Unfortunately some of the eys on my laptop ( the ones besde u and j especially and the comma and full stop) or broen as such ths mumbo-jumbo word-mountan that loos amazingly le the jagged roughed landscape ve just been captivated and nspred by.
35m long 1 m wide 60m high a majestical pantng that nature rarely produces and often takes away in the blinking of an eye the masterpiece s still here and unbelievably s still being panted everyday a frosty slap in the iris a blue punch n the pupil a shotgun sound n the ear the falling ice chunks small tidal waves eye tnted mountans small nimble birds with spiky heads and attitudes thousands of jagged undulating bumps with a ten types of blue and a hundreds types of white dd you now that the esmos have 300 names for snow down here the ce must have the same nearby El Chatlen and the magnanimous Fitzroy range climbing paradise the powerful towers of pain huge stone masses shooting ominously into the sy nqustve condors 4 hour horse track innumerable meandering rivers a nice Swedish couple a 4th generaton rshman called Marcos avanagh hs stores of attacng puma on the prares the world famously cold bone chilling winds three coats two pants were not enough almost nhumanable conditions beautiful wld horses that are traded for 125 euros turquoise lae Argentna tender lomo meat durng ther toughest economc tmes of late n one wee the country had unbelievably 5 presdents no longer one to one wth the dollar the people are slowly readjustng the widest variety of snow capped moutons have ever seen that run on for ever laugng at the stars and talng wth the cluds the cheapest but slowest nternet access yet hostl el calafate almost loosng my camera a dash bac to get before the bus left the coolest customer servcce rep ever altruism n full swng repad hm wth a bottle of melbec fnshng the edtng of the 3rd boo starng out a bg clear wndow the lazest dogs n the world that go around n bg pacs shaelton lounge and lyng star shaped on the ground loong at the heavens drun on wne and beer havng to fly to Buenos to get to Barloche fryng up my own tender steas n the hostel the 7 laes tour on the way and holeween n the lae dstrct. John Culnan wherever you are you’d love t down here ths place was made for you.
Ive copied and pasted a little but enough is enough.
Iiiiiii….hey ‘I’ is miraciously back in action and so is kkkkkkk
….
;,,,,
im back…..life on the road for a beaten, bounced and walloped laptop.
Day: 210
Location: Tierra Del Fuego, Argentina
Temp: 5c
Tierra Del Fuego, or the “The Land of Fire” is located at the tip of South America, down from the Falkland Islands, past the straits of Magellan and a mere two day freight boat away from the penguins in Antarctica. It earns its name from distant shoreline campfires the indigenous Yagan people tended to. These infernos were ogled at by mesmerised explorers sailing the surrounding, channels and straits in years gone by. These days almost all the Yahgan`s are gone and the archipelago is owned mostly by neighbouring Chile, though the biggest cities of Rio Grande and where the dogs and I are, Ushuaia, belong to Argentina. The last few days have consisted of cable rides to Glaciers and climbing mountains in the country’s first coastline National Park. But hold the husky ride for a moment. Let me back pack (I`m getting so used to that name now), I mean back slay a bit for a moment. Let’s tie up the dogs and let me tell you what’s been happening since my last blog.
Here is the abbreviated and censored version:
My good friend Alex Martin decided to pay me a whirl wind, “high-rolling” week long visit after learning that he had been accepted to do his MBA in Sydney. For a period of 10 days we went mad. First in Sao Paulo, at my farewell Brasilian party which was a hell raising, drunken, hugs, kisses and champagne affair that became very messy at about 8am in the morning. And let’s not forget emotional. I now consider a part of my heart Brasilian. I love the people. I love the culture. And I love picanha, Corinthians and Guarana! After my Sao Paulo exit we headed to Buenos Aires where Alex was swiftly introduced to my ever smiling Scotish friend Yvonne and her ultra sound and ultra cool boyfriend Jason. Over the space of a few blurry days we hit some of the nightclubs: Club 69, Pasha, BA News and the 8am to 3pm Kaix club which is the craziest club I have ever went to in my life. You got to check this place out. It’s situated on the River Plate, which gives it a dramatic watery affect, and at 8am the sun makes its way gently into the sky and hits the small circular dance floor with some of its dappled yellow and golden rays. The club holds about 2,000 people. About 2,500 people were there when we made our introduction, 95% on drugs, 99% out from the night before, all taking part in a clubbing marathon. When we arrived ther were 5 bodybuilder gay lords commanding the dance floor with flamboyant multi-coloured spiked haircuts, squeezing their pecks and tensing their biceps to every beat in the excellent uplifting house tunes and 80s rifts. Beside them were two 6ft 2 or 6ft 3 giant transvestites that danced languidly with the lissom grace of one of the incoming waves in the bay. Speckled all around them were a corpulence of banging ravers jumping, shouting, whistling, biting, hugging, jaw chewing, index finger firing, pill dropping, sneaker wearing dancers all seemingly having the time of their life. Alex and I got home at about 11am. Eusebius never saw anything like it in his life and spent most of his time jumping up and down and taking mental notes of everything he saw. He mostly stood on the periphery. Brutos on the other paw got stuck in there in the middle of the dance floor and gave as good as he got. As the morning progressed and the tunes kept spinning he introduced himselfs to loads of people. By the end of the day he must have shook tails and barked friendly at least half the people there. He slept for 24 hours afterwards.
Unbelievably, after 3 days, Alex decided a visit back to Brasil was in order, this time the River of January. And in a scene reminiscent of Snatch, our passports flashed by us, were quickly stamped and our metal bird hit the sky and before you could say “Polar Bears are actually very dangerous and not to be petted” we were taking snaps of Christ the Redeemer, body boarding in Ipanema, and knocking back more champagne then you can imagine (on one occasion 10 bottles in one night).
