An Exhausting Day in Rio Spent Mainly on our Feet

Wednesday, June 5, 2019

Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

An Exhausting Day In Rio Spent Mainly on our Feet

Bom Dia from Rio de Janeiro!

Today we got so carried away in our enthusiasm to complete seeing as much as we could in this endlessly fascinating city that we were properly exhausted by the end of the day and could barely sit down.

So let’s begin. Here’s what we did. First of all, the day was actually sunny and deciding to make the most of it, we thought of going on foot through the area of Gloria, which is where we were based, and to Lapa, which is the adjoining neighborhood. Fueled with a breakfast of muesli with passion fruit yogurt, we were ready to get going.

Exploring Lapa:

Lapa was probably a very run-down neighborhood that has seen recent gentrification in the shape of the sprouting of clubs, pubs and bars that are lending the area a lively vibe especially after dark. We passed by very old structures that have not seen much refurbishment but gave us a good idea of what old Rio would have looked like. At the Church of Our Lady of Lapa, Llew got his first idea of how strongly the Portuguese influenced the design of church altars in their colonies from Goa to Brazil. The altars are in tiered steps with the main deity given pride of place though a huge statue at the top.

The Seladon Staircase:

This staircase has, quite unwittingly, become a big tourist attraction in Rio. It was initiated in 1999 through the efforts of a local artist called Jorge Seladon who decided to brighten up the steps leading from Lapa to Santa Teresa by imbedding ceramic tiles into them. The idea caught on and very soon people from all over the world began to donate tiles to add to the structure. About 2000 very colorful ceramic tiles today cover the steps on which tourists pose. I was quite fascinated by the lovely tiles especially those from Islamic countries which have bas-reliefs that make them exceptional. Llew and I also posed for pictures here. Apparently, Seladon considers this a work in progress. Every time he has finished one segment of it, he strips it off and starts again. 

The Aqueduct of Lapa and Streetcar Ride to Santa Terasa:

Making a sharp left turn from the narrow lane that leads to the staircase, we were back on the main road and facing the towering structure known as the Aqueduct of Lapa. My notes told me that in the days before it became popular to relax at the beaches, Cariocas (natives of the city of Rio) built mansions in the hills of Santa Teresa. In order to make sure that water reached them, however, they needed to build an aqueduct—and build it they did! It is a lovely, impressive, two-tier structure with uniform arches that remind one very much of France’s Pont du Gard—except that there are three tiers there. Water pipes were laid on the structure and water did get up to the wealthy. 

In addition to water, the rich residents needed to make sure they could also get up and down the hill—and so, at the same time that the Aqueduct was built, they also created a street car system with lovely old-fashioned stations—which are now one of the most antiquated attractions of the city for it offers visitors joy rides to the top and back. 

The last time I was in Rio, I was unable to ride it as it was temporarily closed for refurbishment (in time for the 2016 Olympics in Rio). This time round, it was available for the pleasure of visitors and Llew and I asked local policemen where we could board it. Using their directions, we arrived at the embarkation point, about a five minute walk away. 

The ride cost us 20 reals each (about $5) and was a return fare. There was a street car leaving just as we got there—which made it easy for us to board it and go off and away. The streetcars themselves have not changed since the 19th century—they are built entirely of wood and are painted a bright yellow and brown. As they chug up the Aqueduct, they make a very picturesque sight below. 

Llew and I enjoyed our ride up to the hills of Santa Teresa and back. As one left the spiffy modern glass and concrete jungle of the base, one saw more and more mansions—many in quite a dilapidated state although a lot of them have been renovated and are quite reminiscent of the mansions in the urban areas of Goa. We took a lot of pictures. As we climbed higher and higher into the hills, we were rewarded with stunning views of the city spread out beneath us. 

