Scot Walker--The Adventure Begins

The Adventure Begins

Wednesday, February 16, 2000

Scot Walker

The Tropical Hotel in Manaus. Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

I sensed from the beginning that some things would go wrong. To begin with, my travel agent had left me almost no time to make a transfer. He claimed that 45 minutes would be enough time to transfer from a domestic flight to an international flight in Miami! I knew he was wrong, but got tired of arguing with him after the 3rd or 4th go-round.

I arrived 4 hours early, just in case something went wrong! Soon I met Alex and Greta, a young couple from Holland, who planned to spend the next two weeks in Florida. They said they were going to start in Miami, then drive all the way down the Keys, make a full circle of Southern Florida, visit Disney World and then head back to Miami. I envied them. I had a chance to visit the Keys last year, but was unable to take advantage of the opportunity. We talked for 3 hours and I was glad we chatted: it made the time go by much faster and it helped alleviate my stress. My stress level rose as the afternoon eroded. My plane was delayed. First for 15 minutes. Then for 30 minutes. Then for an hour. Finally, for an hour and a half. A little after 7 PM, my plane took off, but we were doomed from the start. There was no possible way that I'd be able to make my connection!

At least I was forwarned. I guess it could have been worse, like a last-minute delayed landing or something like that. We landed an hour later than scheduled, and my connection had left on time! In fact, it had taken off from a different terminal, so I probably would have missed it anyway. I went to the information counter and told them my problem. The agent helped me transfer my ticket from United to Bolivian Air and then helped me locate my bag. She told the airline employees to transfer it and then she walked me to my plane. Within minutes, I was on the plane, heading to Brazil. Unfortunately, the jet was a older than dirt and it was filled with six million three hundred twenty seven thousand screaming babies. Bags were crammed everywhere and each person seemed to have brought enough personal luggage to fill the entire state of Kansas! I sat next to a woman with a baby who kept kicking my leg, but rather than fuming and fussing, like I Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.used to do, I politely asked her to change places with her husband. She did without a problem. They were Canadians and had spent two days travelling from Vancouver with their two small children. I felt sorry for them, but was glad I asked the wife to move -- I don't think I could have put up with a screaming kicking baby for the 8-hour flight. I slept fitfully. Each time I dosed, someone in the crew would get on the intercom and announce "Seat Belt Sign On" or "Seat Belt Sign Off!" This continued all night long and, to say the least, it was very disconcerting.

ARRIVING IN MANAUS
Thursday, February 17

Manaus is 3 degrees south of the Equator, 100 feet above sea level and 1,000 miles from the ocean so it is always hot and to me it was wonderful because I love hot weather!

I arrived in Manaus at 5 AM, two hours earlier than my originally scheduled flight since this Air Bolivia flight was non-stop. Unfortunately, my expediter didn't know about the change, so I had to pay for a cab to get to my hotel.

The Tropical Hotel was fantastic and put every other 5-star hotel to shame! My room, which overlooked the pool and cabana, was huge, ornate and richly appointed.

The Tropical Hotel, according to the guidebook:

A palatial oasis in the Amazon jungle is a hacienda-like hotel in a sprawling maze of 608 rooms. Dominating the lobby is a three-story atrium housing a great white heron and tropical ducks that perform tricks every morning. A magnificent pool complex famous features a waterfalls gushing over rocky cliffs. A mini-zoo features jaguars and pumas. There is also a 20-store shopping center, several tennis courts and 3 hiking trails. The rooms are lavishly appointed with a chic-rustic allure. The three restaurants are spectacular: a barbecue buffet poolside, a candlelit gourmet restaurant and a charming coffee shop.