After all that madness Alex headed back to London in a heap and I was sent in individual parcels down to Buenos Aires and put back together by the beautiful Meire and Beatchie, friends from Brasil, who decided to visit me.
One of the highlights of my entire trip was a wonderful meal we had at an amazing Tango show called “Senhor Tango”. A two hour, amazing extravaganza with the best dancing I have ever seen, and, a rendition of “Don’t Cry for me Argentina” at the end which had Eusebius in tears. Fantastic and highly highly recommended. A must see in my books if you get to Buenos Aires. And at US$50 for the show and a top notch meal well worth pushing out the budget. The next few days were spent lazily strolling around the highly sophisticated, beautifully adorned, cosmopolitan capital. A wonderful city. A cross between the old town in Stockholm and Paris. The city seemed to be a never ending pall of thousands and thousands of chic and classy indoor and outdoor cafes and restaurants all surrounded and intertwined with a variety of elegant older buildings. In our short trip we got a chance to visit the beautiful district of Rocoleta with its unforgettable cemetery, take in some weird and wacky markets in Boca, on the port (the home of the famous Boca Juniors team, where Diego Maradona applied his trade and is revered as a demigod) and loiter around the widest main street in any capital in the world, Av 9 del Julio (and impressive 8 lanes, 56m wide).
After their whirlwind visit the Brazilians returned to their homeland and I hung out for a few days with Yvonne and Jason. This was complete chill out time. With plenty of rest and plenty of good food. They’re now in Mendoza and more than likely slugging back some fancy red wine, that came from a fancy rare grape variety that was stored in a fancy oak barrel wine. I’m looking forward to swirling, spitting and downing some of it myself in a few weeks.
Okay, where was I… Oh yes, glaciers and national parks… I am presently leaning on the keyboards of my laptop in a cool hostel called Torre al Sur looking out into the heavily snow capped mountain surrounded bay in Ushuaia. There are two English women and an Irish woman across the table from me debating whether or not they have the time, money or equipment to take on the 10 day trip to the Antarctica (so far I’ve gleaned it costs 2,000 US dollars for 10 days [more expensive in high season Dec-Jan], it takes the big freight boat 2 days to get over and 2 days to get back and that its cold), and I`m loading some of the photos from the last two days` excursions on to my hard drive. The first trip was a cable car ride to the Martial Glacier, which took about 2 hours and boasts one of the most spectacular views of the city and bay. Truly beautiful. Today was a visit to Parque Nacional Tierra Del Fuego which consists of numerous hikes, the most southerly operating train in the world, cascading rivers, giant lakes, tall dense forests, blue pink glaciers and sporadic beaches. I decided to take on the hardest trail which was an 8km hike up and down to the very steep Cerro Guanaco through a heavily meandering, forest path, which took me a demanding 4 hours to wrestle and conquer. The site from the top was even better than the Martial Glacier. Luckily enough I got back to my base station and a warm fire just before a huge downpour of snow, sleet and rain hit the park. I`m tired now but enthused. I`m sleepy but ready and waiting for tomorrow’s adventure. Hopefully I’ll be clapping flippers with seals, studying the foxes and beavers and staring at Andean condors and black-browed albatrosses.
Acabo de sair das viagias que passei em Brasil. Foi super-legal. Fiquei com meu muito generoso pai Marcel. O tempo estava cheio com: adventura, diabrura and sorrisos. Fui visitar muitos lugares interessantes, e vi as cascatas em Chapada Dimentina e Falls de Iguacu, e dansei em Fortaleza e Salvador, e nadei com tubarao e golfinhos em Fornando de Naronha. E muito outra coisas……Ouvi muita musica Brasiliana, comei carne spectacular e gritei par Tiamao em Pacanbeau.
Foi uma tempo especial no meu vida que nunca esquecer. Eu sento quasi Brasilian ahora. Eu ansisoso que uma dia eu vou voltar.
To all my friends, of which there are too many to mention, I say a big Thank You. There will always be a special part of your amazing country in my heart of hearts. So let`s not say goodbye. Let`s say “ate logo”.
And to all of you Brasilian rambling vagabond who are thinking of visiting the other side of the world always know that you have a place to stay with me in Ireland.
For those of you that know the rambler, you will know that soocer has been an integral part of my lifeforce for a long time. Maybe not as much now as it used to be, but, still it plays a big part. Ever since i can rememebr i`ve been kicking a ball. I have 25 years plus football pumping in my vains, i have played with many teams, in many countries, and in many cities. I`ve competed in myriad leagaues and cups , in almost every position on the pitch and in almost every weather condition. At this stage i must have played thousands and thousands of games. So many it`s impossible to count... I want to tell you about a game of football i played that was nothing like i`ve ever experienced, or come close to experiencing in my life of football ever before!
The story starts when I met a group of blokes last weekend, friends of friends. We exchanged handshakes and salutations, and as you do, then got speaking over a few beers on a variety of topics: Cornelius as usual got an appearence, and i got slagged again for the 10,000nt time, if there still was a war in Ireland, how Bush is such a prick, and then, pleasantly we drifted onto a conversation on soccer. We discussed the finer details of the Spanish league, we argued about the demise of the Italian and French national teams and we clonked glasses on how great it would be if Ireland could play Brasil in one of the opening games of the next world cup in Germany (with the man of the moment down here Cornelius making an appearence in the middle of the park with Keano). At the end of the conversation one of the guys said that they played every Wednesday at midnight on an astro turf pitch, with electronic scoreboards, usually 5 a-side. To their credit, as i`m becoming accustomed to down here, they immediately stuck out the hand of friendship and asked me did i want a game. It has been a few months since i played a proper 5 a-side game and if i was to be honest would have to admit that i was a little suspicious that my new found friends were about to vent the fury and built up anger of a nation towards the Irish and Cornelius by subjecting me to a barrage of dirty tackles and a healthy portion elbows for the duration of the game. But, i`m used to that so after a fleeting moment of thought and a quick mouthful of beer I accepted. IT WAS COMPLETELY NUTS for various different reasons that i couldn`t have expected and will never forget.
