hey!! I jumped a fence that said not to, and took a seat with a fantastic view back to the way I'd just came from. After I'd caught my breathe I slinked over to some of the 'official' miradors to cap off a remarkable day. There was the city before me; the most beautiful I am ever yet (and ever likely) to see. In my opinion, the reward was well worth the madness. Sorry Sal, I'll be much more sensible next time I promise...maybe!!

Pão de Açucar from below

The best thing about climbing Pão de Açucar yourself, is that you get to ride the cable car back down for free!! I'd spent nothing that day, so I decided to get drunk & celebrate. I woke up the next day with a hint of a hangover with nothing to show for it. Noice. The worst kind. I felt I should wander down to Ipanema to walk it off. Down at the beach I watched the surfers bob beside the rocks, drank myself a caipirinha for breakfast, then ran into a model photography shoot jammed packed with draw dropping stunners!! This was the life. I think I'll end up sticking around for a little longer than I had planned. Either way, I had to change hostels that day yet again; the build up to Carnival was making finding good accommodation hectic. This time I was moving out to the suburb of Lapa, a world apart from the glitz & glamour of Copacabana or Ipanema, and it took me a while to readjust to the mayhem. Well that was OK anyway, because I got stuck inside for most of the day due to the driving rain. I sat about in the huge lounge room watching movies & pretending to be busy. It wasn't until later that night that I made a move to be in any way socially active. I sat at the bar & drank caipirinhas until my mouth felt as if it was full off fluff. An Aussie girl called JackiO, who I quickly took a liking to explained that this was a common occurrence, and that she had read somewhere that people were putting nail clippers in their mouths because of it and trying to chop off their taste buds!! What the fuck is wrong with the world!!?? This munted trend of conversation continued throughout the remainder of the night, as somehow we managed to skip between such exotic hot topics; from 'sitting down in the shower,' to the self diagnosis of 'neck clad lymph nodes.' I thought she was a smart girl until she dragged me into the deserted unlit streets in search of the famous Santa Teresa steps at 4 o'clock in the morning...ahhh, blow your balls up you sucker. I'm so gonna get shot one of these days.

Models posing on Ipanema beach

I think we woke the whole dorm up the following morning. Quickly put in my place by some brave buccaneer, I was told to 'shut the fuck up!' or 'get out!!' Aight mate, I get the jist. I hadn't got too much sleep at all that night, and I was up mighty early; I didn't miss breakfast however...so that was one bonus!! I had to knock off that other 'must-do' before I could chill the hell out around these parts, and today was looking as promising as it was likely to ever be. Off to see the big Jesus - the Redeemer himself. We ended up climbing the road with a hot chica from Bahia who was trying desperately to practise her English, and her fat mother who reminded me of the black hooker off the movie 'Borat.' Please don't turn out like your mumma girlo...it would be such a waste. Once up top, it was a wondrous occasion...the only shame about it all was the crowds. You could barely move. This spot obviously wasn't designed with the 21st Century tourist boom in mind. I squeezed through the pack and grabbed a couple of quick snaps; however, then I refused to move. I wasn't coming up all this way not to take it all in. It was much like being at a rock concert - once you were at the rail you were set; let that safety net go and you find yourself in a whirlwind. He does look a bit like a giant rock-god made of rock now doesn't he??

Christ the Redeemer

We had a mad crew that night for another hair-raiser. We'd decided to buy some rum & stir up our own drinks...well one bottle turned into two...and add to that all those pre-drinking tasty cocktails from the bar & you've all of a sudden set yourself up for one messy night!! Soon we were doing our best to samba downstairs in some nearby club, and from there on in I can't remember much else...there was bum dancing, circle stand-offs and missing people. Somehow JackiO & I ended up on a concrete seat yet again talking our way through the bullshit on the empty streets of Lapa. Strange days. I needed a detox. Better make for Búzios. Shit son, watch out...BEACH BOUND!!!

Catchya later hombres...
Somehow surviving this CachaÇaFest!!
Wish you were here...

Much Overdue Luvin'
Nicko xxx