In the afternoon, I toured the city of Manaus. I saw the Opera House, which was completed in 1896. It was a world-class theatre; both the Russian Ballet and Jenny Lind performed here. There is a huge backdrop representing the Meeting of the Waters and the orchestra pit, operating on a hydraulic system, can be raised or lowered 9 feet. The bronze chandeliers are from France. The theatre, which was designed in the Italian Renaissance style, took 17 years to build and cost $3 million. It's built entirely of materials imported from Europe, with the exception of the wood, which is 100% Brazilian. The wrought iron skeleton was brought from Scotland and the stone from Italy. The 60,000 roof tiles were shipped from Alsace-Lorraine and glazed in the Brazilian national colors. Busts of popular Brazilian artists top the Verona marble doorways. Upstairs, the ballroom consists of 12,000 pieces of Amazon mahogany.

Outside, on the San Sebastian Plaza, the sidewalk is made up of wavy black and white mosaic tiles, once again representing the Meeting of the Waters (Manaus is on the confluence of the Rio Negro and the Rio Solimoes, which form the Amazon). In the middle of the city square stands the Monument to the Opening of the Ports, a marble and granite creation with ships representing the continents. Across the park is the church of San Sebastian.

After leaving the town square, I toured the market. There were musicians playing samba music and, of course, I danced and they all held up their thumbs in approval! It was one of those magical moments I've experienced so many other times in Brazil. I think, in another life, I was Brazilian, alive and vibrant, and filled with the energy that only samba and true Brazilians possess. The market was typical of so many others, crammed pack with spices, fresh vegetables, fish, freshly butchered meat, and just about anything anybody could or would ever want to buy. After leaving the market, I walked along the Amazon for a while, stretching my eyes as I gazed at the distant shore, trying to imagine a body of water so wide, . . . so long, . . . so immense!

In the evening, I had one of the best dinners I've ever eaten! I tried alligator, piranha soup, wild boar, grilled fish, coffee, veggies, fruit, rice with nuts, and a million desserts. I enjoyed the food so much that I asked to talk to the manager to tell him. On the way out, an actor, dressed as an Amazon Indian, handed me a brochure. I didn't read it until I got to my room and it dawned on me that there was going to be a show that evening in the restaurant's ballroom (I had heard them setting up, but was still tired from jet lag and didn't put two and two together). I called the front desk and asked what time the show was going to start and when they said now, I hurried downstairs. Since I'd been such a gentleman and told the staff how wonderful everything was, they led me to a front row seat. The samba show, Raizes de um Povo, was fantastic. Not only were there dozens of dances, but there were also three parades. The most exciting parade happened at the beginning of the show. Eight young semi-nude guys carried a large litter with a huge pedestal. A model of a gigantic yellow bird with flapping wings was on top the pedestal and a young woman sat on back of the bird. On another occasion, the same young woman sat on top of a giant bull, which was on a large pedestal, and again, it was carried by a half dozen semi-naked young guys. There were many cute Samba dancers, and a fire breather, as well. I watched the young fire breather swallow a mixture of water and gasoline (I could smell the gas from my table and could only hope it was diluted). The boy swallowed the mixture and then several seconds -- or even minutes later -- breathed on a torch he carried and fire fumed 8 to 12 feet into the air. It was hot -- in many ways. I sat spellbound for the entire show.

CRUSING DOWN THE AMAZON
Friday, February 18

I slept very well and enjoyed the luxury of having a late breakfast before I walked around the hotel's immense grounds, which were almost as large as the Magic Kingdom in Disney World. In the early afternoon, my driver showed up to take me on my Amazon adventure. My fellow travelers were an Argentinean engineer and his 10-year-old son and 15 year old daughter. Luckily, the girl spoke perfect English and the father spoke some, the boy, however, didn't speak any English at all.

When we got to the shore of the Amazon, I photographed a large cow being hoisted onto a truck. It was bound by all 4 legs and had obviously been transported across the Amazon. A dozen strong men hoisted and heaved him into the pick-up truck. I guessed he'd end up as somebody's dinner the next evening.

Years before, when I visited Egypt, the Nile was exactly what I had expected it to be: a long, thin blue line snaking through the impenetrable desert. On either side, paradise oozed out from the water for a few short miles, then there was nothing but desert, sand, nomads, and desolation.