Once we reached the top, however, we found nothing really there. We had thought of getting a coffee in a little cafe, if there was one. But we were disappointed and instead of waiting for a half hour for the next street car to come by, we simply jumped into the very same one and returned to base. This took us another half an hour...but the weather was holding out superbly and we had a chance to enjoy the heights of the city  through a most novel form of transportation. It was one of the most interesting experiences we enjoyed in Rio.

     

A Walking Tour of Downtown Rio:

Four years ago, when I had visited Rio on my own, I had carried notes from Lonely Planet. And, of course, after I visit a country, I blog about it in detail. Llew was unable to find Lonely Planet in the library and photocopied notes from Fodor. I used my blog notes, however, to supplement the notes he had carried and based on my memories of my last exploration, I led him on a tour of the downtown area.

Visiting the Metropolitan Cathedral:

The Metropolitan Cathedral is unmistakeable as its modernist conical shape is easily distinguishable all over the downtown area. We found our way there on foot and made a quick prayerful visit. The Cathedral is huge and is able to seat 5,000 members of a congregation with standing room for 20,000. It is distinguished for its four stained glass windows in primary colors: red, blue, green and yellow, that are also in Modernist design. The Cathedra or chair of the Cardinal is very prominent in the front. A lot of tourists make this a stop as the city sightseeing buses stop here on a regular basis.

The Glorious Sculpture of Cinelandia Square:

I absolutely love the grand sculpture of Cinelandia Square that features King Dom Pedro II of Portugal surrounded by depictions of the Amazon Indians that are related to the four rivers of the world: the Parauna, The San Francisco, The Amazon and one other The Indians are so realistically depicted, complete with native costume and head dresses that I was tempted to photograph them from every angle. 

Cinelandia Square gets its name from the fact that the area was once the stronghold of the entertainment industry and showed every manner of theatrical show and film in it vicinity. There are still some theaters to be found in this area such as the Teatre Joao Cetano. The area is also usually quite filled with dodgy, homeless characters—which does not make it very pleasant to hang out there.

A Disappointing Lunch:

En route to Cinelandia Square, we passed a restaurant that had a big sign outside it in Portuguese advertising Brazil’s National dish, Feijoada, which is a pork and black bean stew that takes many hours to prepare. As such, it is usually served in very select places only at the weekend. We misunderstood the sign and thought that we could eat feijoada there—I was keen for Llew to taste it as I had eaten some of it, four years ago.

As it turned out, the dish was only served on Friday and Saturday and we were unable to partake of it. However, being hungry by that point, we decided to stay there and ended up having a most disappointing meal of skewered and grilled kale and bean balls and shrimp. We also ordered a salad but this too was nothing to write home about. My Caprinha was very good, however, and I have to say that I ordered one wherever I had the chance to do so. Llew stuck to Argentinean Malbec.

After our very disappointing lunch, we decided to continue our walking tour. Sadly, by this point, it had started to drizzle and we dodged the rain as we continued with our walking tour. We found Avenida Passos which is filled with antiquated churches (many of which were closed) and rather run-down old buildings for we were in the heart of Old Rio that has not seen much improvement in years. 

The Real Gabinete Library:

This place, however, is one of the show-stoppers of the city and I was very keen that Llew, who is an avid bibliophile, should see it. We found it tucked away on a street that is named after Portugal’s most famous writer, Luis de Camoes, who wrote the country’s national epic, O Lusidas.  Built in the 1500s, this grand building, gorgeous on the outside and decorated with life-size sculptures of some contemporary worthies, is simply spectacular within. You enter through what looks like a palace and find yourself in a large Gothic-inspired space, like a Medieval hall, which contains about 150,000 leather-bound books in several tiers that surround wrought-iron floors and shelves. The interior ornamentation is so beautiful that it is hard to take your eyes off the many delights that the space offers. We were also thrilled to see a first edition of Camoes’ great work in a glass vitrine as well as newer translations of the same work in many different languages. Llew was just besides himself with happiness and was thoroughly pleased about what he could see.

When we had taken our fill of this incredible space, we paused to take some more pictures of the exterior and then we continued with our walk that led us to the neighboring church of St. Francis.                     