My nameless friend picked me up in his car at 10.30 with his girlfriend and dropped her off, winked at me, and headed for the pitch. When we got there it was actually a complex with about 4 similar pitches, each roughly half the size of a standard pitch, with big nets and a small dug out. The complex had a club house that served food and drink. Straight away i was brought to meet the players in the bar and we all had 2 or 3 beers before the game kicked off. Strange preperation i thought to myself! At ten to twelve we went to the pitch with about 10 people from the bar who acted as a semi interested crowd. Just before we kicked off, one of the guys in the stand lit up the first of many joints and half the players took huge mouthfuls of the drug into their system in what i can only guess was a substitute for a warm up çause none was done. That is with the exception of a rather large goal keeper on the oppositions team that shook his head around twice, and scratched his eyes as if he had just woke up after 2 days of non stop sleep.
The game of ball was nothing like i had, in error, prepared myself for. I thought it would be a little rough and tumble with a healthy proportion of traditional Brasilian flare and dexterity. It turned out to be all flare and dexterity and no rough and tumble. Pure football. All passing and movement. It was great. I relaxed took up a role in the middle of the park and in a 19-14 titantic battle played my part in slaying a disgruntled and highly excited opposition. But that`s not where this game ended as some of the players explained to me over a few final-whistle handshakes. The real game was about to begin. After a quick shower i sat down on some steps beside the bar with the other players. My driver and talented centre half duely collected 2.50 euros from us all and went into the bar and came back with a black dustin full of ice and beer. Then, as if on q, every week, a big fat japanese dude pulled up in a dusty beaten down car and handed over a big bag of favala cocaine to our goal keeper. After a few bottles of beer each, half the team started rolling joints and the others started taking their turn going back towards the pitch to take a line of coke. So there i was in the middle of a beer soccer sandwich with a group of brasilians clapping me on my back congratulating me on my soccer performance, saying that Cornelius was actually alright, and probably had his own problems that no one knew about, and that their marathon runner should be thankful as he is now world famous and a Brasilian TV channel are already talking about making a film of his life, and seemingly all the girls now think he`s really handsome and want to bed him. For the next hour and a half I dug into the bottle of beers and the boys dug into a variety of other substances. The subject varied from what type of drugs there is in Ireland, are all the women tall, with blond hair, blue eyes, long legs and can drink 10 pints of Guinness, to, how Brasil has been corrupted by the politicians and how that someday they wished that it could grow and flourish and change from a 3rd world country full of economic and social disparities to a 1st world with a more balanced culture and economy that bridges the gap between poor and rich.
The debates were lively, interesting, intelligent and often elegantly and cogently discussed. It was a strange game of footall. And as i laid in bed at night pondering on what happened i couldn`t help but think once again how football (or any team sport for that matter) had been such a wonderfully weird teacher of life. To the boys, of last night, who i may never see again, to the nameless soccer warriors i will probably never cross shins and elbows with, drink a beer with or discuss life again... the vagabond salutes you.
Last few weeks have been all about hangin' out in Sao Paulo and chillin' after the last few hectic weeks of traveling. I needed it after 15 plane flights and 2 months on the road. Back in SP, I've been brushing up on my Portuguese, doing a lot of reading and writing, hangin' out in Angelica Grill stuffing delicious picanha and cheese bread into my gob, watching the mighty Corinthians soar up the football table, and have been learning how to dance Forro with the beautiful Dany (I've already hit her an elbow and stood on her toes at least three times)!
With a tear in my eye I'll be leaving Sao Paulo at the end of the month. Que Pena! But, on the upside will be two-foot tackling, my first Argentian stop, the sophisticated, cultured and intriguing capital of Buenos Aires. I hope to spend five weeks in total in Argentina. So far I'm thinking of spending a week in the capital and after that I'm undecided? Brutos wants to head straight down south ( on an over-night bus), to Tierra del Fuego, via a quick stop in the beaxh resort of Mar-Del-Plata. Eusebius wants to kick off our rambling by heading for the north to sample the tasty criolla chica and cereza grapes in Mendoza, San Juan, La Rioja and Salta . He's more interested in educating his mid pallete then getting rough and tumble with a few fiords, rolling mountain chains and active volcanoes in the Lake District. We've all aggreed that a quick visit to, Punta Arenas, a quick hike through The Frency Valley and Lake Grey to check out the impressive scarped peakes of the Torres del Paine (or Towers of Pain) is a must.
Next, being hotly debated is in which order to prioritise other areas to ramble to? So far the list is looking like, in first place the massive, gorgantuian, mountain:
Aconcagua
2. a visit to Cortoba
3. an extended stay back in the capital if it proves to be a hit and
4. a cheeky two day trop to neignbouring Uruguay and Montevideo which is only a one-hour boat trop away from Buenos, before flying onwards to Santiago.
