Ilha Grande to The Iguazu Falls...

Back at Rio Bus Station, it was time to trundle our way down the length of Brazil,to the Iguazu Falls.


After a slight struggle at the ticket office, involving a long time spent by the ticket seller with his head in his hands, and resulting in us having to spend another night in Rio, we were eventually booked on a delightful 22 hour bus the following day


Luckily, thanks to two extremely generous Americans we met on Ilha Grande, we were saved a night on the bus station floor, and instead went to stay in luxury at their Grandpa's house in Petropolis, a suburb high up in the rainforest clad hills surrounding Rio. We spent the evening swimming in the freshwater pool, despite the rain and cloud that seemed to never leave the town, and eating Guacamole and pizza in preparation for our epic bus journey the following day.


After a particularly mad taxi ride the next morning, and a much too early bus back to Rio, we eventually boarded our home for the next day or so and, as is the case for me on any kind of moving vehicle, promptly fell asleep.



A day later, and with very stiff necks and in need of a large cup of tea (unforunately very difficult to find in Brazil...) we arrived in Foz do Iguazu. Having dropped our bags at the hostel, we headed straight to the Brazilian side of the waterfall. 


Ushered on to the waiting bus, we were led down winding concrete walkways through the banks of the river, catching glimpses and taking photos of the amazing fall along the way. Dodging the rather overfriendly Quatis, who we were assured had rabies, and snapping an armadillo we spied digging in the bushes, we eventually reached the grand finale, a view of the Garganta do Diablo, or the Devil's throat. 


The sheer volume of water that crashed down in to the river below was mindblowing. As was the amount of tourists that were all eager to get their perfect photo in front of the famous plume of white water. But impressive it was nonetheless, and we left excited to witness the amazing falls from a more Argentian angle.

So, the next day, we hopped on another bus (my travelling narcolepsy just holding out long enough to see the border between the three countries), said goodbye to Brazil and hopped over to Argentina. Second ever passport stamp later, we headed in to the National park for our next glimpse of Iguazu.


The Argentinian side of the falls was definitely more impressive. Far from being carried with the crowd along the concrete paths of the Brazillian side, we were free to wander down tree lined walkways, spotting beautiful bright blue and yellow birds, more armadillos and a lot more of the cheeky, packed-lunch pinching Quatis along the way. We caught a boat to the island at the centre of the river, gave our thighs a good work out as we climbed the hundreds of steps through the jungle to get a good look at the dozens of smaller, but equaly beautiful turrets of crashing white water, the strategically placed openings in the foliage providing perfect photo opportunities and whetting our appetite for the main event, the view from the top of the Garganta de Diablo.


Walking along bridges suspended above the river, spotting turtles and desperately searching for a glimpse of a Cayman or a monkey (unsuprisingly these never appeared...) we eventually wound our way to the mindblowing cascade of water that makes the Iguasu Falls one of the undisputed natural Wonders of the World. The view was spectacular. Despite the water levels apparently being low (the reason we couldn't do the boat trip that we were so desperate to do!) the water crashed off the rocks, disappearing into a cloud of white as it hit the bottom with the sound of pure thunder. 


The falls were definitely the highlight of my trip so far, the scenery on the Argentinian side was beautiful and it really felt as though we were witnessing something, although on a well trodden path, that was truly impressive.These were definitely waterfalls that, despite what TLC told me in the 90s, I was most certainly glad that I had chased halfway around the world...

Rio de Janiero to Ilha Grande...

After what would, on reflection, seem like a stressful few days in Rio (mostly due to my dwindling supply of knickers..), we headed off to the idyllic, tropical paridise that is Ilha Grande.


The island, which we reached by a local ferry jam packed with islanders, was an absolute haven of peace. The lack of any traffic, save a few bikes and plenty of chilled out tourists on their way to the beach, was a bit of a shock after the utter pandimodium of Rio, where crossing the road took a good 5 minutes and at least 7 near death experiences, but a good one nonetheless.

