On the Road to Find Out

After Estudiantes made their comeback from 1-0 down to seal the Copa Libertadores with a 2-1 victory (mostly thanks to Veron, who was awesome on the night), the whole colour of Belo Horizonte changed. All shouts of ‘zeiro’ had been replaced with ‘galo (Atletico´s nickname)‘, blue scarves and flags had been replaced with black and white and I was no longer able to see the southern cross anymore (Cruzeiro means southern cross in Portuguese, and this emblem was everywhere before the game). Plus, the streets were filled with Brazilians wearing bald wigs, goatee beards and Estudiantes shirts, all in the name of Veron; Estudiantes´ hero from the previous night. Blue tombstones lined the streets.

I had been to the Mineiraõ before the Cruzeiro game to get a feel of the atmosphere and was now returning for the Atletico-Saõ Paulo game. The atmosphere was almost identical. If anything, the Atletico fans were more ebullient! It was if they had won the Libertadores.

Atletico´s nickname ´galo´means rooster, and boy do they love that rooster. He came running out before the game, smacked his rooster flag in the middle of the pitch and started to boogie. Understandably, the crowd went nuts! Everything the rooster did was received with fever pitch hollers. He really knows how to get the crowd going.

When the game started, it took Atletico 1 minute to open the scoring. They dominated and should have won by much more than the 2-o it ended up, but the fans wouldn´t have cared what the score was, this was their chance to party. Their neighbours had been cruelly denied a trophy and they were out to enjoy it.

Instead of watching Cruzeiro lose the Libertadores final and 300 Reais from my own pocket, I got to go to a better party with what for me, are the real football fans in Belo Horizonte, and only spend 5 Reais. I think I got the better deal, and the rooster most definitely seals it!

One week ago I had arrived in Piriapolis on the Southern coast of Uruguay. It had been raining all day, the sun had set and mist had begun to creep in. The only hostel in town was closed and so I walked around asking people for a cheap place to stay. Eventually I found a room above a little restaurant, with an unbelievably friendly waiter, Santo, who recommended highly the milanesa; one huge piece of meat in 2 bread rolls with salad and chips. The room was small with one wall completely dedicated to damp. The puddles that lined the staircase were some indication that this place was not being maintained to the highest standards. But it was cheap. I put down my bags, turned on the oil heater (maybe that will get rid of the damp) and ordered the milanesa downstairs. Santo brought over 2 plates, one featuring a huge piece of meat covered with chips, the other smaller plate with 3 of the tiniest bread rolls I had ever seen. I looked at Santo with confusion, his previous enthusiasm regarding this dish had well and truly disappeared. I picked up the newspaper and went straight to the sports. It was the third time Nacional were going to play Defensor in the space of the week. The first 2 had been draws and they had to keep going until someone wins. Then once one of the teams win they do exactly the same at the other teams ground. If that other team wins, they then do this whole thing again at a neutral ground until there is a champion. I considered going to Montevideo to watch one of the games, but figured that I could be there for weeks just waiting for the Champion to be announced (in the end it took 2 weeks for Nacional to win 2 out of 5 games and seal the title). The other game happening that night was Estudiantes vs Cruzeiro in the first leg of the Copa Libertadores final. I had considered going to one of the games but decided that La Plata in Argentina and Belo Horizonte in Brazil were just too far away. I thought about Piriapolis, about the damp room, the shoddy milanesa, the mist that meant it was impossible to see the sea even when your toes were in the water, and then I thought about North Brazil.

The next day I packed my bags, it was time to watch some football. I still had 6 days which meant I got to go see my friend Fernando in Treinta y Tres (my arrival was timed with that of the bakeries which meant I left with a bag full of dulce de leche-filled delights, always a bonus) and also stop in Curitiba for a couple of days (this place is know as the green capital of Brazil, so I wanted to see what the fuss was about). I had sent out a few messages regarding the Libertadores final and had found 2 people willing to buy me a ticket and give it to me when I got there. I chose the most enthusiastic of the 2 and felt quietly confident it would work out. It was not to be though. All of the tickets had been sold in 3 hours, people had queued for 24 hours just to get one and had still failed. On getting to Belo Horizonte (BH) I asked almost every person I met if they had a spare ticket. They didn´t. The touts were charging around 300 Reais for a 80 Real ticket and I really didn´t want to pay it. Through my whole process of trying to buy a ticket though I had realised one thing, that the real football fans were the supporters of Atletico Mineiro (Cruzeiro´s arch rivals). They were the ones who knew the most about football, they had the team with all the heritage but didn´t have the money to produce good teams as regularly as Cruzeiro, who seem to have one corrupt businessman as their President. So in the end I watched it in a pub surrounded by Atletico Mineiro fans and we cheered for Estudiantes, who eventually won. This was a bit of a shame as the party atmosphere that had been pulsing through BH all day had now dissipated completely, but I was also glad that they didn´t have to make my way through the stadium and back into the city with a load of angry Cruzeiro fans.

