I said goodbye to Uruguay yesterday. It was bittersweet. I
spent exactly 13 days there and fell in love a little. The country is vibrant
and green, the people welcoming and radient – inside and out, the tea
strong, the cities quaint and beaches breathtaking. This definitely won’t be
the last time I visit.
My last day there wasn’t very noteworthy… except for the
joyous fact that I got my Brazil visa!!! When the girl with the pretty smile
from a week prior handed me my passport with the shiny new addition taped on, I
almost cried from happiness! Such a relief!!
I desperately needed to do laundry – my towels were
beginning to smell..... off. For around $7, these sweet little ladies washed,
dried, and folded everything perfectly. I can’t even do my own for that cost in San Francisco! And I definitely don't fold that well. Hmmm, what else did I do? Ate
gnocchi from a Italian place across the street. It was ok, a little gummy and
the sauce bland, but it was super cheap. I laid myself out by the pool in the
sunshine and started reading the book I brought (finally!) – “Wild” by Cheryl
Strayed. It’s a sort of “Eat, Pray, Love” kind of book. For those who
know nothing about either, they're both about a woman solo traveling and
experiencing self-realization. After 2 chapters, I was hooked. Last year I read
Cheryl’s other writing, “Tiny Beautiful Things”, a work in the style of “Dear
Abby” except more raw and relatable and phenomenal.
Played with Milton. She is seriously THE cutest kitten I’ve
ever seen. I’m going to miss her little black face and random antics. It’s so
adorable…. She’s starting to learn to purr. It’s uneven and loud, vibrating her
entire teeny tiny cage. I love her.
Had a mini Portuguese lesson from a Brazilian girl and an
Italian guy at the hostel. This language is impossible!!! The accent and
syllable emphasis are what’s tripping me up the most. We all watched the sunset
from the beach and then made burgers together afterward. The Italian guy is a
really fantastic cook.
For the millionth time, I organized and re-packed my
multiple backpacks (3, to be exact), and swore that next time I won’t bring so
much stuff. There’s some things I packed where I’m like, wow, I’m brilliant to
have thought of that. And then other stuff that’s just stupid. I made a list for next time.
Heather’s list of things-I’m-so-glad-I-brought:
- Yoga towel instead of beach towel. First time
I’ve ever done that and it is so much better. It’s lighter, more compact,
and dries super fast.
- Pepto/immodium. Yesssssss this has saved my
life.
- My own sunscreen. It’s exorbitantly expensive here,
and not good quality either. It costs around $20!!!
- Deet. Again, hard to find and expensive. There
are more mosquitoes then I expected.
- Pillow. This has also saved my life on the many
plane/bus transits. Plus, the hostel’s are usually lumpy pieces of crap.
List of things-I-should-have-left-home:
- Yoga mat. Really?? Who was I kidding…. A South
American summer is hotter than Bikram’s torture chamber.
- Snorkel gear.
- Flashlight. I just use my cell phone when
navigating the room at night.
- Half the clothes I brought.
- That big bag of instant oatmeal. Didn’t realize
that ALL the hostels serve breakfast. This wasn’t the case other places I’ve
traveled.
- Umbrella.
I stressed out a little trying to book a hostel in Rio for
the next few nights. Ipanema Beach seemed to be completely sold out – I
couldn’t find anything on hostelworld.com, not even one listing. After that I
started trying to couchsurf, but the one person who responded didn’t get out of
work in time to let me in to the house. So then I signed up for airbnb, but that was a total
fiasco as they wanted to text me a confirmation code and my phone doesn’t get
reception. Finally, in desperation, I messaged my fabulous friend, Fabio. He’s a delightfully funny and friendly guy I met in Montevideo last week who used to live
in Rio. He immediately wrote me back, and within 10 min, he found me 2 amazing
hostels for my 3 days there. He even called one of them!! Then wrote me
detailed instructions on how to take the bus. What an angel, that Fabio. If he ever comes
to SF, he will be treated like a king
This morning I flew to Rio and took a 45 min taxi ride (forget the bus!) to Meiai Hostel in Botafogo. Botafogo is a cute middle class area bordered by a
lake on one side and Pao de Acucar or “Sugarloaf Mountain” on the other. That Palestinian guy from Montevideo – Jonathan – may have annoyed me slightly, but
he did say one thing that stuck: “The first day in a new city, I get lost.” So
within reason, I decided to do just that. But I had a map too, just in case
(stop freaking out, dad).