Sitting on the ferry, squeezed between giant bags of rice, vegetable and meat that constituted the isanders weekly shopping delivery from the mainland (Tesco Direct, eat your heart out..), we watched intently as the lush, green hillsides of the island slowly came in to view. The Island was utterly beautiful, with its  sandy yellow beaches, vibrant rainforest and bright blue skies, meaning that I could put the 'supervivid' setting on my new camera to very good use!

Once on dry land, and having taken lots of gorgeous pictures, we struggled on to our hostel with our rucksacks gazing at the beautiful sunset that, teamed with the long sandy beach, made the place look like it had fallen straight from a book of postcards. Heaving our massive rucksacks up the winding cobbled streets (if only something slightly heavier than my underwear had been stollen in Rio..) the Bambu Inn for which we were headed turned out to be slighty further uphill than we were anticipating.

When we arrived, sweating in a very attractive manner and Kitty already bitten to shreds by the local mosquitos, the hostel was a very welcome surprise.

Situated in lush tropical gardens, the dorm was almost entirely glass, with beautiful views of the surrounding garden, and, after establishing that the trickling outdoor shower was in fact only a water feature, a pretty good bathroom too. But, enough of that, the beach was calling us.

After meeting our lovely dorm-mates, we headed to a bar on a small beach, just off the main tourist trail. Sitting under a huge tree strung with fairy lights and dripping with lanterns, we drank Passion Fruit Caiparinhas, ate coconut and lime chicken kebabs fresh of the Barbeque and listened to the waves lapping against the beach. I am completely aware that this all sounds just a liiiitle bit cheesy, but it was actually everything that films have led me to believe Island life to be.

Until it started to rain. And rain it did. Our kebabs turned to chicken soup and I was left looking extremely bedraggled, not ideal and certainly not like the movies. We did, however, make a top celebrity spot through the tropical downpour. None other than George Lamb was sitting on the table next to us, and later came and bought us all Caiparinhas! Lifestyle of the rich and the famous and all that..

After our perfect, if slightly damp, evening, we prayed that the rain as over and booked a boat tour of the island´s beaches for the next day. After hiring snorkles, and drinking a lot of coke to combat the effects of last nights Caipifrutas, we jumped (crawled..) on to our little boat and headed off to find some fish.

When we eventually did find some fish however, I discovered that I may actually have quite a serious fear of them. It may have been something to do with the Boat owner thowing bread at me, which led to a feeding frenzy of hundreds of quite large, snappy fishies swimming around my head, but it was not the best to to make that quite strange realisation. It was also not the best time for Kitty to realise that she cannot breathe without the use of her nose, so after a rather epic snorkelling fail we panicked our way back to the boat, the skipper still throwing fish food at my face, and I finally escaped the fish. Hopefully this was just a passing phobia, I don't think being scared of fish is very practical when travelling!


After visiting a few absolutely beautiful beaches, and swimming in crystal clear, turquoise water (luckily our friend had run out of bread, so the fish were pretty cool too..) we headed back to the harbour. I promptly fell asleep on the front deck, as seems to be the case on any moving vehicle, and severly sunburnt my nose.

After a good shower, and some serious moisturisation on my now glowing konk, we trundled down the hill for some steak, rice and beans and an evening of drinking beer (which Kitty seems to have developed quite the taste for..) and eating acai berry sorbet with granola and banana in a local bar.

The next day, after an amazing breakfast of juicy fresh mango, seed cake and pesto toast in the jungle garden, and an absolutely perfect couple of days, we were back on the boat bound for the Iguazu Falls..

C xxx

Wickham Market to Rio de Janiero...

Bom dia from Rio! After 17 hours of flying, a sprint around JFK airport and a particularly frantic taxi ride around the humid streets of the city to get to the hostel, we have finally started our travels.

And one week in, after an eventful few days in Rio, followed by an incredibly relaxing but computer-free  stay on Ilha Grande, I have finally manged to get my fingers to a keyboard to update you all! Sorry it has been so long in the making, but after having my card details scammed within 2 hours of arriving, drinking caparinhas on the beach and having every single pair of underwear I own stolen, I hope you will understand why!