The Amazon, on the other hand, was nothing at all like I had pictured it. I knew that my take-off point in Manaus was in the heart of the Brazilian rain forest. I knew that its two major branches, the black Rio Negros and the crystal clear Rio Solimoes, converged here to form it. Truer still, I knew that the river would be wide -- but not this wide! I remember a time, years ago, when I flew over the mouth of the Amazon -- five miles high. My mouth gaped as I watched the Herculean waters push the Amazonian loam hundreds of miles into the blue Atlantic. Now I looked out across this stretch of the Amazon, over 1,000 miles from its delta and strained my eyes to see the other side. The trip across the river took nearly 45 minutes to complete -- that's how wide the river was. Picture the movie Water World with water everywhere: streams, lakes, rivers, even puddles the size of the District of Columbia -- all flowing East toward the Atlantic -- some crystal clear, some filled with mud, all mixing, mixing, mixing as they roar toward the delta. And I . . . I stood in awe at the sight, wishing I had come a thousand years before, wishing I had the power and time and money to stay forever.

Half way across the river, we stopped at the Meeting of the Waters where the Rio Negro's black soil meets the Rio Solimoes light blue (or yellow depending on the season). This was a sight I had wanted to see for many years -- and it was extraordinary. Here I was at the source of the mighty Amazon. I had already sailed down the Nile, the Danube, the Yellow, the Yangtze, the Mississippi, the Yukon, the Volga, the Themes, the Seine, the Rhine and the Zambezi, but here I was on the magnificent AMAZON and it was overpowering. My small boat sat in the water and I watched the two colorful rivers flowing side by side for miles.

When we landed on the other side, we walked up an extremely steep ramp to Careiro, a small shantytown, where our bus was waiting for us. We bought cokes and then started down a dirt road to the next river. The trip was 40 miles, but it seemed a lot longer because the road had so many holes in it. I kept having to rethink my geographical knowledge. I had been taught that the Amazon was a mighty river, in fact, it was more like a giant gridlock of rivers and streams -- sort of like a compact city with streets crisscrossing each other, but here, the so-called streets were, in fact, rivers and streams.

The road finally dead-ended at the Araca, a small river and we were ferried across the other side to our small powerboat. It took about an hour and a half to sail up the Araca and then we crossed Piranha Lake before sailing up and Mamori Rivers to Lake Juma and the Amazon Lodge, a four and a half-hour ride that covered the 62 miles from Manaus. All along the way, the views were extraordinary! Each bend, each twist in the river, was better than the one before (The only time I can say the same was during my trip to Transylvania when we crossed mountain range after mountain range. There, too, each vista was more beautiful than the one before).

The lodge was unique! And that's putting it mildly. There were 17 rooms sharing 3 toilets (with sinks) and 3 showers (also with sinks). There was no hot water. There was electricity -- but only during the evening hours -- and the fan in my bedroom had several speeds so it was perfect!

Our first dinner consisted of chicken and fish -- both excellent prepared. I avoided the vegetables, but ate them later in Bahia and Rio with no ill effect. I met an English couple, Irish and Bryan Renshaw, who are traveling with their son and his wife. We chatted during dinner and again after my evening excursion.

In the evening, we went alligator spotting as our guide shined a flashlight into their eyes and grabbed them by their snouts. Alligators are temporarily blinded when lights are cast on their eyes -- and they have red eyes when the light reflects from them. It was really amazing to ride in a boat at twilight, shine my small flashlight along the shore and spot dozens of pairs of red beady eyes staring motionlessly back at me.

When we returned to the lodge, I spent several hours chatting with the Renshaws. Iris told her stories about the cold war - their boss once told them that in case of a nuclear strike, they would have 4 minutes to live. They all started speculating on what they'd do and as they talked, they got sillier and sillier until they all ended up laughing like hyenas. One said she wouldn't have time to smoke a cigarette, another said she wouldn't have time to finish the Lord's Prayer, a third said she wouldn't have time to call her son, another said she wouldn't have time to fix herself a pot of tea. Finally, one woman said she wouldn't even have time to fix and egg and eat it. At that point, Iris and all her friends doubled over with laughter. When her boss entered her office, he found 6 women laughing maniacally and nearly rolling on the floor.

