[023] Sao Paolo to Rio
I'm travelling in South America. Here's what I'm up to, some photos and other bits
I've taken myself to a Brazilian bakery on Ilha Grande to eat some stodgy goods, and there’s a five year old having a paddy on the next table. Something’s upset her so she’s screaming, pushing her food away and shoving daddy. Right now I’d like to behave like this toddler.
I wanna scream and shout and not give a frig. But I'm 30 now and I’m expected to confine to social norms, put on a face. At least I have more pocket money now so I can buy Coxinhas (shredded chicken stuffed inside a fried ball of warm mash) and listen to some melancholy tunes by Mazzy Star on my phone.
I’ve hit the end of the road basically. I’m tired from travelling. I came to this bakery directly from a samba bar. An enthusiastic curly haired Italian guy had rocked up in my dorm full of life, incredibly nice and invited me there. But after a round of the familiar questions (where you from? how long you travelling? where you been?) answered by me two or three times in a raised voiced over blaring music as he struggled to understand in his second language (kudos, not having a pop mate)… I was done.
This is sometimes the challenge with solo travelling. The cycle can go: Need some rest and time alone → get a private room → hit a spiral of loneliness → find a dorm in a social hostel → find the hostel full of fuckwits → need some rest and time alone. Repeat. (Whilst doing some incredible things in between of course).
Now often the hostel is full of lovely people where we’ve had a lovely connection and now we are very good friends (Ushuaia, Coyhaique, Salta, Ilhabela, here in Rio). But the truth is that my own mental state is usually the main driver of my fuckwit/lovely people dichotomy.
I’m missing home a lot = they’re a fuckwit. I’m tired from lugging my possessions around in a backpack = fuckwit. I’m about to move to a new place tomorrow and so majorly cba to make new friends = fuckwit. It’s all good, live in the moment, chill out a bit, meet some nice folks = lovely people.
And so here I am in Rio, buoyed by the fact I have a flight home on the 21st of November, making lots of new friends in the city and having a great time. Tonight I’ll head to the Maracaná to watch a Flamengo game which is a childhood dream.
I've been in Brazil for 6 weeks and it hasn’t all been bad I swear. I have been travelling slowly between Sao Paolo and Rio, mainly as a result of being 10 months into travel and coming off the back of my illness in Peru. I’ve been having slow days, visiting beaches, doing too much thinking and reading a lot (Kitchen Confidential = fun; Sons and Lovers = beautiful and nostalgic; Por quién doblan las campanas = easier in English).
Sao Paolo gets a bad rep, but in terms of doing what a city should do, it does it well. Good architecture, lots of independent, high quality and affordable restaurants, great museums, nice parks (granted, there could be more) and cheap transport.
My favourite museum was the MASP. The permanent collection displayed paintings in the centre of the room ordered chronologically. Information was displayed on the back which I loved it because you could approach a painting and appreciate it without distractions such as who did it or when or why. They had works by famous artists (Van Gogh, Monet, Picasso) but you didn’t get a cluster of people (fuckwits) around it simply because there was a badge on the front which said ‘Van Gogh’.
The architecture was refreshing too after a lot of time in Peruvian cities where many houses are left unfinished to avoid property taxes. I think we underestimate the impact of architecture, but it really can impact our emotional states. A city covered in rough industrial materials can make you feel pretty down. A city with buildings that honor symmetry, are inviting and work with nature can speak to us and lift our spirits.
My highlight in between Sao Paolo and Rio was Ilha Bela. Just a short ferry from the mainland, I loved the cycle path which ran along the seafront and the small beaches where you could stop for a dip. I swam with turtles and the island was filled with amazing little birds. I even saw a Toucan.
I stayed in a hostel called Hostel Da Vila which had an amazing social area and bar, nice decking, beanbags scattered around, that kind of thing. They even had a huge waterslide built into the banking, and some of the best moments were spent playing like kids - waterslide, having a go on the slack line over the pool, practicing our dives. Keepy uppys down on the beach, eating fish and drinking cheap Caiprinhas. Good stuff.
So here we are. Coming to the end. My bus journey to Rio felt quite emotional and somewhat poignant, being the last bus journey after travelling (half) the length of this continent by bus. The fabric of my experiences on this trip will no doubt fall into place over the next few weeks now that this chapter is closing. Until then, ima enjoy this incredible city for a week and see you in the UK in a week or so.
Love
George
