This Girl’s On Ipanema…and Leme...and on Sugar Loaf Mountain.
I awoke refreshed to another bright
and very sunny Rio morning. With breakfast of cereal and milk, passionfruit
yogurt, a ham and cheese-filled croissant, fresh fruit and coffee consumed, I
was ready to hit the sightseeing trails again. And this time I would cover two
more Rio Highlights—Sugar Loaf Mountain and famed Ipanema Beach.
Shower done, I dressed and was out
the door by 8.30 am as my guidebook had told me to get to Sugar Loaf Mountain
as early as possible, both to beat the heat and the crowds. Into the Metro
train I popped and rode it south to Botafogo metro station from where I took a
connecting bus to Urca. Getting to Sugar Loaf Mountain is a bit of a production
as it a bit out of the way and has no direct access. Still, I was proud of the fact that I found
the right bus stop and the right bus despite the debilitating language barrier.
Sugar Loaf Mountain has neither
sugar (or sugarcane) nor loaves anywhere near it. It is so-called because its
conical shape reminded early Portuguese settlers of the conical molds used for
the straining of sugarcane juice for making sugar and cashaca, the fermented liqeur
that goes into caprinhas. Like Corcovado, it is visible from many parts of Rio
and sits, quite prettily, in lovely Guanabarra Bay which is dotted with sailing
craft.
As in the case of Corcovado, there
is a contraption that gets you up the mountain—only this one isn’t a
picturesque tram that runs through a rain forest but a modern-day, very spiffy
cable car hanging on thick cables. For the sum of R62(approx.. $21) that
included the return ride to and fro as well as entry to the summit, a visitor
has just as stunning a selection of postcard views of the city—and this time
with very little aggravation for there are fewer tourist hordes.
So, joining other visitors in their
quest for the cable car station, I found it tucked away at the end of the
street on which the bus had let me off. I bought my ticket and ascended into
the very modern cable car boarding station and was soon leaving Mother Earth
behind and beginning my ascent to the top. It was a much clearer day too and
the city was not enshrouded in fog. As land grew more distant, we were dropped
off at the first landing level called Morro
de Urca (Urca Mountain) which offered really stunning views of Guanabarra
Bay from many angles as well as delightful sightings of commercial aircraft
taking off from the airport into the blue Brazilian skies. Of course, I did
take several pictures because my camera simply did not wish to stop. On the
opposite side, I could see Christ the Redeemer spreading forth His embracing
hands only to be covered in thick cloud every few minutes.
A short circumnavigation of the
mountain took us to the second landing dock for ascent to the next level.
Another short spurt in the cable car brought us to the summit of Sugar Loaf
Mountain as we climbed ever higher. Once up there, a fierce wind threatened
once again to blow off my baseball cap and I clung on to it for dear life. A
few paces ahead was a lovely look-out point that offered a stunning, unbroken
view of Copacabana Beach with its beige sands and its spiffy hotels on the
promenade. From other parts of the mountain, one could spy still more
attractive curves and angles of this beautiful city. There were many
opportunities, in fact, to receive bird’s-eye views of Rio which is not common
in other cities. It is easy to take in the seamless connections between nature
and human development for every structure seems to have been carefully
considered in terms of where or how it would fit within the complicated land
and sea scape. It was really a pretty introduction to the city from a darling
vantage point and I do think that although Christ the Redeemer is the more
famous of the two locales, Sugar Loaf Mountain has much more going for it.
On Vermelha Beach and the Claudio
Coutinho Trail:
Upon
reaching ground level, I briskly went in search of a Trail named after Claudio
Coutinho, a famous Brazilian football player. It is to be found at the base of
Sugar Loaf Mountain and comprises a footpath that has been cut into the
mountain following the curve of the sea. In attempting to find it, I was on the
sands of the much-lesser known Vermelha (Red) Beach which is devoid of tourists
but filled with locals enjoying the sun, sea, sand and surf. I sat on the stone
parapet overlooking the waves for a long while and munched on a sandwich as I
watched fifty shades of Brazilian bodies gleam in the sun.
For what is remarkable about
Brazilians, as I discovered on this visit, is how multi-racial they are. Truly,
as in India, you can find every shade of complexion in this complex land—from
Caucasian white (direct descendants of the Portuguese colonial settlers who
arrived with the ‘discovery’ of Brazil by Pedro Cabral in the early 1500s) to
Afro-Brazilians (descendants of African slaves brought to Brazil by the Portuguese
from their colonies in Angola and Mozambique) and every shade in-between as a
result of the immense inter-racial co-habitation that has gone on in Brazil for
centuries. If there is any form of racism in Brazil, I was not made aware of it
during my short stay. Instead I found people living in great harmony together
irrespective of their skin color or class—for it is also evident that, as in
India, there are a plethora of economic levels of prosperity. Extraordinarily
wealthy Cariocas (as seen in the sophisticated coffee shops) share space with
the homeless and with beggars—both of whom I saw on the streets very
frequently.
After I spent a while musing and enjoying
the hssh-hssh of the waves on Vermelha Beach where I spotted surfers, kayakers,
swimmers and sun-bathers, I began my trek along the lovely pathway named for
Coutinho. I also discovered, while in Brazil, that all the surnames with which
I am completely familiar through my Indo-Goan heritage, are pronounced quite
differently in India (where they have become heavily Anglecized). For instance,
Coutinho is pronounced Coo-tin-yo. And Noronha is pronounced No-ron-ya. Moraes
is pronounced Mo-raish and Soares is pronounced Su-or-aish. Mendes, therefore,
becomes Men-daish. Keeping my ear closely sensitive to the sound of words as
they are pronounced on the Portuguese tongue, I found great similarities with
French. For example, it is customary to greet anyone you meet with the words Bom Dia which is pronounced Bonjia—its similarly
to the French Bonjour which is also
used to mean Good Day and begins any conversation is surprisingly similar.