The game was last night. Tonight, Atletico play Sao Paulo. The price is 5 Reais, in the same 70,000 seater stadium and I get to watch it with real football fans. I think it was worth making the 2,000km trip just for this.

Okay, so it’s not gonna be possible to forget Iguazu falls in a hurry. Those are some big waterfalls!

The falls!

But there´s one other thing that sticks in my mind. This is the sight of a man flicking a cigarette into Rio Iguazu. He didn’t notice that I had seem him do this. His wife did and I think from the way her eyes widened before shirkily placing themselves back in her husband’s glance, she could see the rage that was coming over my face.

On the main viewpoint of the waterfalls you can look down and see a dozen plastic bottles nestled in amongst the rocks.

For some reason I assumed there would be more awareness of pollution and the environment in Brazil, after all it is their rainforest that is being chopped down for hamburgers.

My thinking was already heading in this direction though, due to the number of bags I was being given at the super market. Checkout girls looked on in amazement if I refused one. “Do you not want a bag?” “No”, “Are you sure?” “Yes”, “So you don’t want a bag then?” “No” And almost every item gets its own bag. Fruit goes in one bag, drinks in another, cold drinks in another still. Bar of soap? Gets its own bag.

On entering Parque Nacional da Iguazu, there are signs everywhere reading ‘UNESCO World Heritage Site’, ‘Vote for the New Seven Wonders of the World’, ‘Protect the Environment’. How can someone just throw a cigarette into the river? I just find the whole thing baffling.

Maybe I'm allergic

Next: I am on my way to Buenos Aires in a Super Cama. I have fully reclinable capabilities. And I have just been served warm beef and potatoes. This really is luxury.

Hold on, I almost forgot to talk about the beaches. They are surely the best thing about Florianopolis. There’s 42 of them in total. 22 of which have waves good enough for surfing. Some of these beaches are on the main roads, some are hidden away behind mountains begging to be trekked to. Everyone I went to was a complete sauna, with hot stones and everything.

The best beach by far is Praia da Lagoinha do Leste. Take a bus to Armação. 10 minutes walk south from Praia da Armação is Praia do Matadeiro. A further 2 hours walk from Matadeiro is Lagoinha do Leste. The walk has to be one of the best I have ever done. There are so many false corners, putting your heart in your mouth as you know there is going to be a beautiful beach coming soon. After 3 false corners, the beach opens up. A tasty mile of open beach with clear blue waters, bunched in by green mountains on all sides. I never wanted to get in the ocean so much.

Lagoinha do Leste

Praia Brava is another of my favourite beaches. Only problem was the amount of handbags around me. I think it must have been clearing out day at the old people’s home.

Praia Brava

I thought this photo looked a little bit like the cover of On The Beach. Now I´m not so sure.

Look, Neil Young!

Who´s this then?

Okay, so what other beaches were there.

Praia do Pantano do Sul & Praia da Solidão – amazingly quiet beaches, perfect for strumming a few chords in the afternoon or having a nap

Praia do Saquinho – about 2 rocks on this beach. One of which had some young couple perched a top. I think this is the place for an evening snack

Praia de Naufragados – I never reached Naufragados. I tried to trek but gave up when the heat got to me and I had ran out of water. One day I will find you Naufragados!!!

Praia da Joaquina & Praia Mole – perfect surfing beaches. Get your wetsuit on though cause it´s a bit chilly out there. Kinda like skegness, but without the constant stream of baby buggies

Praia da Barra da Lagoa – crowded beach, full of surfers but no waves. On a good day probably worth getting the board out. Otherwise just sit and watch the girls go by

Praia do Pantano do Sul

It is my 10th day in Floripa, and my final day. It´s now time to do my best Cain impersonation and get the hell outta here. These are the places I stayed:

• Pousada do Marujo, Barra da Lagoa – 3 days of nothing. Essential.
• Albergue do Pirata, Costa de Dentro – chilled out surfer dudes. Churrasco with Bavarians. Some of the most peaceful beaches on the island
• Geziel e Paula, Trinidade (Couchsurfing.com) – time to explore. Made it my mission to trek to the most far out beaches in the island and succeeded. I also got expertly fed by Paula and by Geziel´s mum, who was having a cataracts operation but used her one eye perfectly to guide food in my direction
• Murilo and the house of the forest (Globalfreeloaders.com) – it´s a house. It´s in the forest. There is a never ending supply of cats and a tiny bassett hound. This place was almost perfect. The only thing preventing perfection: I never did get to try out that triangle.