Off to Colonial Rio:

It was time then to leave the busy downtown area behind us with its crowds and its shoppers and make our way to the more stately part of the city that was characterized by three outstanding buildings: The Paco Imperial or Royal Palace, the Praca XV November Square and the Monastery of St, Bento (Monasterio de Sao Bento).

It was a very long walk through some of the busiest parts of commercial Rio filled with grand old solid buildings that reminded me very much of the Fort area in Bombay and get to the square that is known as Praca XV November. It is characterized by a vast space that has an equestrian sculpture of Dom Pedro in the center on a lofty pedestal. The square is surrounded by colonial buildings with wrought-iron balconies that reminded me very much of some parts of Panjim in Goa that have the exact same Portuguese aesthetic. We took a few pictures in this space and took a look at the Arc of Telles—another old colonial structure that leads the visitor into a very old part of the city with a very atmospheric vibe. We did not go through the arch, however as we were already pretty tired and wanted to conserve our energy to see the Monasterio which is a masterpiece of Baroque religious design.

The Paco Imperial (Imperial Palace):

   The Imperial Palace was only a short block away and we found it very easily by making a sharp left turn on Ave Rio Branco. This gorgeous building that is maintained in perfect condition, was once the seat of colonial Brazil. When Dom Pedro moved his courtly base from Lisbon to Rio (following the invasion of Portugal by Napoleon), this building became the seat of governance. It is characterized by lovely large classical sculptures. However, we were unable to get inside as the place seemed to be mobbed by hundreds of people who appeared to have tickets to enter the building for a particular event. It was very impressive from the outside, though, and we were glad we had a chance to see it.

Visiting the Monasterio de Sao Bento:

It is often said that if one has the time to see just one church in Rio, it should be this one. Having visited it earlier on a Sunday, when the Gregorian chant was a part of the Mass, I was clear that I wanted Llew to see this place. During the week, it is open to visitors, although it does not have the drama of incense or Gregorian music that makes it so atmospheric. 

  We had a very hard time finding the place (as we had a really small and very irritating map to help us out) and ended up taking a cab to get to the monastery. I did remember that it was at the top of a winding hill and both Llew and I had walked for several miles already and were starting to feel fatigued. I had no energy left to go out in search of this place and was very grateful when the cabbie dropped up the crest of the hill. There we found ourselves looking at a rather plain church that was flanked by twin bell towers in colonial design.

Just past the entrance, however, the visitor gets the shock of his life for the place becomes a super ornate space that has a main altar and several side chapels made of barley twist pillar altars and wooden carved facades that are then entirely gilded in pure gold. The effect is so arresting that you simply cannot stop taking pictures. As I have seen all these spots before, I knew what to expect, but I could see that Llew just stopped in his tracks as he encountered these amazing spaces. He too ended up taking a bunch of pictures before we left the space and made our way downhill on foot.

The Church of Our Lady of Candelaria (And an Unexpected Concert):

Although this entire area is dotted with churches (and after a while one blends into the other and one cannot remember what one is actually seeing), the Church of Our Lady of Candelaria stands out for its lovely colonial facade and deeply Baroque interior. One finds it if one walks south along Ave Rio Branco and in a sheltered square, the beautiful church beckons.

By this time, we were really deeply tired and Llew was also ‘churched out’—but I suggested he enter this church as it was so different from the ones we had seen all day. And boy oh boy, was he thrilled he entered it. 

The Church of our Lady of Candelaria was built originally by a couple in gratitude for favors received but not much remains of the original church. This one is almost entirely built in the 18th century and reminded us very much of grand-domed European churches such as St Paul’s Cathedral in London. It has lovely detailed plantings on the inside of the dome and the walls.