Some strategic and tactical decisions will have to be made very soon. Anyone out there in cyber-space got any advice or recommendations or even contacts I could use, drop a dog a bone.the
Location: Jungle
Day: 148
Weather: 37
Tour Operator: Green Planet Tours , cost: 75 euros for the entire trip! Hotels: Hotel Monoco *** and The Tropical Hotel ****
The Amazon houses and possess a mountain of interesting facts figures and statistics that are hard to digest- here are a few openers that you might be interested in: it touches nine of the thirteen countries in south America, it covers 42% of Brazilian land mass, it is the world’s largest concentration of flora and fauna, it is home to the world’s largest river in terms of volume constituting 30% of the world’s river water. Some local academics also contend that it is also the world’s longest river currently attributed to the Nile and at this time are researching that its source is further up in the Peruvian Andes. I could go on forever but I won`t. If you want to know more buy a book or get down here on your next holiday.
Chief and I started our brief exploration of the Amazon in the capital of the state of Amazonian: Manuas. Manuas is situated on the Rio Negro seven miles upstream from the impressive convergence of the Solomines and Negro rivers, which join to form the birthplace of the Amazon River. Manuas is a strange city. There is a huge population of over 2 million and it is juxtaposition of a high tech urban economy, reminiscent of a colonial past and a present day struggling lower class that predominantly come from a poor Indian heritage. It houses some of the biggest manufacturing, research & development, petrol, telecommunication and computer internationals on the planet but at the same time has a very poor infrastructure and has widespread prostitution and unskilled labour. My recommendation would be to come into Manuas and get out to the jungle as quick as possible to utilise all the precious days of your trip to the Amazon. There’s not a lot to see in the city except for the ornate opera house which is a symbol of the opulence that once thrived in the region due to the rubber industry boom that happened two hundred years ago.
A bit like the mosquitoes in the area the tour operators and jungle lodge owners in the Amazon swarm around tourists the minute they step through arrivals. They sell their journeys when you queue for the taxi, they peddle their goods when you are trying to go to the toilet, they tip you on the shoulder when you are shopping in the local supermarket or when you are having a maracuja fruit juice. There buzzing can be heard in the streets. And like their two winged friends they are dangerous. If they bite you your experience of the Amazon could be a disaster. Poor sleeping facilities, slow boats, poor food, non-English speaking guides, etc. I wish their were a Larium, Malarone or Doxiciclina that you could take to prevent their bites but unfortunately our best minds haven’t come up with a repellent yet! Maybe the answer is somewhere deep in the jungle !When picking a tour it is recommended that extreme caution and forward planning be used. Its worth doing your research before you get here as the tourist office in the town is a disaster with little or no literature and staff that can only speak Portuguese. It is as if the there is a tour operating cartel in operation! After a stressful day of shooting around in a taxi trying to find information to compare on tours Chief and I decided after, some debate and haggling with a local weird and wacky Portuguese German eccentric Irish looking tour operator called Nelson to take a two night three day tour with a company called Green planet. And boy was it some experience. It was about as strange as a Daddy Long Legs being put in the heart of an invested jungle lake and told “There you go boy , you’re home, you’re back in the wild, go forth and multiply”. It’s new territory. It’s an unfamiliar world. Having said that it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be and we rose to the challenge.
Home was a floating lodge 30 feet wide by 50 foot long. Bit like a floating school gym with a tin can roof. Sleeping facilities consisted of several low maintenance rooms consisting of beds and ripped mosquito nets. On the front deck were twelve hammocks. Food was dished up by a one armed chef and consisted primarily of pasta, rice, fried bananas, white fish I don’t know the name of, the smallest and sweetest bananas you’ve ever seen and orange juice, hot milk and water. Sanitary conditions were modest but effective and the seating area to the front was spacious and comfortable and provided a good area to watch the local boats occasionally go by.
Day one of our trip into the unknown consisted of taking a boat from the dock in Manuas to the meeting of the waters. This is a strange phenomenon where the black water of the Rio Negro from Colombia merges with the Solimoes river of Peru. Brought me back to one of my science glasses when I was a kid. If my memory serves me right it was the same effect when you mixed water with oil. Anyone know the technical term send me a mail. Can`t recall it. Anyway they don’t mix so the effect is like a crack in the water where on the left of the boat you have black water which is 5 degrees hotter than the brown water which is on your right. After the meetings we went to our floating camp and within the space of a few hours headed out piranha fishing and crocodile hunting at night. Myself, Chief, Eusebius, Brutos, four friendly Spanish, two beautiful Italian women, a stoic Japanese axe-murder looking man, Flavio our 16 year old ship captain and coconut tree climber, and last but not least, our excellent multi-linguist, ex-army, avid flora and fauna hunter and guide Naronha set off up one of the plenitude of tributaries of the Rio Negro (which is one of the main supplies of cocaine from Colombia in the world) to see what the Amazon would throw at us. After experiencing piranha fishing in the Panthanal, the fishing on the day was a little less fruitful. However what we lacked in luck and skill with our fishing we made up with verve. It was great fun hearing all the members of the boast shouting obscenities at the fish in Japanese, Irish, Spanish, Catalan, Italian, Portuguese and English. On more than one occasion, Chief almost had a catch, but, mischievously, they kept nipping at his bate and cheekily stealing it from under his nose. He wasn`t happy. Same held through for Eusebius, no luck; and Brutos was getting so upset, at one stage I had to restrain him from throwing himself into the water to hunt with his paws and teeth! To date he’s still zero for zero on the fishing front!