A FRIGHTFUL JUNGLE WALK
Saturday, February 19

I slept fitfully. All night long, I heard the monkeys scampering across the roof of my hut. Then I ate breakfast and went for my jungle walk, which was one of the most nerve-wrecking moments of the trip. I was scared senseless -- the guides had to hack their way through the jungle with machetes and I kept thinking about the Latin American rebels who used their machetes to hack people to death. Then, just as I was getting used to the sights and sounds of the jungle, the kid from Argentina was stung by wasps and became hysterical. By the time his dad calmed him down, I was more than edgy as we hiked up the 30-foot high embankment. And for a third time, just as I started to relax and enjoy the scenery, something happened that freaked me out: our guide told us to watch out for snakes -- especially black and brown ones because they were poisonous. "If I say run," he said, "run and don't ask why because if you get bitten by a snake, you will have to be transported to Manaus, otherwise you'll die." I knew that the trip to Manus would take hours. I could imagine dying on the way. It was not a pretty picture.

Luckily we saw no snakes, but we did see several animal "blinds" where the natives hid in the evening as they went on their hunts. Of course, I'm sure the blinds were for the poachers, but I didn't say anything. Our guide showed us the rosewood tree and gave me a piece of the bark (I have an antique umbrella stand made of rosewood, so it was amazing to see the tree growing in the jungle). He also told us about how endangered many of the trees were, but he kept jabbing at the trees with his machete -- hack, hack, hack. I guess he didn't think it would hurt the tree. Perhaps it would; perhaps it wouldn't, nevertheless, I felt very sorry for the trees. He also showed us the Brazil nut tree, which grows to be 120 feet tall, and the giant shell it produces. Inside each shell there are 14 or 15 Brazil nuts. He cracked open several and we all tried them. They are sweeter -- more like coconut -- and whiter than those we get at home. Ours are yellow and bitter. What a difference! He told us only one animal could crack open the shell of the Brazil nut and then showed us an example of the hole it had made. Later, our guide, who grew up in the jungle and is quite a woodsman, cut down a bamboo stalk and made a crown, a fan, and a toy snake. He also made ashtrays from the Brazil nut casing.

The jungle terrain was rugged and our guide had to hack through the overgrowth so we'd be able to take our tiny mincing steps into the vast wilderness. We saw termites, palm trees, wasps, and scores of insects. I once read that 60% of all the world's insects are in the Amazon rain forest. I believe it! I also noticed the water marks on the trees. The Amazon ebbed and flowed 30 feet or more from wet to the dry season. I learned that there were two types of forest in the Amazon. One grew only on terra firma -- the Brazil Nut tree, for example. But, there was another forest that grew only in the river. Often we would pilot around the trees that were many feet below us. It was straight out of a Stephen King movie. Imagine being on a boat -- with the river 10, 20, 30, 40 feet deep. Trees are all around you and you glide through their branches as you sail down the river. It was unworldly.

After lunch, I took a 3-hour siesta. It was unbearably hot. I wouldn't want to guess the temperature, although I've read that it reaches 120 degrees. And, of course, even though there was electricity, the owner only turned it on in the evenings. So we slept each day from about noon to three. And I mean I slept soundly.

In the afternoon, we went for a reconnaissance cruise, looking for wildlife. Our first stop was the island directly across from the lodge. There we hand-fed a pet monkey. He had had one leg eaten off by an alligator and lived alone on the island in his own private sanctuary. That evening we went piranha fishing and caught eight fish. Six were too small to keep, but we took two home and ate them for dinner that evening.