But the unexpected surprise was that there was the rehearsal of a full orchestral concert going on when we visited and we had the chance to actually listen to at least three items on the repertoire for the evening’s performance—one of which was the title song from Andrew Lloyd-Weber’s The Phantom of the Opera. You can just imagine how thrilled we were to catch this rehearsal and to listen to a composition that we know well done in a brilliant duet that really made our evening. I mean, how cool is that?    

Listening to the concert gave us the chance to rest our feet a bit until we were told that we had to leave as the orchestra were getting ready for the evening’s performance. Overall, though, it was another one of our fun experiences in Rio.

Off to Ipanema Beach:

With the weather still holding out, somewhat, we decided to take the metro and go to Ipanema Beach—which was one of the highlights on our agenda that we had to cover. It was already 4.00 pm and we were able to find the metro stop at Carioca which would permit us to ride to Gen. Osiris Metro station which was a good jumping off point for Ipanema Beach.

Outside Carioca Metro station, I had the chance to show Llew the two churches that are the oldest in Rio and which I had seen on my last visit. But Llew had enough of churches by this point and was ready to give it a rest. He was also very tired and was able to muster only enough energy (as I did) to make the Metro ride to Ipanema Beach as we did not want to leave Rio without seeing this famous beach.

As almost every one knows, Ipanema is associated with the famous song ‘The Girl from Ipanema” that was composed by Vincinius Morales who has a major street at the beach named after hm.The story states that he used to see this gorgeous women walking towards the beach each morning and was absolutely struck by her beauty, Knowing that she was way beyond his league, all he could do was compose a song that extolled her beauty—the song that became one of the classics of our time. 

Alas, by the time we arrived at Ipanema, the light was starting to fade as it is winter in the souther hemisphere and it does get dark rather early. We made a quick bee-line towards the shore and admired again the wonderful wavy patterns made with black and white Belgian block on all the beach front promenades of Rio—so that it has become a signature look for the city. Unfortunately, as in Copacabana, so too on Ipanema, there was no one on the sands and we had the beach to ourselves. However, the wind was rather strong and not wishing to linger too long, we crossed and made our way to the interior promenade where Llew wished to buy the famous Hawaianana rubber slippers as gifts ( I had bought a whole load of these myself the last time I was here and given them away as gifts). He was very happy to come upon a store right away from where he found exactly what he was seeking. With our buys in the bag, we went in search of a Starbucks as it was still much too early to settle down for dinner (although we did decide that our last dinner in Brazil would be at Ipanema).          

  We found the Starbucks soon enough—it was the same place where I had met my friend Anna-Teresa the last time I was here. This time she had not responded to my email message and so we did not have the opportunity to meet her. Llew and I ordered coffee but there is no decaf in Brazil (just as there is no decaf in Bombay). Neither of us ordered anything other than a chocolate cruffin (a cross between a croissant and a muffin). Llew and I both accessed our email through the WiFi at the coffee shop from where I also found suggestions for a restaurant for dinner. One of the suggestions was for a place called Joana Pizza and since a small meal was what we were after we decided to go there.

Dinner at Joanna Pizzeria:

We ended up ordering a pepperoni pizza at Jonna Pizzeria as they had a promotion deal on their classic pizzas. I also ordered a caprinha which I thought would be my last one in Brazil. Llew ordered a red Malbec and we also ordered a Caesar Salad. We really did enjoy our meal and I was able to take some of it packed off home as it was a tad too much for me. (I would be very grateful for it, the next morning at breakfast).

There was not much time to lose, once our dinner was done, as we were really pooped. The vibrant night life of Ipanema was beginning to come into its own but we were simply too exhausted to enjoy it. We found the metro station right away and, in no time at all, we were on our way back home, where we reached in about half an hour after what had been a really eventful day. 

Rosanna was home when we arrived. We spent the next half hour chatting with her before she called it a night and we followed suit. With almost all of Rio’s highlights covered in three days, we were free to spent the next day—the day of our departure—taking it very easy as we prepared to depart.

I know that this has been a very long post and you are probably fatigued just reading it. Just imagine how tired we were when we went to bed at night.