The Trailway was as delightful as I
expected. It is not very populated so I did not expect throngs. But I was not
afraid as there is an army base close by and the presence of military personnel
in uniform was evident everywhere. On this trail, I passed by very pretty birds
that looked like parrots but were very differently colored—I believe they are
called tanagers. I also saw what looked like kingfishers with long sharply
pointed beaks. Seagulls and dark black cormorants were everywhere bathing and sunning
themselves on the rocks that jutted into the crashing waves. On the bottom,
where the ocean met the land floor, I saw fishermen trying their luck. Families
were picnicking on the edge of the trail seated on benches that afforded lovely
views of Vermelha Beach. Indeed, it was a perfect morning for a walk and I
enjoyed the trail very much. About a half hour into the walk, I turned around as
I still had a great deal of exploring left to do for the day and did not want
to tire myself out too much.
Back at the bus stop, I found the
bus that would take me to Ipanema—another lovely long bus ride through the
warrens of the city showed me many different faces of it. I loved the experience
of traveling with local Cariocas and of becoming a part of their daily commute
to work or their daily chores. I asked a girl seated in front of me to tell me
when to hop off for I was headed to Ipanema and her English was good enough for
her to assure me that she would do the needful.
Like Copacabana, Ipanema Beach is
famous globally. It was a song that put it on the tourist map—a song called The Girl From Ipanema with which all
jazz enthusiasts are familiar. I was keen to get a bit of the local action there
and when I got off at the Vincius Moraes stop, I could already smell the salt
tang of the sea air. It took me two seconds to discover that Ipanema is a far
cry from Copacabana. The approach to the latter is still seedy, run-down,
unimpressive. The former, well…it turns out to be the most sought-after address
is Rio and the hang out of all the most beautiful people. Trendy restaurants,
high-end stores, designer fashion boutiques—they are all here in the three long
streets and many by-lanes that compose the area.
But
I wasn’t there for the shopping—it was the beach I was after. And when I got
there, I found another endless stretch of black and white mosaic stone pavement
and a wide white sand beach behind it. The waters were equally azure but the
waves were far more in control for the tide was probably out. It was a good time to
wet my toes and peeling off my sandals, I waded in gasping at first at the
coolness of the water and then enjoying it immensely. Many pictures later (for
these land and seascapes just beg to be photographed), I was off. At Zona Sul, a lovely upscale supermarket
on the corner of one of the streets, I stocked up on more food for the next few
days—more custard apples (I simply could not get enough of them!), gorgonzola
cheese, bottled water.
Then
I walked to the subway and while on it heading home to Gloria for a much-needed
rest, I read up on the history of the song that put Ipanema on the global map.
Indeed, the long roadoin which I had been walking (Rua Vincinus Moraes) was
named after the song’s lyricist—he and composer Antonio Carlos Jobim had
created it in 1962 based on the fact that they would see daily a very beautiful
young girl walk past the bar at which they drank and make her way to the sea.
They knew that she was far above their league—she was young, they were faded
musicians; she was privileged, they were penniless. They wrote the song for her
because both of them fell in love with the image of this gorgeous girl and
because Age had bestowed on them a certain truth of which she was unaware—that Time
would rob her of her beauty, her vivacity, her hopefulness. So, the song is not
just about falling in love but about regret at our inability to hold back the cruel
hand of Time—rather like Shakespeare’s Sonnets really. It won the Grammy Award
for Song of the Year in 1965 after Frank Sinatra recorded it with English
lyrics written by Norman Gimbel.
Back
home, I put my groceries away in the fridge and lay down for a while. At 4 pm,
I awoke, got freshened up and walked to the Windsor Florida Hotel to attend a
session at the conference that I was keen to hear. Right after it ended at 5.
30, we were supposed to be taken on a Walking Tour of the city entitled “Walking
Between Night Lights in Downtown Rio” by Dr. Joao Baptista Ferreira de Mello,
professor at the State University of Rio. But sadly, the skies had turned
rain-ridden and the good professor decided to call the walk off.
Dinner on the sands of Leme Beach:
Plan B went into action. The 12 of
us who had signed up to take the walk decided to go out for dinner instead—to Leme
Beach which adjoins Copacabana Beach—and that was what we did. We piled into
taxis and hit the sands and, in one of the beach shacks, decided to eat the
offerings of a very modest eatery. The waves made fine music in the background
as Prof. Anna Sodolewska from Poland and I decided to share a plate of 10
bacalau balls and a giant plate of Brazilian fish—they served the curried fish
whole —with rice and salad. Nothing to rave about, I’m afraid, but the joy of
sipping another frosty caprinha on the sands of Leme was romantic and I soaked
it all in.
By 8. 30 pm, we were done for the
evening—yeah, we profs are a rockin’ and rollin’; lot!—and into cabs we piled.
I shared one with Prof. Theo from Metropolitan College in New York who dropped
me at my building and carried on to his hotel in Cinelandia.
All it took then were a few minutes
for me to prepare for bed with brushing and flossing of my teeth and PJs to
piled into.
Until tomorrow, ciao!
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