After a quick bite of grub we went out again, this time at night, wearing full length clothes and with flash lamps to hunt for crocs. It tooks us hours but we eventually caught a little baby male which we all got a chance to handle. It was only two or three feet long (but will grow to about twenty foot when an adult). Felt like holding a scaly snake! The best part of the trip for me was the experience of listening to the boat glide through the river and dodge the various tall towering trees that sprung up from the river forest. It was a constant feat of dexterity on the part of Flavio the navigator at the back of the boat from keeping us from crashing into a giant tree and capsizing. The beauty was in the symphionic choruses, blurbs, oinks, chirps, whistles, squeeks and sounds that surrounded us from all the various wild animals. There night talks and screams were like a beautiful orchestral performance. Most impressing on my mind was the very clear picture of the heavens dotted with an uncountable amount of starts and clouds, all reflecting off the water below. The water was so clear it acted like a mirror and gave a surreal effect of two night skies. To make things even better. Fire flies kept shooting past the boat in the night making it look as if there were shooting stars in the water and only a mere hand grasp away. A beautiful experience. And one which I hope comes out some what well on the cam corder so I can relive it again.
On another Amazon high pitch note I need to explain something to you!!! You’ve all heard of your fair share of frightening animals that exist in the Amazon? Permit me a minute to remind you of a few. You have Malaria carrying mosquitoes, stinging ant armies that march in huge phalanxes, a wide variety of frightening spiders- tarantulas and black widows- and a hoard of other spiders that hunt with webs that they throw at their prey, spiders that hunt in packs for snakes and birds and others that create webs that are the size of big fishing nets. Then there are the cats: the majestic but deadly Puma, the noble but lethal Jaguar, the slender but cunning Oclet, and much more. And let’s not forget the birds of prey, the hawks and eagles that patrol the skies. And unfogetably we have the snakes, which are world famous: lightening quick vipers, strangulating pythons and bone crushing anacondas and a multitude of highly toxic brightly coloured snakes, frogs and insects that vary in length and girth that you simply don`t want to get into an argument with................. I haven’t even touched on what lives in the waters......... Creatures, which in my opinion, are some of the most frightening animals in the world. Razor sharp piranhas, snapping and wrestling caymens and up to 13 stone clandestine man eating ugly looking pucajuras ….but let’s forget them for a moment. There is one that you might have never heard of which for me is the most frightening of them all. One of the most fearsome animals of the human race anywhere on the planet. Let a 25 foot crocodile attack me and bring me to the bottom of a lake, let a 30 foot aconaconda digest me over a month, let the razor sharp claw of a jaguar rip at my back and tare at my neck before letting me be taken by this abomination. His name is the "CANDIRU" and he frightens the living day lights out of everyone I know. I need to tell you a little about this merciless, bringer of EXCRUCIATING pain, mother f*c*er, enemy of the human race. There are actually two distinct groups of fish known as candiru in Brazil. The so called “whale catfish” famous for the rapaciousness with which they attack hooked fish much like piranhas and bathers alike, and the smaller, gill dwelling catfish that have become legendary for swimming into unlikely human orifices (including the vagina, anus, nose and ears). These needle shaped fish are adapted to dwell in the gills of large catfishes where they extract muscus and blood. Traditionally, menstruating women avoid candiru infested waters for fear their blood may attract these water demons. According to native folklore these fish are also attracted to urine and they are reputed to be able to enter the penis of a man urinating by the side of a river by swimming up the urine stream. Reports are no doubt apocryphal. Candiru do on occasion however enter the urethra by both male and female bathers more than likely attracted by the urine. However remote the likelihood of this unpleasant event the mere prospect is sufficient to cause even the most avid bather of thinking twice before he enters the water and has made Chief develop an unusual technique of diving into the water with one hand protecting his grind and the other guarding his back passage!
Day two consisted of trekking into the jungle for a class on flora and a spot of torantical hunting . It only lasted a few hours but it was action packed. The guides were brilliant. They showed plants that produce sap that make anti-cancer remedies. Trees that produce rubber, and produce the primary ingredients for bubble gum, and others which branches act like filters to retain water for the locals to cut down and drink from when trekking through the jungle for days on end. Very educational. And straight out of a Michael Pallin documentary. I really enjoyed it. Later in the day we did a little canoeing up the creeks to see some more flora and then went to a local woman`s house which in the space of half an hour turned into a pub come, smallest night-club you`ve ever seen. Strangest, but one of the coolest bars i`ve ever been in: the pool table had a 20 degree slant on its left hand side, you had to go through the old woman`s sitting room to get to the one tiolet and the locals pooled up in thin long stick baots to oggle at the gringoes and hit the odd tree on their way home full of petrol tasting vodka and canchasa. Great fun.
Third day was a quick trip to a local indian home where we had a chance to see some of the local farming crops and buy some of the local jewelery. Chief and I got on well with a 6 and 11 year old kid and spent most of our time being thought how to play football by them on a small beach. By the end of the day it was a full scale 5 on 5 international soccer match with a dip in the river, a refreshing fruit juice and a slow boat back to the camp to chill out. A great end rto a great trip.
Recommendations:-Bring anti-malaria tablets with you before you come they are surprisingly desperately hard to buy when you get here.-A pair of night vision glasses like the military have would be like a dream come through-high power head torch a must-Camcorder is a must as well as heaps of memory on your digital camera-Get anti-mosquito spray that has in its ingredients DEET 100%. The mossies hate this stuff.-Bring some of your own food with you into the jungle: any of the sugar based products will give you a daily boost in case the food is not agreeing with you.
[1] The north is far poorer and cheaper than the south. Having been here 4 months my opinion to date is that Brazil is not only a Continent due to its colossal size but it is a dichotomy between a first world economy in the South East ( Rio, Sao Paulo, Florianopolis, Porto Alegre) and then the third world which is the rest of the country.
[2] Most internet cafes don’t have a 2.0 USB port. Especially, outside the 1st world and prices vary between 1.5 euro and 4 euros an hour and between a 56 and 512 speed. Fastest speed I experienced was a T1 in Sao Paulo airport.