Until tomorrow... 

Last Day in Rio: Bits and Bobs of Sightseeing Accomplished.

    

Monday, June 15, 2015
Last Bits and Bobs of Rio Sightseeing Accomplished!

            I awoke on my last full day in Rio and took stock of my fridge—I needed to finish all my food supplies before I left my apartment at 6 pm for the taxi ride to the airport for my flight home. Yes, Siree Bob –all good things must come to an end and I had made use of every available moment in the Marvelous City and felt ready to get back home. Brekkie was all the bits and bobs I could rustle up including muesli with milk, croissant sandwiches (some of which I packed up for lunch and then early dinner as I would not be airborne till 10.00 pm).

            I spent the next hour packing, cleaning up my apartment and getting the garbage ready for disposal. I wanted to leave the place as pristine as it had been given me. Only when I felt all set to return to my apartment and leave immediately for the airport, did I shower, change and get out for the last time to see those parts of the city that I had not yet covered.

 Off to the Metropolitan Cathedral:

The first item on my agenda was the Metropolitan Cathedral of Rio, an unmistakable conical building that I could see from a distance every time I walked through the neighborhood. When I did get there, about 15 minutes later, I found a lot of people sprinkled around the pews in prayer. The Cathedral is a magnificent modern prayerful space that has no supporting pillars within. Four huge stained glass windows run from floor to the ceiling. They sport contemporary designs in keeping with the general design of the church. Each is in a dominant color: red, yellow, blue, green. The overall design is quite ingenious as it seats 5,000 people with standing room for 20,000! The catehdra or Cardinal’s Chair is very prominent in the front. Although I am not usually fond of modern churches, I thought this one was pretty special.

 The Presbyterian Church of Rio:

            On my way towards Cinelandia Square, which was the next item on my agenda—all within easy walking distance from where I lived—I passed by another striking Gothic-style church. It turned out to the Presbyterian Church of Rio and it had a wonderful sculpture in the front featuring the Brazilian priest who introduced the Presbyterian denomination to the country. I stepped inside briefly to take in the interior design which reminded me of most American Congregational churches. It is wonderful how in these spiritual places one can really turn off the bustle of the city and find quiet solace.

 Circumnavigating Cinelandia Square:

Within five minutes of leaving the church, I was in the lovely environs of Cinelandia Square—so-called because it is surrounded by cinema houses and in the 1930s became the center of movie-going in Rio. A few of the theaters that encircle the square still screen films. Dominated by the equestrian statue of Dom Pedro I, the monument in the center of the square reminded me very much of the Albert Memorial in Hyde Park, London, especially because it was flanked by four sculptures each of which represented a different South American river. Those sculptures are spectacular being surrounded, as they are, by native indigenous people of the rain forest. Other than taking pictures, however, there was not much to do. Besides the square was filled with Rio’s homeless and other dodgy sorts and I did not feel like lingering too long in those surroundings.

Inside the Real Gabinete Portugual de Leiture:

            My next port of call, also just five minutes away, up Avenida Passos, was the original Portuguese colonial library that was built in the ornate Manueline style in 1837. But en route to finding it, I passed by yet another church—by this time, I have to say that although I visited each of them, I found it hard to remember their names and the features that made them distinctive. In downtown Rio, there is literally a church every two blocks. Indeed each starts merging into the other but for anyone looking for places to pause in prayer, there is no dearth in Rio.

            The library which was just one street away on Rua Luis Camoes is grand from the outside and quite simply spectacular within. I noticed several other foreign visitors making a beeline for the space for indeed it is one of Rio’s hidden gems and I was mighty glad I had read several guidebooks that recommended a visit. Inside, I found myself entering a vast Gothic-style hall that reminded me immediately of the Pierpont Morgan Library in New York. In this cavernous room, there are over 150,000 antique, leather-bound books, paintings, sculpture and quite the largest wrought-iron chandelier I have ever seen. This can dip down all the way to the floor so that candles could be fitted into it and lighted and then the entire contraption is raised up to the ceiling to illuminate the space. Needless to say, in this day and age, fire of any sort is not allowed in the building which is fully electrified. Just to walk around the space and take in the two-tiered splendor of the library made my morning seem well spent. I would heartily urge every visitor to Rio not to miss this architectural gem. As it is still a working library for scholars doing historic study, it was nice to see readers pouring over manuscripts. Among its many treasures is a first edition of Portuguese poet Luis Camoes’ O Lusidas—which I had also seen in Portugal.

