Dave and I flew into Rio de Janeiro on October 1st, minus one thing - bags. For the second time this trip, British Airways failed me and left me with no clothes. As one would guess, jeans and shoes are probably not the best attire for spring time in South America. Luckily, the Brits gave us £35 to compensate. We were met at the airport by my new favourite Brasilian - Paulo. Luckily for us, Dave hosted an exchange student many years ago and they were happy to return the favour with three Australian backpackers. I was particularly impressed by Patricia's (Paulo's wife) ability to make black beans and rice taste so damn delicious!
Sean arrived two days later and luckily while we were at the airport we were able to retrieve our lost bags - I was partly to blame as the number I left British airways belonged to a sim card that was in fact inside the bag that was missing. There was a joyous reunion at the fact that Dave and I were seeing Sean for the first time in 6 months, though he hardly recognised me as I had ridded myself of the mop on my head a day earlier.
While in Rio, I visited Cristo de Redentor (although we couldn't see further than about 20 metres and missed the amazing panoramic views I have seen in so many photos) , went on a very informative favela tour and fulfilled the tourist-Rio stereotype by hangliding of a mountain of which the name eludes me. The most embarrassing moment of our Rio experience was during an attempt at getting to a local football game. I laughed in the face of a 2-line metro, but after half an hour of going back and forth Dave and I went home defeated and solemn. The rest of the time in Rio was spent talking with Paulo about travelling, volleyball and football. Among my favourite quotes from Paulo were about Bolivia: "Why would you go there unless you want cocaine?" and also about his favourite place to travel in South America:
"My favourite country to travel in South America is Chile"
"Have you been to Chile"
"Never!"
Favela in Rio
Another funny experience was as the three of us sat marvelling at the interior of a beautiful church in Ouro Preto, we were surrounded by a group of Brasilian school kids who were learning about the history of the church (from what I can guess, my Portuguese is limited to around 15 words). Upon leaving, we were surrounded and asked 101 questions in very broken english. Later, a girl approached Sean exclaiming "Bejing!!", but he quickly redeemed himself as she asked for a kiss on the cheek to which Sean happily obliged.
Sunset over Ouro Preto
During our stay in Ouro Preto, it was decided it was time to get more "intrepid". We had two options - Amazon or Pantanal? After some logistical reasoning, it was decided that the Pantanal was a better option and the Amazon would be left to the Bolivian sector of our South American adventure. After 2 buses and 36 hours that I would rather forget, we arrived in Cuiaba in Mato Grosso. All we wanted was a good night's sleep. "There are no beds - we have hammocks"
Don't get me wrong I LOVE hammocks, but sleeping in them is a whole different story. I gave in after 20 minutes and slept on tiles while the boys managed a very disjointed sleep pattern. The cherry on top of a good night was the 5:00am rooster crow. I will repeat a quote from Sean that sums up his opinion of the night: "At times like these I wonder how Dave is vegan...because right now I want to kill every rooster in the yard."
After a day's delay due to some uncooperative Frenchies, we were off into the Pantanal. We weren't off to the best start as our guide (whose name I can't spell or properly remember, so I will refer to as JC because he looked like Jackie Chan) took 45 minutes to get some "documentation". No longer than 30 minutes into our drive south into the Pantanal, JC stopped to grab some food. "Who wants to drive?"
"What? Wait...what?"
"I do" came the reply split seconds later
We were back onto the main road minutes later, with JC in the passenger seat and Dave in the driver's seat. One rule: don't go over 100. Sean and I shot glances at each other that communicated what words could not.
We arrived at Jaguar Eco Lodge at around 7pm - after our safari of sorts. When I say safari, I assume people think of a big jeep, maybe painted in stripes or something and driven by some guy dressed in khaki attire. Well, JC drove a shiny new VW Golf and wore a collared shirt, long pants and dress shoes -but my god did he know his stuff, and his ability to spot an animal, no matter how big or small, night or day, while travelling at 60km, was phenomenal. On that first "safari", we saw Capibara (a dog sized rodent), countless Caiman (estimates for the entire Pantanal are between 10 and 35 million), Macaws, Deer and many other species of bird.
After dinner, the night safari with the bigger group was cancelled. JC wasn't deterred! Off we go in the Golf with our tiny torches. All of a sudden we stop in the middle of the dirt road far away from anywhere. "Get out slowly, keep quiet and don't go too close to the bush."