Getting drunk with the Bavarians. Spot the grumpy dutch girl

Okay, so one recommendation. Don’t try to find the house of the forest at night.

Maybe I was let down by the directions. It was 3 houses and a path to nothingness before I got an affirmative “yes, this is the house of Murilo.” In truth, once I reached it I knew it was going to be the one. The lights emanating an orange glow off the adobe brick and wooden frames within, dreamcatchers strewn across the porch with an unruly red leather armchair taking centre piece.

Tonight I need to relax, one of the housemates is ill. Things should be different tomorrow though. It’s jam night. I´ve already got my eye on the triangle.

The House of the Forest, it´s in there somewhere!

The migraine has subsided! For my last 2 weeks in England and week in Rio and Sao Paulo I have had one brutalising headache. The constant need to do things, the constant party and the struggle for sleep had all played their part in this, but finally it has gone.

The main contributing factor to the end of this migraine: doing absolutely nothing. For the past three days I have done nothing other than sleep, cook, eat and walk. My only spot of surfing leaves me looking like the japanese flag as my sun tan lotion application skills truly fail to hit the spot.

I could live here

Alina, Me, Ney, Carmen and Lola!

Flats soon to be demolished and replaced by fancy apartments

Next stop: Florianopolis – island life!

The Rio trip is over for now. I need some peace and quiet! Lapa truly is the party capital.

So what happened in the final few days:

Biking back to Copacabana

• Went on bike ride with Glenda round Ipanema, Copacabana, Lagoa and ended up at Botanical Gardens (definately worth a visit when in Rio – great orchirds, humongously ugly plants of all varieties that somehow manage to seem quite pleasant, tiny monkeys and plenty of unusual fruits. Go there when it’s sunny for best results). On the same road as the botanical gardens is a little ice cream shop called Mil Frutas. They let me try about 12 different varieties before I eventually decided on Orange and Ginger. Simply the best ice cream I have ever ate in my life. The ice cream is quite expensive but it is definately worthwhile. There was apparently a very famous Brazilian behind us in the queue. I later found out it was Chico Buarque, a famous singer whose songs have been covered by pretty much every popular brazilian musician to have lived. I had been listening to an album by Ney Matogrosso which I later found out was completely Chico songs, so there be the evidence.
• Went to Afrobeat night at Clandestino (below some hostel in Copacabana) with Kamille. Unbelievable songs, rarely do I get to hear Fela Kuti played so loud. It also made me want to discover a lot more afrobeat artists, as there were some seriously funky grooves being played here. Unfortunately, the people I was with wanted to leave so we went in search of another party. I can’t remember the name of this place, but it wasn’t too hot so we headed off to Piste 3. Here they played Nirvana, AC/DC, Thin Lizzy, Blur, it was pretty much like heaven. Unfortunately, this party was not enough either though so we headed off to Casa da Matriz. This is someone’s house that they have converted into a nightclub. Very strange dancing in someone’s living room. I arrived back at the flat at 7.30am. I think I mentioned this in an earlier post.
• Went to gallery opening with Fabiola (collection of stickers plastered over 2 rooms, creating a technicolour vision of Rio – very nice indeed. I think the exhibit was called ‘A Gentile Carioca’ which means a friendly resident of Rio). Afterwards, we headed up the hill to a house party. I can’t remember the name of the area, Morra de something, but was a beautiful little place on top of a hill. All the streets were about 4 foot wide, and every house seemed to be full of people spurting out raucous laughter like no man’s business. The party was in an artist’s studio. Each room had a different discipline. One room had huge murals and paint splattered from floor to ceiling. Probably the primal scream room. There was a room for more considered paintings and some nice acrylics were on show here, but my favourite was the music room, where one of the housemates had taken apart a huge array of amps and electronic devices, mixed up all the pieces and then started to recreate them. The ability to make strange noises will never lose its appeal.
• Fresh fruit market on Sunday. Are mango, papaya, guava, abrico and manioc. A little disappointed that every amazonian fruit I encountered tasted like papier mache, but hey, the papayas were good.