 The Church of St. Francis of Paula:

               My next visit was to yet another church—the Church of St. Francis of Paula which wears its age quite visibly on its sleeve—it is old and grey and faded, both inside and out. I was pleased to find it open as on another morning I had passed by and found its doors firmly shut. Here too the square surrounding the church is filled with seedy characters whiling away their time. In many ways, I was reminded of Bombay as I passed through these rubbish-lined streets.

 A Brief Visit to Casa Cave:

            A walk down one of the nearby lanes called Rue de Ouvidor then brought me, quite by chance, to another confectionary and coffee shop that had been written up in my guidebook: the Casa Cave. This chic French patisserie has been a Rio institution for centuries and after a recent thorough refurbishment looks spanking new. Inside, there were patrons flush with cash, sipping their coffee and savoring pastries and cakes. I would, no doubt, have enjoyed one such treat had I not been so stuffed after my fairly recent breakfast. So I regretfully toured the inside casually and moved on.

 The Convent of St. Anthony and St. Francis of Penetencia:

            My very last bits of sightseeing included two old and very beautiful churches perched high on a high overlooking the Carioca Metro station and it was there that I next headed. The Convent of St. Anthony is one of the oldest churches in Rio—it dates from the 1500s and the present church was built between 1506-1511. You take an elevator to the top if you do not wish to climb the winding hillside route that gets you to the church entrance. Inside, I found that Mass was in progress and that the church was fairly full. I did not linger long inside the church but did take the elevator to get down to the floor level again. Outside, I made a sharp left turn with the intention of seeing the Church of St. Francis, but als, it is closed on Mondays and I could not get inside.

 Off to Ipanema for the Last Time:

            It was about this time that the first drops of rain hit my head. I was grateful, therefore, to escape into the Underground train and ride it all the way to Ipanema with the idea of going in search of souvenir flipflops for a few close folks. But in the half hour that it took me to reach there, the heavens had opened big time and the drizzle had developed into a steady downpour. The temperature also fell dramatically and it turned quite chilly.

            Not having an umbrella with me, I had little choice but to brave the raindrops and off I went determinedly looking for the shop called Hawaianas. It was not long before I selected several pairs of slipflops which are mandatory beach gear on the sands of Rio—those together with the skimpiest bikinis and sarongs are the customary wear and I was happy to pick up some really colorful pairs for only a few dollars.

            With my goodies tucked in a bag, I passed by the snazzy stores of Ipanema and made my way to the metro station for the return ride home. I might have stayed longer but the rain put all such plans at bay. Half an hour later, I was home, eating a sandwich lunch, almost finishing up the last of my ice-cream and getting my bags organized for departure. I managed to do a good bit of reading while waiting for Rosana who was scheduled to arrive at 6.00 pm to put me in a cab, take ahold of her keys and say goodbye to me.

 Leaving Rio de Janeiro:

            Promptly at 6.00 pm, my doorbell rang and despite the rain (which would have made the finding of a cab challenging), Rosana arrived and put me into a waiting vehicle. Our goodbye was swift as the rain put paid to any lingering. I handed over the key to the place that had been my home for about a week and in the pouring rain, I thanked her for her enormous hospitality and left the city of Rio behind me to take the highway to the Galeao airport.

