Justin did not want to separate and I had to argue the case that it would be too expensive and a logistical nightmare to try to get all 5 of us to Rio. We'd paid the most money for the hotel of any place on our trip (week of Carnaval) and the kids had been up all night. Relunctantly, he boarded the flight with Sam, Ben and a tearful Andy following. No problem, I assured them, I'll see you later in the day.
Finding myself outside in the blinding light of morning (and having paid the landing duties for Chile), I felt like I was in a dream, so dazed and tired. I found airport taxi drivers with official badges and when I requested a drive to the Brazilian embassy, the first driver said no probs. But, 20 minutes later I found he wasn't so sure where it was so we drove around downtown for ages trying to locate it together with Hey, Amigo, the Brazil Embajara? called out to every streetcleaner and innocent pedestrian on our route. At least Santiago is a clean, modern place to float about for a morning. Finally at the Brazilian embassy, my driver insisted on following me into the embassy and started arguing the case for me to get front-door service as we saw a queue a block long trying to get in (again, that damned carnaval week).
Inside, having run through the passport and visa situation with the Brazilian embassy folks I got no results of any sort - there were hundreds of people waiting ahead of me to sort out their visas so they could get to Carnaval (starting in 2 days). I was told it would take a minimum of 10 days to start a new application and I would have to meet my family elsewhere. Having no sleep in more than 24 hours and with Andy's birthday the following day, I did what any respectable mum would do in this situation and burst into tears. What a nightmare!!
The taxi driver insisted on driving me on over to the UK embassy - whom I was told were the best chance for a helping hand. Common sense told me to shake this guy - I told him I could find a city taxi, he should return to the airport. But he seemed determined to stay by my side and I was tired and weary. He said he was a catholic man with a wife and children and wanted to make sure I resolved this situation and wouldn't take no for an answer. I let him drive me to the UK embassy.
Luckily, at the British embassy, it was quiet. And I found some very helpful people. I showed them copies of all my important documents (thankfully, I'd had the forethought, for once, to copy all passports, marriage certs, British naturalisations certs and so on!!). By 5 PM, with all their help, I was ready to be on my way back to the airport to join the family - I was eternally grateful for their support!! And when they realised that the guy with me was the driver from the airport that morning, they were concerned, thinking I may have been in a 2nd sinister situation (I had forgotten he was waiting for me downstairs, from several hours earlier!). So they got rid of the potentially psycho taxi driver and helped me get to the airport with an embassy driver - the 2nd time they came through in a day, I'd say they are on my favorites list for sure!
Finally on my way to Rio I was more grateful than ever to be about to enjoy Andy's birthday, Rio and Carnaval - 3 things that seemed unattainable earlier in the day.
I found my family returning from the Copacabana beach back to our hotel, the Olinda Rio across the street. What a beautiful beach. Beautiful city. Beautiful people. Really Rio is one of those places that lives up to and, perhaps, exceeds the expectations. All the beautiful bodies were out in skimpy thong bikinis (and, erm, some that shouldn't have been as well..). People in crazy costumes walked down the boardwalk. Samba music here there and everywhere. Free flowing Brahma beer and caipirinha cocktails. Undoubtedly a good mix.
We signed up for a tour of Sugar Loaf mountain and the Corcovada mountain with the Christ statue and were enthusiastic as we boarded a small van with a few other people. It was our guide's birthday as well as Andy's. We drove through town and towards Corcovada.
At the base of most of the numerous little mountains surrounding Rio central, there are flavellas ambling up the hillsides. The flavellas are neighborhoods notorious for poverty and crime. However, we were told most flavellas were actually quite safe - especially in the recent half decade. The government had invested a lot of money in placing police into the flavellas and sorting out the criminal activities. Many flavellas we saw looked very run down. But at the same time, this is apparently where a lot of the character and traditions in the city can be found.
Justin and I had just finished watching City of God (great independent film, by the way ) and were fascinated by the favellas and wondering where the City of God was located. Not that we planned a trip there as that would have consisted of pre-arming ourselves with weapons on the way, according to the movie anyway.
The hillside up to Corcovada is different. It was settled long ago by the well-heeled Europeans and the affluent citizens of Rio. Nowadays, that neighborhood is still lovely with gorgeous homes surrounded by plentiful trees. This gives way to forest land halfway up the mountain and remains so until the base of the Christ statue site.
To say that this is a touristy spot is an incredible understatement. Justin and I found ourselves floating in a sea of tourists with dodgy shorts and huge cameras. Hundreds of people were eagerly trying to snap themselves in front of the Christ statue, arms outspread mimicking his stance. It was all we could do to keep the kids by our sides as the tides tried to pull them in different directions.
The Christ statue is amazing, to be sure. It's sheer size is amazing, but the smoothness of the soapstone carving and the beauty of the design are worth the visit. Even surrounded by hundreds of noisy folks, I felt peaceful and calm staring at the statue. Then I turned around and saw the multitudes again and it was time to head out.
Before the second leg of the tour we stopped for lunch at what we realised was pretty much a bus stop for every tour running through town. Food was shovelled at us until we help a white flag up in surrender and we made our way back outside a bit before the rest of our crowd. At this point, we realised that our tour was changing and we would board a bigger bus with most of the people we'd seen inside the restaurant. Hmmm, a look definitely traded faces between Justin and I.
We are not cut out for big tourist tours. I hate most things about them. The feeling of being a controlled child, the guide a parent. Being trapped in a bus/van. Guides yelling (or whistling) Time's Up! after you'v just reached a new destination. Being stuck with some tourists that we'd rather not know.
So, that said, as soon as we arrived at Sugar Loaf, we split from the tour. We told them we'd just rather stay and gaze at the view from SugarLoaf for longer than our allotted 15 minutes. Then we bought caipirinhas and sodas and settled in to admire the view feeling more and more relaxed every minute. The view from Sugarloaf is nothing short of breath taking. Rio is a city built around water, surrounded by inlets, skimming past lagoons, laced by mountains and misty clouds... and of course, book-ended by two of the most famous sights in the world: the Christ statue and SugarLoaf. We could have stayed for hours. And we kind of did! It was only our energetic children which finally got us moving back down the moutain to Copacabana beach and our hotel.
Because it was Andy's birthday, he was able to choose from the touristy gifts on offer. He carefully selected a crystal cube that contained an internally engraved Christ the Redeemer statue. We all took turns looking at Christ from the top, through his sleeves and even up his robe - which disappointingly had no legs, pants or other detail ... I'm not sure if this is confessional material??
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