Back from Brazil
I don't want to bore you with a novel-length account of my trip to South America, but since I didn't keep a running journal during the trip, I wanted to get my thoughts and memories down in a post before they begin to fade like my tanned skin and dissipating hangover. And there's a chance the account will be substantial.
Also, I can't guarantee any level of entertainment for the reader at this time. Perhaps I'll embellish this post later with the proper narrative and humor, but for now this will just be a brain dump.
Consider yourself forewarned.
The flight from Houston to Sao Paulo figured to be uneventful, because most of the journey was to take place at night. However, I was unexpectedly treated to the single most amazing airplane ride of my entire life.
Now, as was expected, nothing of significance occurred as we crossed the Gulf of Mexico, and my prediction of an uneventful flight seemed secure. But, as we made our way over the southernmost countries of Central America toward the equator, we met a violent weather system, seemingly head on.
The effects of the system tested the pilots' skills and the passengers' ability to drink overpriced cocktails without spilling anything. The turbulence was monumental, and I admit that I was very nervous; scared in fact. I wouldn't have been surprised to see a wing rip from the plane and fly off into the night sky, or the fuselage torn in half. It was that rough.
Fortunately, the pilot flew us quickly above the storm and then away from it, bringing us to a broad patch of clear sky.
Craning my neck to look above, I could see a tapestry of pen-light stars only slightly dimmed by the near full moon, which provided a bright beacon that illuminated even the jet. Off to my right and below us roiled the storm we had just escaped, and as we crossed the equator, I was treated to the beautiful contrast of a clear, star-lit canopy above a thunder and lightening storm.
As it was only days after the 4th of July celebration in the US, I couldn't help but take pity on us for being so impressed with our man-made fireworks. The light show I witnessed outside my window was nature at it's most violent and beautiful, and I watched the display in awe well into the South American morning.
At daybreak, we learned that the airport in Sao Paulo was closed due to fog, so we had to circle over an agricultural area until it was clear. The Brazilians use ethanol for fuel, and we could see a multitude of refineries below us, each adjacent to the sugar cane or other crop designated for refining.
Upon final approach into Sao Paulo, I was taken aback by the enormous size of the city. I have flown over New York and Los Angeles, but neither of those cities holds a candle to Sao Paulo. And I imagine that even Tokyo pales by comparison; at least in area.
I can't say the feeling it gave me to see such human progress was pleasant. In fact, it turned my stomach. The word that popped into my head at seeing the miles and miles of high-rises and slums and business districts and factories and cars was simply "infestation". If you've never had a sense that there are enough human beings walking this planet, I urge you to see Sao Paulo. You might even begin to think there are too many.
Aside from that, part of Sao Paulo is set right along a beautiful coastline of hills and cliffs and the Atlantic is gorgeous. We hopped from Sao Paulo to Rio, and Rio is likewise set up against the coastline with the same beautiful hills and cliffs mixed amid long sandy beaches.
Despite the ubiquitous use of ethanol, Rio boasts a layer of smog that is sort of symbolic of the city itself. One finds a haze blanketing some of the most beautiful geography on Earth. Likewise, the city boasts modern architecture and beautiful historic settings, but the poverty and presence of crime and desperation create a dark cloud of its own.
The people of Rio are wonderful. At least the ones we met were. They work hard and have some of the same headaches as anyone, but they are free, and make a point of enjoying themselves. Much of the spirit of Carnival seems to exist year round, and that alone makes Rio worth visiting.
I'd like to say more about the most popular tourist destination in South America, but I won't comment further on Rio until I have the opportunity to stay there longer. Hopefully that will be soon.
Next we were off to Salvador, which is about 1000 miles northeast of Rio. Salvador was at one time Brazil's capital city, and has more historic places to visit than we could see in the short time we had. Still, I was very impressed with Salvador, and have some new Salvadoran friends I hope to keep for a long time.
About 75 clicks outside of Salvador, we found a resort community along the coastline. It was a beautiful place to stay and to call home base as we explored the country further. Everything else that we did dealt with the ocean or the beach in some form.
I came out of the hotel the first morning there, and literally only had to walk about 200 meters down the beach to find a really good beach break. We got in the water that morning and surfed with some locals for several hours. The sets stayed consistently chest high with the occasional overhead washing through, and the sun was shining without a cloud in the sky the entire time.