            Traffic was awful since it was rush hour, but in a little more than an hour, I was safely deposited at the airport and went in search of my flight. There is little of interest to tell about another routine flight. Dinner was served, I watched a truly fabulous film called The Changeling featuring Angelina Jolie and began another—but then I fell asleep for a good four hours and by the time we were hovering over US soil, it was time for breakfast and disembarkation.

 Concluding Remarks about Rio:

            Rio de Janeiro was every bit as pretty as I had been led to expect. It was predictable—a BRIC nation, like India, poised for progress—but it was also full of surprises. I felt that I did get to know it intimately if briefly and my living like the local Cariocas had a lot to do with it. In commuting like they do, in buses and on the Metro, in frequenting the locales that they do (the beaches, the busy commercial streets, the historic coffee shops and bakeries), I had experienced their daily routine. In poking into their churches, museums, restaurants and gardens, I received a very good idea of how they lived. I had tasted traditional Brazilian food and cocktails, lived in a typical Rio apartment building with local residents (instead of in an antiseptic hotel), I had rustled up simple meals in my own little space (which made me feel quite like a resident). I had spent time with local friends who enlightened me constantly on their lifestyle, customs and ways of life. In using every second as productively as possible, I notched up dozens of miles on my pedometer—yes, I walked an average of 6 and a half miles every day with my record on a single day being 7 and a half miles! Yes, in the final analysis, I came away from Rio as much more than a visitor.

            For a little while at least I did feel truly like a Carioca. And for that opportunity I am truly grateful.

            Many thanks for following me on this journey as an armchair traveler. It is because you have always been a faithful follower of my blog posts that I feel motivated to continue to write them. For the moment, I say Ciao…

            May the road always rise up to meet you…                           

    

Brazilian Churrascaria, Discovering Centro and Meeting an Old Friend

 

Saturday, June 13, 2-15
Brazilian Churrascaria at Conference Banquet, Discovering Centro and Ipanema Again

            Saturday morning saw me consume a heavy breakfast of fruit, croissants stuffed with blue cheese and ham, coffee and passionfruit yogurt. I showered, dressed and off I went back to the Windsor Florida Hotel to attend the penultimate session of the day—a panel featuring economic development in Kerala, India, and another by Prof. Ashok Malhotra of SUNY, Oneonta, that interested me immensely. They were just as absorbing as I expected them to be and I felt fully gratified about having listened to four inspiring speakers.

Discovering Centro and Praca XV November:

We were then all free until 2.00 pm when the concluding Conference Banquet was to be held. This allowed me to take the Metro from Catete station to Centro as I used my guide book to take a Walking Tour of the area known as Praca XV November. The area is filled with Portuguese churches each representing the glories of what is known as Brazilian Baroque. I popped in and out of several, then found myself in the maze of little by-lanes behind the main avenues where Rio has not changed in centuries. The architecture is highly reminiscent of what I see in Mapuca and Panjim in Goa--it is the colonial Portuguese aesthetic at its best. And although faded with age and lack of maintenance, it is still hugely appealing to me.

             Going through the Arcos de Telles (the only existing arch from Portuguese colonial days) and the Trevasso Commercial, I found myself in the huge square known as Praca XV November.

In the center of the square is the imposing equestrian sculpture of Dom Pedro II who made Rio his royal temporary capital and whose shadow (literally!) looms largely over the city.

And to my delight, being a Saturday morning, there was a flea market in progress. Now I can never resist the sale of antiques—so there I was, browsing through make shift stalls selling everything from old china, glass, porcelain, medals, coins, maps, fabrics and linens, cameras, light fixtures, etc. It was great fun to trawl through the stalls but nothing caught my fancy and before long, I was skirting the Paco Imperial—the main administrative building dating from colonial times and looking for a bus that would take me back to the hotel. 

Off to the Brazilian Churrascaria at Porcao Ipanema:

            It was in about half an hour that I reached the hotel in time to join the rest of the conference party headed for the Metro station to get once again to the ritzy streets of Ipanema for the concluding Conference Banquet. We were a jolly lot in the train for, by this stage, we had gotten to know each other well and felt like old friends.