[3] In Brazil the country is littered with public phones with the number 31 on it. Basically if you want to make a call within the country you have to type 031 + prefix (e.g. 11 SP) and then number.
[4] Reception frequencies can be very wobbly if not non-existent in parts of the north.
[5] Agua de Cocas can be bought for R$ 50c in the north i.e 12/13 cents back home.
[6] Internal flights in Brazil are exorbitant. Already mentioned in a previous blog but worth commenting on again. If possible, if travelling extensively in Brazil, more than likely best by and air bus ticket from home with one of the star alliance members before you come.
[7] There are little or no train services in the country. It’s primarily buses, then flights and next cars. Outside of the 1st world regions and outside the main cities around the country the roads are poor. Doing a highway 1 or a route 66 is not a real runner. However you could rent a buggy and take on the distance going from beach to beach if you had the time.
[8] There are a huge variety of fruits and vegetables. But I haven’t seen a turnip, cabbage or goose berries on my travels. Not yet.
[9] In the few youth hostels that I was in it is well worth having an international youth hostel one year membership card. You can nearly always get 10% off the price.
[10] Some bus rides for example Porto Alegre to Manuas can take up to 4 days. As such they have some of the most comfortable buses you can imagine. Fully reclining chairs, TVs, videos, chefs, shower facilities. Basically, close to 1st class service on a plane.
[11] Was enquiring about a 3 bedroom, 65m, 5th floor apartment, in a good area, 3km away from the beach resort of Ponta Negre in Natal. The cost was approximately 29k euros. Not a bad little investment considering the city is becoming recognised as Brazil’s surf city and is constantly beginning to swell in numbers.
[12] When getting a taxi you can take your standard car taxi or take a ride on the back of a motor bike for a little cheaper. Felt strange the first time seeing it and taking one but now its par for the course.
In Manuas, in the centre of Brazil It`s hot, real hot. And it's humid, real humid. Taxi man told us that it hit 40c at midday. I`d believe him. Hottest ,most humid weather i have experiemced in Brazil since i`ve been here. Actually,probably the hottest place i have ever been to, ever. Tomorrow will be field research. We need to hunt down the best 4 or 5 jungle tour we can get our hands on with hight quality conditoins, a good English speaking guide, high octane food and a reasonable price. So far we have been hounded by tour operators peddling their goods. Some are complete chancers that promise you a wrestle with an amacondo, a dance with a snake and a slap up meal with an indigenous tribe that haven`t seen gringoes ever before! Others offer you a trip to a five star jungle hotel that will bring you on multiple one day excursions down rivers, into national parks frought with a wide range of monkeys, snakes and spiders, piranha fishing and a jungle tour that will teach you about the municipal wonders of the magical Amazon vegetation. Others off you a bit of both which we are trying to get our hands on.
Will let you know how it pans out when I get back. Hopefully, i don`t make too many friends with the mosquitoes or creepy crawlies!
I’m in the two million plus beach city Fortaleza to the north of Brazil. I’m basking in 29 degrees of sunshine, tapping away on my laptop, wearing my speedos, drinking a refreshing glass of iced Guarana and watching bronzed people dipping into and relaxing by the pool. It’s now day three of the winter carnival. The first two days have been unforgettable. I’ve never experienced anything like it in my life. And both my partners, hounds and masters in anarchy and hedonisms: Chief and Maddog, agree, the Brazilians know how to party in a way that none of us have ever dreamed of before in Ireland, and, in a way we all agree would be hard to match anywhere in the world. We’ve all done our fair share of travelling over the years, but none of us can remember having such a non-stop, rollercoaster, run of fun like we’ve had these last few days. And the beauty of it all is there is more to come! Nossa!
I’m sure you’ve heard how the old saying goes: sometimes words are simply not enough to explain the true meaning or feeling of a place or experience. Sometimes words allow you sketch or charcoal an image or concept. But that’s it. There often circumscribed. Sometimes you need more than letters and numbers to paint a true picture. You need other tools. You need more senses, more mediums; more methods. You need different brushes, inks and papers. This is such a time. This is the carnival. You have to see the colours, smell and taste the food, you have to let the music shoot into your ears and reverberate through and envelope your heart and soul, you have to shake your booty like you’re a big giant African Momma, you got to jump as high as you can clapping, shouting and roaring with the people to your front, back, left and right. You have to take on the persona of the Brazilians on their home turf doing their world famous home thing. You have to come to Brazil. No video, no DVD, no TV program, no book, no blog can come close to describing how much fun it is. You got to haul your ass down here and shake it if you want to know what the carnival is all about.
This is how the last two days have panned out. Oh yeah, before I go on let me explain one fundamental thing about the carnival. The carnival can be the one they have in Rio were you see flamboyant floats with dancing, smiling people on top dressed in bright, exotic over the top costumes. Or in some cases not dressed at all except for a few bits of string and the odd pin here and there. This is more of a pageant then a carnival. Bit like Paddy’s day. You don’t really take part, its more a spectator spectacle. Then you have the other type of carnival which is: get it there, get dirty, sweaty, take a major part in carnival. This type of carnival is the Salvador type carnival where the majority of the music played is by the famous musicians of Salvador. I prefer the interactive, hands on, ears in, hips gyrating approach.