It felt good to not have an agenda or place to be. I wandered around for hours,
taking it all in. Randomly and unexpectedly ended up at the base of Sugarloaf,
which also boasted a lively little beach filled with ridiculously bronzed and
barely clothed locals frolicking in the water. I bought a coconut for $2 and
sat in the shade, sucking down the ice-cold juice. It was gone way too fast.
There was a hot dog stand with about 10 pot-bellied men standing
in line, speedos clinging on for dear life. Haha, pretty sure I laughed out loud! There were also food stands with
churros, corn on the cob, cotton candy, and ice cream. In the bay itself, tons
of SUP’s were zig-zagging around and a “party boat” that resembled an old
pirate ship boomed funk music. It was a gorgeous day but blisteringly hot. So I
took my book to a “Thai” place in town for lunch. The yogurt lassi drink was
delicious, with little pieces of cardamom floating around in it. But the pad
thai was… interesting. The noodles were literally swimming in a ketchupy, syrupy sauce that of course was waaaay too sweet.
Later that night I decided to go see some Samba. In my
Lonely Planet book I had circled a couple places to check out in Lapa. It was
all planned out. But then, 2 Brazilians in my hostel – Gerson and Hellen – invited
me to join them for a completely different samba place. If there is one thing
I’ve learned, always always always go with the locals!!! Forget whatever “plan”
you have. Their recommendations trump a guide-book any day. We hopped onto the
metro, disembarked at the last stop, boarded another metro, got off at the last
stop again, and then took a 10-min taxi ride. So I’m not sure exactly where we
were, but it was pretty far out there. When I had asked Gerson to point it out
on my tourist map, he scanned it for a couple minutes and said it “wasn’t on
there.”
It was called “Salgueiro Samba School”. Gerson explained that
in Rio there are tons of Samba schools, and every year they compete to see who
will play for Carnival. This samba school was last year’s champions! So there
was no doubt they would put on a good show. Before going in, we hit up some
street food. They ordered extra long hot dogs with a million toppings on
them: corn, peas, olives, raisins, onions, tomatoes, peppers, mayo, ketchup,
falafel powder, potato chips, and finally, one single tiny egg on top. I asked
if it was a quail egg, but they just looked at me in confusion. Had no clue how
to translate that one. I had fried cheese on a stick. Whoever came up with that
is pure genius!!!!
It cost R50 to get in, which is around $20. Everyone was
dressed in red and white. A funk band was on stage getting the party started in
style, and some dancers were dazzling the crowd with their quick movements. From
what I cold see, I was one of 3 gringos in the entire place. The other 2 were a
brother-sister duo from Pennsylvania who were staying at the hostel. The
brother looked absolutely miserable – don’t think this was his idea of “fun”. Then……… the samba
started up. They were above us, in the balcony. Between 30-40 people, all
beating their complex rhythms with stunning accuracy. I’ve never seen anything
even remotely like it! Felt like an out-of-the-body experience, like I was
being transported to another land on a pulsing, heaving carpet of sound and
dance. The samba dance itself is lightening fast. If someone dropped a bug in
your pantalones, you would be doing the samba. A Brazilian actress in a shiny silvery sequined dress showed up and got the crowd excited. We danced until our legs were
jelly. We danced until 5 am. Hellen took at least 50 selfies. Bed never felt so
good.
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