            Teresa, our liaison person, led the group to the restaurant called the Porcao Ipanema—supposedly one of the best restaurants in the city, for Brazilian barbecue that is known as Churrascaria (this type of meal is also well-known in Argentina and there are a few restaurants of this kind in New York City as well). We were led to a private room in which all 30 of us were accommodated and there, while drinks orders were taken, the thankyou speeches and gifts were delivered. It was all great fun and amidst much cheering and heckling, the deeds were done and the eating began.

            First, we were directed to the Salad Bar to take our pick of the offerings—and there were countless delicious salads featuring a mixture of fruit and veg. On a side table, my heart leapt at the sight of Feijoada, Brazil’s national dish, which is a thick pork stew made with black beans and sausages. It is eaten with a variety of fixins’ that include steamed rice, wilted greens, polenta and a variety of sauces and toppings with which I was unfamiliar. I was told not to leave Brazil without trying this dish—so I was delighted at the opportunity to taste it…but sadly, I was not much impressed. The Goan Sorpotel which was also a derivative of Portuguese colonial rule over India is, if I may say so, far more scrumptious! Still, I wasn’t going to spend a long while making comparisons because meat awaited table-side.

And by golly, it just kept coming. Every style of barbecued meat from beef (sirloin, chuck, T-bone, etc) were brought to the table together with pork, lamb, sausages and chicken. Before I knew it, my plate was full and I felt utterly overwhelmed as I stared at a plate that represented the worst side of gluttony. That was when I started refusing any more table-side offerings and focused on finishing what was placed before me. This place is a carnivore’s paradise and were I as crazy about grilled meat as some people are, I might have done justice to it. As it was, I have to say that I missed the American barbecue or steak sauces that we find on our tables, the mustard that one finds in France and the horseradish sauce that is found internationally. The meat was wonderfully succulent but a tad too ‘natural’ for me. We had a array of desserts to choose from and I went for the Chocolate Cake—but I have to admit that I was bursting by the time dessert arrived and would gladly have passed on it.

Coffee and Conversation with an Old Friend:

            Since I found myself at Ipanema once again, I thought it wise to call a local Brazilian gal that I had known a long time ago in New York. Ana-Teresa was once married to a good friend of mine called Vivian, but with the end of their marriage, our brief friendship also ended. Since she had returned to her native home in Rio, I felt it wise to make contact with her and was delighted to discover, from our phone call, that she was absolutely thrilled to hear from me after almost 15 years.

            Ana-Teresa told me to wait for her at the restaurant as she would come in search of me. Right enough, an hour later, we had an affectionate reunion and, at my request, we went on a long walk through the chic streets of Ipanema and caught up on the intervening years. I badly needed to walk off my big meal and she was willing to oblige. About a half hour later, we found a Starbucks and popped in there for a seated chinwag. While she had a coffee (I passed as I had simply no room), we continued our long conversation. It was as if all that time and distance had never happened.

But about an hour later, with darkness having fallen swiftly over the city, we parted—she gave me a ride to the metro station in her car and carried on her way—suggesting that I pick up Hawaianas (the Carioca word for ‘flip flops’) from a shop called Hawaiana before I left Rio as they are famous for their beach footwear and make a very light and sturdy souvenir. I thought it was a great idea and resolved to return to Ipanema on Monday.

            Back on the underground train, I was at my apartment by 8.00 pm when I sat down to a do a bit of reading for a book assignment on which I am working. I spend the next couple of hours deep in my reading and at 10.00 pm, got ready for bed.

            It had been a very productive day and I was proud of how much I was packing into each of my days in Rio.

            Until tomorrow, Ciao!             

This Girl's on Ipanema...and Leme...and Sugar Loaf Mountain

 

Friday, June 12, 2015
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.

 Climbing Sweet Sugar Loaf Mountain (Pao de Acucar):

            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.

 The Girl’s Going to Ipanema:

            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!