Carnival takes place on the streets. In this case a 4km strip of road parallel to a beach front. Stands are erected on the side of the street and tall hotels and apartment blocks full of colourful people line the streets and fill the air. To get access to the main areas of the carnival we had to pay 50 euros per day. For that you get a sleeveless pink, yellow or orange t-shirt, depending on what day you want to attend. To start everybody meets on a street and stands just behind a large open double decker bus. Then hundreds of stewards get a rope and squadron off the immediate street area beside the bus. Leaving only the curb areas free for those who have not paid for their t-shirt. At about 9pm, or 9.30 the band kick off and the mayhem begins. In our case we went for the famous Chicolete com Banana band. The U2 of Samba. I already saw them once before and once again they didn’t let me down. Their instruments threw sparks into the smiles, hips and feet of the people and lit the place on fire. Everyone loves these guys. If you can get your hands on one of their CDs, do so. I plan on bringing home at least three or four of their albums before I leave Brazil. Anyway, so there you are, behind the bus. There are thousands of people wearing ridiculous t-shirts, everyone is wearing shorts, drinking beer, whiskey or vodka, and non stop, dancing, bouncing and kissing.
The kissing ethic is worth a note. Basically, anything goes in between the ropes. What you have is a load of people out for a good time. You simply have to dance beside a person, try make eye contact, grab a hip, cheekily pinch a bum, stroke a hand or throw a kiss, and that’s it. You know pretty quickly if you are going to get a red card or a green card. Chief on the first night chalked up 45 red cards and 5 green cards. Maddog 23 red cards and 3 green cards. The vagabond, well, let’s just say that the vagabond, like a gentleman, never gives away his antics. That said, Eusebius chalked up 4 reds and a green; Brutos got 68 reds and 3 greens. And that was only the first night. When we all got the swing of it the following night was even more chaotic.
The carnival is like the tour de France. You`ve had one tough day climbing the Pyrenees and need a well earned rest when the alarm clock goes off at 2pm in the evening and you have to get yourself ready again for the physical onslaught. Quick wash, few hours’ sun, a few coconuts and a speedy plate of grub and off again. It’s only day two and Chief is begging for a lip transplant, Jim has a dodgy ankle and my legs could do with a good massage. We have to keep reminding ourselves that we have trained for this type of thing long into the night in the pubs of Dublin, Waterford and abroad for over 15 years and we have to plough on no matter what the physical or emotion consequences. By the end of tomorrow I can see us sleeping a full day to catch up.
Last night we went to the carnival with some two foot tall Irish hats and my camcorder. We got a very warm reception. Chief kept saying that we were conducting a documentary for a local TV channel in Ireland and that he needed a kiss on the camera to show the people back home how Brazilian women kiss. Amazingly it worked. It’s amazing when you a put a camera in some peoples faces what they’ll do. Jim had a different approach, 50 press ups and 10 chins ups on the beach on the way to the carnival, to inflate his biceps, a few stretches of the legs and hips to get ready for the dancing, and loads of “Hey, hey….how are you, one kiss please”. Amazingly it worked. The dogs had a different approach. Eusebius just danced slowly and methodically and waited for the odd Brazilian dog to throw him a glance. He did alright out of it. And surprisingly was very confident with himself when the opportunities arose. Eusebius was like a gattlin gun, anything that moved in his range, he tried to shoot. Considering the amount of red cards and nasty looks he got, it was amazing his ego wasn’t deflated. Paradoxically, he seemed to thrive on it.
I hear some of you out there already ask about quality. To describe this I don`t have to write too much. The simple fact of the matter is that Brazilian women are beautiful as a rule of thumb. They really know how to look after themselves. No pint drinking or major food binges. More like buckets of dancing, exercising and sun bathing. The quality was high with the odd lapse here and there.
Unfortunately, I can’t produce any photos for you as I lost my camera in Rio and in the process of trying to retrieve it. However there is a few snaps up on the blog from some of my recent antics in Sao Paulo with the boys.
Salvador is all about constant thundering drumbeats; acrobatic capoeira dancers; huge stretches of white, brown and pebbled beaches; Africana-Brazilians wearing resplendent bright colours, skilful beach soccer players and head shaking, body swaying, smoke blowing reggae, afoxe and samba music. I’ve never seen so many dreadlocks or drums in my life! Everywhere you look someone is dancing to or making music, kicking a ball or trying to put a multicoloured “welcome to Bahia ribbon” on your wrist. The place is a live with positive energy. I know now why the majority of Brazilians I’ve met unanimously agree that it is the number one city to experience the world famous February carnival. Forget Rio, Salvador is wear it’s at for carnival if you want to get stuck in and take part.
To appreciate the city, its culture and its people you need to know a little about its history. According to legend the city was founded by an Italian navigator, Amerigo Vespucci, in 1501. In 1549 it became Brazil’s first capital. Salvador remained the most important city for two centuries growing rich on exports of sugar cane, gold and diamonds, tobacco, imports of African slaves and cattle ranching in the inland (sertao) regions. It was also world famous for its sensuality and decadence-until 1763 when the sugar cane industry began to faulter and Rio usurped pole position. The city experienced economic problems in the 19th century but nowadays with growing petroleum, chemicals and –helped by a face lift of the beautiful historical centre-tourism. However, for all its development and progression it ostensibly suffers chronic social problems with homeless people, street crime and prostitution rife.
The adventure started in Salvador the minute we left the airport. I took the very reasonable airport bus (2 euro, one way) to get to the port area Pelourinha which is situated bang in the cultural-centre of the city. The bus ride was one of the best I ever took. It was one and a half hours in length and rich in spectacles. I gladly would have paid double the price and stayed on double as long. Before getting to Salvador I had never realises there was so many beaches. And I never, for once, thought the city was by and large so intrinsically based on an ocean lifestyle. You learn quickly how to adapt when travelling. And before I knew it I was swinging my hips and banging my fingers to a mysterious beat on the seat in front of me. The dogs couldn’t stop wagging their tails and even the young surf board carrying 12 year old beside me was humming an Ivete Sangalo tune as we cruzed along.