And I think that’s it for Rio. I will definately return at some point. For now, I am heading to Sao Paulo for an evening before getting the night bus to Isla de Santa Catarina, or Floriannopolis as it’s better known.

¨Vasco, vasco de gama, vasco de gaaaaaaaaaama!¨ There was no way I was ever going to come to Brazil without going to the Maracana, so once I found out there was a local derby coming up soon after I arrived I knew I was going to have to go. Getting a ticket to these games is easy. Find any football club in Rio. Find a queue leading up to a hole in the wall. When it gets to your turn look through the hole into some kind of dimly-lit cave, say the name of the game you´re after and follow it with arquibancada, por favor. This last part is to ask for the grandstand. This is the upper tier of the ground. The bottom tier is for wimps. Once you get to the game, savour the atmosphere outside for a little while, you´ll probably get to see some fireworks. Once you enter through the main entrance you can get to whatever part of the stand you want. Green is for the hardcore fans, neé hooligans. Yellow is for the drums and for the diehards who ain´t too bothered about a punch up. White is for families, couples and neutrals. If you carry on walking around you will then reach yellow and green again, but for the opposing fans. There´s a blue section as well on the far side but I think this is for the rich kids, so we won´t worry about that.

I arrived just as the game was kicking off, heading straight for the yellow section. I was tempted by the green but getting in there didn´t seem possible. So, yellow it was, in the Vasco end, by the way. Vasco are the smaller of the two sides, suffering relegation from the national league, and looking a shade of the team they once were. I love the underdog so couldn´t resist.

After 10 minutes, one of the Vasco wingers makes a run for the by-line only to be tackled by one of the Flamengo defenders, who clears the ball to safety. Instantly, the ref runs over, pulling a red card out of his pocket on the way. The Vasco end erupts, everyone´s hugging each other, the dozens of 12 foot Vasco flags are waving from side to side, and I´m struggling to remain on my step. The game goes on, with Flamengo playing some neat triangles, working out 3 or 4 openings. They seem reluctant to shoot and the keeper only has to make one save, but they´re all over them. With 10 minutes left in the half, the Vasco striker, Carlos Alberto (this is the same Carlos Alberto who scored the first goal in the Porto v Monaco Champions League Final, for anyone interested) is put through on goal, he squares up to the keeper and plays the ball into the bottom left-hand corner. Only one problem, the linesman had already flagged for offside. As Carlos Alberto has already been booked for winning a tackle earlier in the game, it´s no surprise when he has to make a sudden charge to the dressing room. Flamengo are back it in! Their fans are delerious. The score remains 0:0.

Flamengo looked great in the first half, my feet are starting to hurt and the sudden downpour cause me to change my position in the second half. I head to the white section, or calm section. This is full of Vasco fans, Flamengo fans and neutrals. I´m not used to this lack of segregation at a football match.

A similar pattern occurs in the second half, however it´s Flamengo who have the first man sent off here. Again, the ball was won fairly. Shortly after, a Vasco corner played right into the goalkeeper is dropped and a Vasco player is left with 5 yards and no chance of missing. Vasco are soon down to 9 men too, but have a rare break away, 3 Vasco attackers against 1 Flamengo defender, which ends in the second goal of the game. The ref, quiet so far, doesn´t want to be forgotten though and sends off 1 more Flamengo player for good measure. I think that´ll give him the headlines. The match pretty much fizzles out after this. There aren’t too many players on the pitch and they seem a bit tired out. Kleberson (ex-Man Utd and Besiktas) comes on for Flamengo for about 25 minutes but doesn’t really have any end result.

And then it ends. Vasco 9, Flamengo 8. Or is it Vasco 2, Flamengo 0? How are these games scored again? I can’t remember. Vasco won either way though so that’s good.

So it is true, you really can’t make any kind of tackle whatsoever in the Brazilian game. No wonder they don’t produce many great centre backs, they only get to play half of every game. The fans seemed to enjoy the red cards as much as the goals though so maybe this was all part of the entertainment value.

The major talking point for me though was the lack of segregation in the stand. A Vasco fan cheering in the stands completely surrounded by upset Flamengo supporters, and no trouble. I am told, however this really wouldn’t be the case in some of the bigger derbys, such as Corinthians v Palmeiras. On the metro home, both fans even sing together. Perfect!