It was exactly what I had gone to Brazil for!!
Afterward, we got some food and enjoyed the first chopp (small glass of cerveja) of many more to come.
By the way, the language barrier was as it is any country, but Portuguese is similar enough to Spanish that we managed to communicate without offending anyone. Well, I don't think we offended anyone. If we did, they didn't let on.
After a rain day spent at the resort, we took a canoe trip along a river that wound along parallel with the shoreline. It was a tranquil trip through some medium-rough countryside, and aside from being attacked by some outrageously large horseflies and a family of spiders, oh and some insects that I'm certain came from another planet, the journey was enjoyable and educational. We did, however, have quite a scare at one point.
About halfway down the river, we pulled the canoes onto the bank, and crossed over some hills and dunes to take a swim in the ocean at a place called Diego's Beach. This particular 2 kilometer stretch of beach is owned by an Italian man who uses it solely to grow and harvest coconuts. The beach itself and the water is completely unused by any tourists, and we soon found out why.
Paddling the canoes down the river was hard work in the heat of the day, so we ran right for the ocean to cool off and to do some body surfing. The water was nice, but since it covered a mostly flat shelf there was a strong undertow. It wasn't too bothersome for those of us familiar with the ocean's peculiarities, but our new Spanish friend, a nice fellow from Barcelona who was on the canoe trip with us, stormed into the water to join us in the fun, and was promptly caught in a rip tide.
Unfortunately, he didn't have any experience with rip tides and tried desperately to swim back to shore, only to be pulled farther out to sea. My Spanish doesn't include the vocabulary for "parallel to shore", so my motions for him to swim that way went unheeded. I'm not sure he could see me anyway in his panicked state.
He was in luck though, as the Brazilian guide had a life preserver in his canoe. The guide chunked the floating ring to our struggling Spanish friend and we all pulled him back to safety, much to the delight of his girlfriend who had gone into hysterics on shore. It was a close call, but I'm sure the folks back in Barcelona have already heard the story more than once by now.
After that little scare, we paddled farther down the river. We found another awesome surf spot a few kilometers south of Diego's Beach. Unfortunately for me, as I was climbing out of my canoe, my back spasmed and I was suddenly unable to stand up straight. I was flummoxed by the odd injury and angry because there was no chance I could stand up on a surfboard, let alone paddle out past the break. So I was resigned to sit and drink many Skols (brand of beer) and watch. I didn't complain too much. The next day I was myself again.
We stayed in the Salvador area for a full week, but that was too short a time. There is so much to see and do. We made it one day to a place called Praia do Forte, which is essentially a shopping village, but it surrounds an institution where several oceanographic projects are being conducted. They have a sea turtle sanctuary where they are working to help the sea turtles survive, and there is even a whale watching area nearby, though the season was wrong for any sightings.
But with all the stories of slashing and burning in the rain forest we heard, it was good to see the Brazilians' genuine concern for the beautiful environment around them.
The diversity of the people is another mote of inspiration that Brazil offers. The fact that so many people of differing heritages get along as though brothers and sisters makes one wonder why there is any racism left in the world. When the Portuguese arrived in Brazil 500 years ago, there were over 1000 indigenous tribes. Now there are fewer than 200. But the mixture makes for stunningly beautiful people, and the cultures have blended seemingly effortlessly.
We broke bread with so many different people, and we drank with them, and we swam in the ocean with them. But when it comes down to it a smile is a smile. And the lightness or darkness of the face it's coming from matters very little. Fortunately for us, smiling and laughing were the activities we did with the most regularity.
And before we knew it, it was time to re-enter the chaos of international travel and carve out a long, winding path back to Texas.
Late bookings found us hopping all over Brazil, until we finally made it back to Rio and then eventually to Sao Paulo. A day and a half later and with no sleep, we touched down in Houston, weary but happy with the memories of our experiences, and richer for the new friends we'd made.
In all, the trip was wonderful, even on slow days. Of course, the adventures are what I look for most in my travels, but there's something to be said for simply sitting on the sand with a drink enjoying the sunshine, the coconut trees, the sea turtles, and the Brazilians.