My estimate is that the beaches run for about 15 miles. I’ll have to check up a book to confirm it but either way I’d say I’m not too far off the mark. I’ve never seen such a long stretch of beaches in a city before. And all the people seem to be on them. Half the population seems to be skating, cycling, running, walking, catching buses or selling pop corn, sweet corn or coconuts in little palm tree kiosks beside the beach. The other half are playing soccer, pumping weights, body boarding, surfing and snorkelling on the beach. It’s amazing to take it in from the slow moving window of a bus. When I arrived it was about 6pm and the light was fading, the sun was beginning to hide behind an ominous looking grey pall of puffy clouds and a gentle wind had starred to stir, but despite the atypical weather elements it didn’t seem to stop the people coming out in their throngs and thongs. There were thousands of bikinis, sarongs, Bermudas and Havianas on show. And amazingly, like a dream come true, there was almost a soccer match on every beach we passed. One thing that struck me about these games was the variety of pitches and balls that were in use: asphalt, grass, sand and mud; tennis balls, melons, coconuts and real deal footballs. Very cool. More affirmations for why they dominate soccer. The place was banging and hop-bobbing-throbbing with fun. And I couldn’t stop dreaming I was out there. I could see myself with the Irish number three “Deco” jersey the boys from work gave me before I left. I’d be out there strutting my Irish stuff against the Brazilian artists. Big punt up the middle Big Jack style, a shout for Ireland, a few sliding tackles, dirty elbows and an eye gauge, a cross from Brutos at the by line, a knock down from Eusebius, and as sweet as a ripe coconut a left footed half-volley from yours truly into the top right hand corner of the net. Boom! Bang! Keeper covered in dust. Brazilian boys’ mouths open. Ref pointing to the half way line. Nice one. 1-0 to the Gringo! Put that in your straw pipe and smoke it J……….. No need to laugh……… I`m serious………… It’s going to happen one of these days. Mark my words.
Monday was a quiet night due to transit tiredness but with the cells recharged 24 hours later we were ready to take on the town. Tuesday night in Salvador is a big night. Very big. I’ve never known such an atmosphere surrounding a Tuesday night in any other part of the world I’ve visited or read about. I had previously reported that Monday night can be a big night in Sao Paulo. But while a Monday night in Sao Paulo is like a normal Thursday night with its fair share of life leading up to a weekend. Tuesday night in Salvador is like a full on action packed Saturday night. Let me explain. It starts in the square in the cultural centre of the city. At about 6pm a huge stage is set up for some of the local bands and about 50 stalls are set up surrounding the square mostly selling chilled cans of Skol or Bohemia beer, skewers of a wide variety of meats, sweet cakes, big and small, exotic smoothies with fruits you’ve never heard the name of and don’t want to try pronounce and capoeira and samba paraphernalia. In addition, there is a huge number of individuals, children mostly, constantly asking you if you want your shoes shined, want to buy some cashew nuts, want some grilled mozzarella cheese or want to buy a drum. One punter even offered me a big bottle of Teacher’s whiskey for 10 euros. Declined on that one but I took one little boy up on a shoe shine and another on the delectable, mouth watering, addictively chewy grilled cheese skewer. Sex for the stomach.
On the night the Brazilian famous “Olodum” samba band were playing at Largo de Tereza Batista on Rua Gregorio de Matos 53. It`s the main attraction. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see them but luckily enough I got to hear some of them. Basically, by the time I arrived to see them the doors were closed. I’ll be going back in three weeks time so I don’t intend to make the same mistake again. Having said that we were very fortunate to see some of the countries most talented capoeria dancers in action.
Capoeira is a martial art that was devised by the Brazilian slaves in the eighteenth century. For centuries that slaves were not allowed to practice martial arts of any description so they cunningly devised an art of their owned that looked like an acrobatic dance but it used in the right manner in combat was lethal. The dance consists of between 4-10 people standing around in a semi-arc. One or two are playing precussion instruments and singing and one by one the performers get a chance to throw themselves around. The best way I can describe it is as a mix of astanga yoga, kung fu and gymnastics all rolled into one. Mostly, the participants spend 30 seconds on stage and then someone else comes in. Sometimes you will see two of the dancers joust together but most the performances I saw consisted of one person back flipping, bouncing on their hands in a hand stand position, cart wheeling into a double flip, high kicking or free flipping from the ground without the use of hands into the air. I had seen it once or twice in Ireland but it was nothing compared to the Bahia performers. Much more athletic, much more flamboyant and much much more technical. Amazing. Their skill and fitness blew me away. Brutos wants to give it a go next time we go back. He’s so serious about it he bought some of the caopeira pants. I hope he doesn’t break his neck when he gives it ago. He always injures himself when he tries to mimic professional athletics. I’ll try get a snap of it when it happens.
The third and last day in Salvador consisted of a two and a half hour bus ride, 80km north, to the highly recommended Pria de Forte. Pria de Forte is a beach resort with a ruined fortress and famous turtle sanctuary. When there I got an Indian hena-ink tattoo of a scorpion moving to a Chinese peace symbol on my bicep ( you can check it out in the photos), I got some acupuncture on my right ear and I took in an excellent massage. I also managed to cram in some of the Brazil v Paraguay copa de America qualifier and get a little sun.
I’m now back in Sao Paulo and with two other dogs from Ireland: the polymath-circumnavigator Chief O’Hara and the fearsome-merciless-man mountain, rip your head off with his bare hands (and worse dancer that I know!!!) Maddog McKeever. The hunting is about to get very interesting. Already one of them has found a bone. Amazing considering their only here two days!
I’ve managed to finally compress some of my photos from a variety of my recent trips. There up in the new Brazilian photo folder. Hope you enjoy them.
