Before boarding the mid-morning bus from Paraty to Rio de Janeiro, the sun finally breaks through the clouds and I race around the waterfront photographing everything from colonial houses to the harbor and the picture postcard view of Santa Rita church. Collapse, perspiring, into the air-conditioned bus. Sometimes you just have to hustle to get good photos!
It’s a 4.5-hour ride to Rio and the first half is spectacular as Christi and I pass between incredible tropical rainforest and beautiful beaches, lagoons, and islands. Our approach to Rio is laced with gritty slums and a sense of despair, however – definitely not the tourist view of the city. The bus station is equally seedy, but a friendly cab driver whizzes us to our accommodation in Copacabana. The beach is a perfect sandy bay with Sugarloaf Mountain dominating the skyline. Sadly, our hostel, The Wave, is dire. Our room is a stifling sauna; even the sheets on the bed are sticky to the touch and we’re forced to unroll our sleeping bags – something we haven’t done since hiking the Inca trail. There is an overhead fan, but this merely moves the humidity around, while the door to the bathroom is hanging off its hinges. The staff are unsympathetic and unhelpful.
Why are we even staying here you might ask? There are several reasons. First, Brazil is much more expensive than the other countries we’ve visited so far. Second, we’re in the run up to Christmas and accommodation is at a premium, and third, poor financial management. During our initial trip planning we calculated we could get by in the Andean countries on less than our daily budget of US$100, thus giving ourselves some breathing space in the more expensive countries such as Brazil. Unfortunately we were seduced by the relatively luxurious lifestyle afforded to us in Ecuador, Bolivia, and Peru and spent to our limits. Now we’re paying the price. We look for alternative accommodation in Copacabana, but find nothing. We do, however, sign up for a tour of Rio tomorrow. And unlike Buenos Aires, we’re doing this city tour at the beginning of our stay – smooth, huh.
Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart, a gut-wrenching, heart-wrenching, laugh-wrenching tale.
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