It is most definitely all good.
Until next time, tchau Brazil!
Also, I can't guarantee any level of entertainment for the reader at this time. Perhaps I'll embellish this post later with the proper narrative and humor, but for now this will just be a brain dump.
Consider yourself forewarned.
The flight from Houston to Sao Paulo figured to be uneventful, because most of the journey was to take place at night. However, I was unexpectedly treated to the single most amazing airplane ride of my entire life.
Now, as was expected, nothing of significance occurred as we crossed the Gulf of Mexico, and my prediction of an uneventful flight seemed secure. But, as we made our way over the southernmost countries of Central America toward the equator, we met a violent weather system, seemingly head on.
The effects of the system tested the pilots' skills and the passengers' ability to drink overpriced cocktails without spilling anything. The turbulence was monumental, and I admit that I was very nervous; scared in fact. I wouldn't have been surprised to see a wing rip from the plane and fly off into the night sky, or the fuselage torn in half. It was that rough.
Fortunately, the pilot flew us quickly above the storm and then away from it, bringing us to a broad patch of clear sky.
Craning my neck to look above, I could see a tapestry of pen-light stars only slightly dimmed by the near full moon, which provided a bright beacon that illuminated even the jet. Off to my right and below us roiled the storm we had just escaped, and as we crossed the equator, I was treated to the beautiful contrast of a clear, star-lit canopy above a thunder and lightening storm.
As it was only days after the 4th of July celebration in the US, I couldn't help but take pity on us for being so impressed with our man-made fireworks. The light show I witnessed outside my window was nature at it's most violent and beautiful, and I watched the display in awe well into the South American morning.
At daybreak, we learned that the airport in Sao Paulo was closed due to fog, so we had to circle over an agricultural area until it was clear. The Brazilians use ethanol for fuel, and we could see a multitude of refineries below us, each adjacent to the sugar cane or other crop designated for refining.
Upon final approach into Sao Paulo, I was taken aback by the enormous size of the city. I have flown over New York and Los Angeles, but neither of those cities holds a candle to Sao Paulo. And I imagine that even Tokyo pales by comparison; at least in area.
I can't say the feeling it gave me to see such human progress was pleasant. In fact, it turned my stomach. The word that popped into my head at seeing the miles and miles of high-rises and slums and business districts and factories and cars was simply "infestation". If you've never had a sense that there are enough human beings walking this planet, I urge you to see Sao Paulo. You might even begin to think there are too many.
Aside from that, part of Sao Paulo is set right along a beautiful coastline of hills and cliffs and the Atlantic is gorgeous. We hopped from Sao Paulo to Rio, and Rio is likewise set up against the coastline with the same beautiful hills and cliffs mixed amid long sandy beaches.
Despite the ubiquitous use of ethanol, Rio boasts a layer of smog that is sort of symbolic of the city itself. One finds a haze blanketing some of the most beautiful geography on Earth. Likewise, the city boasts modern architecture and beautiful historic settings, but the poverty and presence of crime and desperation create a dark cloud of its own.
The people of Rio are wonderful. At least the ones we met were. They work hard and have some of the same headaches as anyone, but they are free, and make a point of enjoying themselves. Much of the spirit of Carnival seems to exist year round, and that alone makes Rio worth visiting.
I'd like to say more about the most popular tourist destination in South America, but I won't comment further on Rio until I have the opportunity to stay there longer. Hopefully that will be soon.
Next we were off to Salvador, which is about 1000 miles northeast of Rio. Salvador was at one time Brazil's capital city, and has more historic places to visit than we could see in the short time we had. Still, I was very impressed with Salvador, and have some new Salvadoran friends I hope to keep for a long time.
About 75 clicks outside of Salvador, we found a resort community along the coastline. It was a beautiful place to stay and to call home base as we explored the country further. Everything else that we did dealt with the ocean or the beach in some form.
I came out of the hotel the first morning there, and literally only had to walk about 200 meters down the beach to find a really good beach break. We got in the water that morning and surfed with some locals for several hours. The sets stayed consistently chest high with the occasional overhead washing through, and the sun was shining without a cloud in the sky the entire time.
