Paraty is restored

Following the dip in the sea on Monday morning, I enjoyed a well earned rest and surfaced around midday. Eventually me and Craig headed to Sugar Loaf Mountain as the weather seemed fine, meaning we would probably get some good photos. As we both fancied a bit of a challenge, we decided against getting the two cable cars to the summit and instead walked the first peak, where on top we would find the second cable car station which would then take us over to Sugar Loaf, a separate peak. The hike was pretty gruelling but good fun all the same. Despite being a ten minute taxi drive from our hostel on Copacabana, it seemed a world away, with only forest and sea surrounding us. After about an hour we made it. There, I gorged on guava juice and some M&Ms while Craig had his usual dose of Acai (A Brazilian slush thing that is made up of some form of berry). Also there were some small monkeys and sadly, a rather big cloud hanging over Rio. Alarmed, we made a dash for the cable car up to the top and there, we were greeted with yet more cloud. Suffice to say, we didn´t hang around long, especially as daylight was on it´s last legs and we still had to make the return trek from the other peak. We could have got a cable car but as I said, it was a challenge we were looking for and this element was the only thing we had to cling onto in our otherwise unsuccessful day.

In the evening, we played pool with other travellers and hung out until the early hours, drinking beers and caipirinhas.

Tuesday came and with it, a fond farewell to Rio. As Craig was heading to Ilha Grande with his lady and a friend, I figured I should join them and head to what I thought would be warmer climes.

I loaded my bags in a van and was ready to jump in and go but there had been an admin error, techincally my fault for not handing in my receipt, and so I had to wait a further thirty minutes before I was picked up. As there were more people making the trip than planned from our place, I had to hop in a taxi with some randoms from another hostel and make the two hour journey a few miles behind my backpack. To give my story a greater context, their names were Ben and Roxy (a couple) and Joe (English equivalent of), a Dutch chap who works for some form of marine police.

We arrived at a little port one hundred kiometeres south of Rio in blazing sunshine and soon were on a little fishing boat, heading over to paradise island. The hostel itself looked amazing, with a lovely terrace, barbeque area and hammocks, all just a stones roll away from the waters edge.

In the evening, we had a barbeque which unfortunately didn´t come close to the one I´d annihilated a few nights before at Mellow Yellow. Still, there was beer, music and plenty of happy faces. Once this was digested, I headed to a nearby beach with Craig so he could get some pretty moon pictures then we trundled further along to a perfectly placed bar, slap bang on the beach front, for a nicley chilled beer and a chat.

Wednesday was here but the sun had vanished. Again, me and Craig sought adventure and saw a bike ride to a nearby (thirteen kilometers) derelict prison as the remedy. With no gears and a mountain range ahead of us, off we went. Five minutes had barely passed before we found ourselves pushing the bikes up a snaking dirt track, seemingly to nowhere. As we climbed and climbed, so too the clouds got closer and closer. By the time we reached the summit to go down from, the drizzle was fast becoming a monsoon. Craig´s chain fell off and despite sorting this out, we very quickly realised this would be another failed mission. Tails between our wet legs, we took our bikes back up to the recently crossed summit and made our decent, back to where we started.

In the evening, tired and dejected, we ate at a local eatery. I enjoyed some brail meat which was consumed with my eyes open and Craig had bolognese. Then after a power nap, I headed to the neighbouring hostel for a quick beer or two before having an early night.

Another new day, but sadly the same old weather. Now it was windy as well and the rain torrential. I just made a couple of visits into the town to grab food, jump online and generally just do something. My cockney chum Craig left with his female party and I played pool against a local on the uber difficult tables they have over here. The pockets are stupidly small but I gave him a run for his money so I was quite happy. He also over hit a break and he had to make a fishing rod to rescue the white ball from the sea.

Next door was where the drink and food was at so I put my name down and got a huge plate of steak, salad, rice and mash. The beers were flowing (two of them free) and I even had a few games of Shithead with another southerner called Ciaran and the new Irish girls from my dorm. One more free beer followed after I manned the reception for the girl working there while she went `Out of Office` for a few minutes. Anyhow, we laughed, drank and danced a little until we could stand no more.

With the weather forecast still predicting depression, I brought forward my exit plans and jumped on the morning ferry back to the mainland, from where I grabbed a two hour bus to my current location.

Paraty is what she goes by. A lovely little colonial town which if I remember correctly, has it´s entire centre listed as a national hisorical monument. It really is beautiful, with cobbled streets and craft shops at every turn. Also, the internet is cheap here and I can actually do some washing that will dry. I´m booked in for a couple of nights but I may stay a day longer, I like it so much. Yes, I like it one day more than I thought I would. And the rain has gone.

I am particularly excited about tomorrow night, when I´m going to see En Concerto, an allegedly famous silent puppet show in a little theatre in the town. Check it here... I´ve bought my front row seat for what sounds like a magical piece of creativity, although it does mean I won´t be doing a jeep or boat trip as my budget told me`one or the other.`

Before I go, the hostel is also great, as it´s very homely with nice bed sheets and friendly people running it.

I´ve started using Flickr to ditch all the photos I take from my memory card so please, feel free and go check them out at www.flickr.com/jmage and hit the image on the right that says `Brasil.` Be aware that all these photos are being taken with a compact Panasonic DMC-LZ5 camera (thanks Stef), not my Canon SLR, so the standard may not be as hot as you´d expect but tough, it´s the best I can do at the moment.