We were picked up today by Mathilde, our tour guide. Started off driving up Corcovado to view Christ the Redemptor up close and personal. The statue was built at the strong suggestion of the church and placed on top of a mountain peak in a location so you can see it from almost every part of the city. Quite a feat, too; concrete that was poured into the mold up on top of the mountain, and the hands and head were brought over from France, created by a famous sculptor whose name escapes us. We shook hands:
Next stop, the Botanical gardens. I wanted to see the hummingbird and butterfly garden, the Amazon water lilies (what would Monet do?) and the orchid house. Beautifully cared for, you could really imagine much of the foliage in the Amazon – it looked like it was growing in the Land of the Giants. Lilies didn’t actually grow so big, though, because not enough space, but pretty nonetheless. In the hummingbird garden, we found only a few playful butterflies – too late in the morning for those beauties. The orchid pavilion was filled with orchids, only some of which were blooming:
Hands inside the car, ladies and gentlemen, next stop is Ipanema beach. Valerie and I arrange to meet up with our guide in about an hour and check out a few bathing suit shops, then walk down onto the beige sands amongst the bronze bodies and multitude of thongs until we meet back with our driver at number nine (big sign posted along beaches with numbers to create meet-up spots)….ooh, look at the guy carrying a myriad of locally woven hats pinned all over a giant umbrella; how does he walk through the sand holding that burden so high in the air? Let’s ask him….oh, let’s try one on….oh, don’t you think we could get a better deal if we negotiate for two? Definitely!
Off to the northeastern market, which is supposed to be filled with local crafts and great food from the north. Actually turned out to be pretty empty; the really busy days are Saturday and Sunday. We do stop for a late lunch and I tell Mathilde that I just want some beans and rice. She orders for us and out comes a deep cast-iron skillet filled with what looks kind of like black-eyed peas and orzo-type rice, all topped with fried onions and local cheese. Yum! And of course we top it all with our favorite condiment – the oil that’s been marinated with a whole lot of little green, red and orange piquant peppers. Definitely going to try and make that when we return.
Last stop is riding the cable cars up to the top of Sugarloaf mountain. I’m a little nervous, but up we go. Everyone pushes into the car, the door closes and after a moment it glides up the cable. Only 3 minutes to get from one station to the next and absolutely silent. The views become more spectacular the higher up you rise. The first car arrives at Urca Hill, named after a wreck on the nearby reef of a ship by the same name over a hundred years ago. We walk around to the next station to climb aboard the car that will carry us up to Sugarloaf.
How did the mountain get it’s name, you ask? Well, back in the day, the Portuguese transported sugar back home by compressing it into “loaves” of such a shape that when the invaders first saw the mountain, they exclaimed it looked just like a sugar loaf. And so…..
Walked around to board the second car, which rides from Urca up to Sugarloaf. The views become even more spectacular and we can see almost 360 degrees around the city. I will post a movie shot when I return, but until then:
Here you can see below to Urca hill and the cable car running between the two:
Back down in reverse, then back to our little castle on the hill. What a day! We had to crash for a bit, then headed out to dinner on the back balcony of a little restaurant in the niehgborhood that came highly rated. Food was pretty good, but enough with the sauces dumped all over everything! From there, we cabbed it to the club neighborhood of Lapa, and it was like New Orleans….(young) people everywhere, spilling out of clubs and sitting in sidewalk cafes, and music wafting out of windows. We were headed to Carioca de Gema, which a gentleman from a few nights before had recommended to us for its marvelous singer. We waited behind the rope to get in, and then pushed our way into the small, crowded room. We perched on the narrow, winding staircase with a perfect view of the stage, about 15 feet in front of us. The 8-piece band was great, and I noticed that a strong clarinet player is a central piece of much of the live music we’d enjoyed. Singers took turns and the main floor of the club became more and more crowded (a space about 18 feet by 25 and filled at first with 70% men). We enjoyed the music and various (really beautiful) dancing couples for about an hour, then left to check out the rest of the street. Headed home for a much-needed rest!