It was exactly what I had gone to Brazil for!!
Afterward, we got some food and enjoyed the first chopp (small glass of cerveja) of many more to come.
By the way, the language barrier was as it is any country, but Portuguese is similar enough to Spanish that we managed to communicate without offending anyone. Well, I don't think we offended anyone. If we did, they didn't let on.
After a rain day spent at the resort, we took a canoe trip along a river that wound along parallel with the shoreline. It was a tranquil trip through some medium-rough countryside, and aside from being attacked by some outrageously large horseflies and a family of spiders, oh and some insects that I'm certain came from another planet, the journey was enjoyable and educational. We did, however, have quite a scare at one point.
About halfway down the river, we pulled the canoes onto the bank, and crossed over some hills and dunes to take a swim in the ocean at a place called Diego's Beach. This particular 2 kilometer stretch of beach is owned by an Italian man who uses it solely to grow and harvest coconuts. The beach itself and the water is completely unused by any tourists, and we soon found out why.
Paddling the canoes down the river was hard work in the heat of the day, so we ran right for the ocean to cool off and to do some body surfing. The water was nice, but since it covered a mostly flat shelf there was a strong undertow. It wasn't too bothersome for those of us familiar with the ocean's peculiarities, but our new Spanish friend, a nice fellow from Barcelona who was on the canoe trip with us, stormed into the water to join us in the fun, and was promptly caught in a rip tide.
Unfortunately, he didn't have any experience with rip tides and tried desperately to swim back to shore, only to be pulled farther out to sea. My Spanish doesn't include the vocabulary for "parallel to shore", so my motions for him to swim that way went unheeded. I'm not sure he could see me anyway in his panicked state.
He was in luck though, as the Brazilian guide had a life preserver in his canoe. The guide chunked the floating ring to our struggling Spanish friend and we all pulled him back to safety, much to the delight of his girlfriend who had gone into hysterics on shore. It was a close call, but I'm sure the folks back in Barcelona have already heard the story more than once by now.
After that little scare, we paddled farther down the river. We found another awesome surf spot a few kilometers south of Diego's Beach. Unfortunately for me, as I was climbing out of my canoe, my back spasmed and I was suddenly unable to stand up straight. I was flummoxed by the odd injury and angry because there was no chance I could stand up on a surfboard, let alone paddle out past the break. So I was resigned to sit and drink many Skols (brand of beer) and watch. I didn't complain too much. The next day I was myself again.
We stayed in the Salvador area for a full week, but that was too short a time. There is so much to see and do. We made it one day to a place called Praia do Forte, which is essentially a shopping village, but it surrounds an institution where several oceanographic projects are being conducted. They have a sea turtle sanctuary where they are working to help the sea turtles survive, and there is even a whale watching area nearby, though the season was wrong for any sightings.
But with all the stories of slashing and burning in the rain forest we heard, it was good to see the Brazilians' genuine concern for the beautiful environment around them.
The diversity of the people is another mote of inspiration that Brazil offers. The fact that so many people of differing heritages get along as though brothers and sisters makes one wonder why there is any racism left in the world. When the Portuguese arrived in Brazil 500 years ago, there were over 1000 indigenous tribes. Now there are fewer than 200. But the mixture makes for stunningly beautiful people, and the cultures have blended seemingly effortlessly.
We broke bread with so many different people, and we drank with them, and we swam in the ocean with them. But when it comes down to it a smile is a smile. And the lightness or darkness of the face it's coming from matters very little. Fortunately for us, smiling and laughing were the activities we did with the most regularity.
And before we knew it, it was time to re-enter the chaos of international travel and carve out a long, winding path back to Texas.
Late bookings found us hopping all over Brazil, until we finally made it back to Rio and then eventually to Sao Paulo. A day and a half later and with no sleep, we touched down in Houston, weary but happy with the memories of our experiences, and richer for the new friends we'd made.
In all, the trip was wonderful, even on slow days. Of course, the adventures are what I look for most in my travels, but there's something to be said for simply sitting on the sand with a drink enjoying the sunshine, the coconut trees, the sea turtles, and the Brazilians.
It is most definitely all good.
Until next time, tchau Brazil!
posted by Sam Ogden at
2:34 PM
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