"Ok"
"Now turn off your torches"
May I remind everyone this is jaguar country, and yes, jaguars hunt at night. Seconds later JC lets off his signature cackle, scaring the absolute shit out of everyone. After that episode, we visited what is probably the creepiest place I have ever been. It was an abandoned research station that was literally left as a relic of time. Beds were made, drinks still sat on the table, all the research collected was left in the lab. It gave me the creeps and my imagination ran free with a culmination of all those scary movies filmed in obscure places with abandoned buildings. To put me even more on edge, JC carried a machete all the time - "just in case"
We awoke for an early morning wildlife walk at 5am - spotting my first toucan. After a hearty breakfast, we went for a 2 hour trek in the forest. I was on machete duty and before long we spotted a caiman. Instinctively, the three of us walked the other way. Instinctively, JC did the opposite. "Come on guys, try and touch its tail. At least poke it with a stick" The result of a poke produced a blood-curdling growl that made Dave and I run the fastest 20 metres of our lives. No more poking alligators for me. JC neglects to tell us till after the encounter that it was probably a mother that was protecting eggs. For the rest of the trek, we spotted birds and attempted a howling contest with the howling monkeys - to no avail.
The afternoon brought with it a trip on the river in a little boat with JC and a boat driver who doubled as the gardener for the eco lodge. Eventually we were ordered off the boat for a "piss-stop". I swum with piranhas in the river, though if you want to get technical I went shin deep and lay down for about 10 seconds. All of a sudden JC pricks his ears, everyone goes quiet and in 5 seconds we are jumping on the boat, JC getting his jeans wet. Then I hear a growl. Not an alligator growl, a jaguar growl. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) we didn't get to see it. The joke in the Pantanal is if you are lucky enough to see a Jaguar up close it is already too late.
The next day was a change of scene as we headed to a different part of the Pantanal. More forest, less wetlands. Unfortunately we had to farewell JC, our favourite companion as he had business to attend to back in Cuiaba. Alex took over and was just as knowledgable as JC, if not more so when it came to plants. Alex took Sean and I piranha fishing and I once and for all confirmed I am never swimming in any place where there is even a hint of piranha. Within a second of dropping the bait from our primitive bamboo poles, it was literally gone. Every time, without fail. Being the avid fisherman I am, I snagged the biggest of the lot. Alex insisted on a photo. I held the line about 30cm from the end, keeping my fingers as far away from the piranha's mouth as possible. Alex insisted closer. Closer, closer, closer. Ok, that's enough. Here's a photo of the little bugger.
While at the pousada, we met Jonas and Katja, some Swiss people that further stimulated Dave's love of Switzerland, swiss people and his desire to live there. I must admit all the Swiss people I've met have been great people. We awoke with the promise of horse riding, and everyone was pretty excited. To date, my experience with a horse had been sitting on one when I was about 10 and being led by a rope around a small enclosure. As with so many other experiences during the trip, horse riding was for me a completely new thing. As he brought the horses out, Dave called "shotty not" to a horse that looked less than the majestic creature he spoke of riding. To his intitial dismay, it was in fact his horse.
"What's its name?"
"Bingo"
"NO WAY!!!"
For days on end before hand, Dave went on about how he would call his horse, no matter the name, Bingo. For him, it was as if the stars had aligned. We spent 2 hours on horse back exploring the local landscape that bore remarkable resemblance to Australia. In fact, it was really the essence of what the typical Australian landscape is. The three of us had mock races, as we couldn't manage to, nor wanted to, get any faster than trotting. After the energy draining horse ride (yeah, right) Sean prepared for his favourite pastime, sleep...
Before too long it we were back in Cuiaba and our 4 days in the Pantanal were over. The next morning it was time for another bus, 26 hours, to a city on the Brasilian-Argentinian border known as Foz do Iguaçu. The one and only reason for a visit to this city was the truly breathtaking Iguaçu Falls, which are only 5km from the city. I write this from the hostel where I have spent much time reading, catching up on lost playstation time, lazing in hammocks, swimming and attempting morning runs. We visited the falls two days ago in a magical 6 hours of nature at its best and most powerful. I have learnt plenty about the history of Finland, the Finnish language and its people as we have spent plenty of time conversing with two Finnish people around our age named Tessa and Niklas. We also hung out with our new Dutch friend Anita (who has inspired me to learn Spanish as she speaks 7 languages. Or 8?) and taught a group of German guys the well known game that is Spoons.
Tomorrow the trio is off to El Bolson via Buenos Aires. El Bolson is in the lakes district in Argentina, just before the start of Patagonia. Dave picked El Bolson as it is a "hippy town" with an arts, craft and healthy food market 4 days a week - so pretty much his heaven in a nutshell. But for now, I am going to enjoy this wonderful hostel by lazing in a hammock to read a book. Not sure when the next entry will be, but hopefully this will keep my mum off my back for at least a few weeks, or days... Bom dia! Adeus till next time.