But anyway, after spending the best part of a day 38,000 feet in the air, we are in Rio. And having a great time! So far we have drank Caiprihnas and eaten epanadas on Copacabana beach, been to the Hippy market (which turned out to be less hippy, and more hideous statues of plastic birds perched on giant pieces of crystal..) sunbathed on Praia do Diablo, watching the surfers ride the waves as the sun set and marvelled at the commanding figure of Christ the Redeemer that watches over the city day and night.

After the slight inconvenience of having my card details taken within our first few hours of being here, and after a well needed siesta, we began to explore the city, trying to find at least some of our bearings. After an evening stroll on the beautiful Copacobana beach, and buying our first obligatory braided bracelet, we can now we can fully get into the swing of this travelling malarky.

On our second day of being in Rio, after browsing the aforementioed plastic parrots and charming pairs of leather dungarees (in this weather??) at the hippy market, we went to a lively, authentic Brazillian buffet restaurant. After piling our plates at the salad bar (which was like a slightly more upmarket version of the Pizza Hut one), the waiters came to our table with giant skewers of every meat you can imagine, just waiting to be carved on to your plate. There was chicken, amazing steak, ribs, and something that rather resembled mouse, but that we were assured was chicken heart (slightly better than mouse but still not quite my cup of tea!)

After stuffing ourselves silly, it was off to the Favella party. Piled in to a minibus, we hit the winding road up to the favella. The party was absolutely nothing as I imagined. The only thing that I could compare it to would be a school disco, just on a much bigger scale, with a lot more bottom wiggling and music loud enough to leave your ears ringing for 3 days straight. But it was actually brilliant, we drank caparinhas and watched the crowds dance some amazing Samba.

The favella party actually summed up what I thought about Rio. The city is nothing like my year 9 geography lessons had led me to expect. While, of course, you could tell that poverty is a big problem in the city, the centre actually reminded me a lot of European cities, and it was a lot cleaner than many of the cities in the UK (cough, Ipswich, cough...) And the people were lovely, they went out of their way to point us in the right direction on the many occasions that we were looking lost, and were quick to give you a helping hand when we got stuck in the revolving ticket gate on the bus, or got in some other pickle. It was nowhere near the big, scary city that I first imagined, and I absolutely loved the way that the streets bustled with people and stalls selling every kind of snack you could imagine; fresh corn on the cob, acai berry sorbet with granola, dulce de leche popcorn. And if you know how much I love to eat, this was perfect!

After samba-ing our way thorough the favella, we decided that it was time to actually see some of the famous sights of Rio. However, the cloud rather ruined our fun. On our second attempt at seeing the famous statue of Christ the Redeemer, we decided that we had to make the trip to his feet, despite the somewhat overcast weather. We optomistically caught the train up the steep, jungle clad mountainside, entertained by a very cheery samba band along the way.

However, we weren´t quite so full of the party spirit when we reached the top and discovered that we could barely see 3 feet in front of us, let alone his face, and definitely not any views of the city. So, we waited, and were eventualy rewarded for our patience with around a 2 minute glimpse of the man himself, during which time everyne scrambled to get a photo, picking their way through the crowd to get their shot. Unfortuntely the city never appeared from the clouds, and we left pleased that we had been but dissapointed that the majority of what we had seen was cloud.

After hot-footing it over to the Bohemian area of Santa Theresa for lunch, we decided to make another attempt at getting a good view of the city. As the sun was coming down, we ascended the cable car to the top of Sugarloaf mountain. Luckily we got there just as the sun was still peeking over the mountains, and the views of the city at sunset were stunning.
And that, after  few more Caparinhas, was our last day in the sweaty, bustling city of Rio. Despite it being a million miles away from what I expected. I loved the city and only wished that, firstly, we had been able to stay longer and, secondly, that I was leaving with as many pairs of knickers as I had arrived with.

But now it is on to Ilha Grande, an island with no roads or cars, what a contrast that will be!

C xxx