Just before dinner, three new groups of travelers arrived. The first was a Swiss family of four people. The second was a single man from Austria and the 3rd was a group of two Portuguese. Within a few minutes, we determined that German would be the language of the evening. It's my second language and one of the Swiss boys spoke it as well. The Austrian, of course, spoke it as his native language. The English and Portuguese spoke no German, but I volunteered to translate. WHAT A NIGHT! Mario, the young man from Switzerland, translated his parents and brother's Low German into High German and I passed on the information in my English and in my horrible Portuguese. Then, of course, I had the difficult job of translating Portuguese into High German. My understanding of German is good, but speaking it is another matter. We had a lot of laughs that evening

I don't think I've had as much fun since I sat with a dozen students in Marrakech in 1989. On that occasion, too, we used German as our common language -- even though the group was French, Spanish, American, and Italian. At 10:30, we called it a night -- knowing we'd have early adventures awaiting us in the morning. I slept well, listening once again, to the monkeys scampering across the roof of my Amazonian hut!

MORE AMAZING ADVENTURES
Sunday, February 20

Today was a very special day. The Argentines went off in a canoe and my guide, the Austrian and I went in another. At first I was deathly afraid to get into it - it looked like it would sink at any moment and I had seen several of the other tourist floundering about. The bow was barely inches out of the water and I shook so much when I got in that I forgot to take my camera. The canoe sank another two inches when I boarded, leaving a lip of about an inch or so above the water line. Believe it or not, I, the intrepid adventurer, was terrified! Actually, my fear went beyond terror. I had nearly drowned when I was a boy and I had barely passed swimming class in college. I was respectful of the water as they say. I knew when to pray to Neptune.

I asked the guide how long we'd be gone and when he said 2 hours, I agreed to go for 15 minutes. If I couldn't handle it, I said, he'd have to bring me back. We immediately set out onto Piranha Lake and they obviously named it that for a reason! Again, I was scared senseless. Within a few moments, however, we reached a small stream. We listened to the Argentines behind us. They were singing and chatting and having a wonderful time! We quickly took a different channel, however, and paddled quietly into the forest. Within a few minutes, we saw cream color woodpeckers, parrots and 2 capichino monkeys. Later we saw a red-tailed squirrel. We also saw a scarlet macaw and many banded aracaris (toucans). Then we saw an agouni -- the animal that cracks the Brazil nut shell and eats the nuts. The Austrian spotted him on the ground and we pulled very close and watched him eat for about 20 minutes. It was amazing! I very seldom observe animals in their natural habitat. I have a small steam in my back yard and once watched a beaver swim up stream -- that was beautiful, but sitting in a canoe, in the middle of the Amazon jungle, watching an animal crack a coconut-like shell with its teeth and then devour the nuts inside. It was heaven!

Later, we saw an anteater high up in a tree. We literally jumped out of our canoe and shook the tree watching the anteater race up the tree -- it was an astonishing sight. Our guide said it was one of the few times he had ever seen an anteater. I was delighted that I went on the canoe ride, but I was even gladder that I hadn't gone with the Argentines, who later admitted that they didn't spot any animals at all. For once in my life I was too kind, I didn't tell them that their singing scared away half the animals in the rain forest.

In the afternoon, we set sail in a small powerboat that quickly became a water taxi as we picked up several natives and took them to their homes. There are no roads in the Amazon rain forest, so the only means of transportation is the river. If you don't own a boat, it's imperative that you have a friend who has access to one. So, we ferried several strangers here and there. Then we went to Jose's home; his mother has a wonderful house, called a caboclo. It was built entirely from jungle materials and had a straw roof! She didn't pay for the land. She doesn't pay taxes. She has a maniac field, coffee bushes, orchards, cows, goats, chickens, vegetables, and pretty much everything she'll ever need. The house, which was built on stilts, was high up from the river. There were no windows -- just openings. I didn't ask about monkeys or snakes or insects. There were several pet dogs and cats, however, I imagined them jumping in and out of the windows day and night. The family even owned a small houseboat, which was docked at their own private pier. What a life! And people want to leave Brazil. I wonder why!

Afterwards a short visit, we picked up Jose's wife and sister-in-law and went to the Indian village to watch a soccer game. Our pilot joined in the game while I sat in the grandstands drinking a coke and flicking my eyes from the gorgeous rainbow in front of me to the players on the soccer field. For the first time in many years, I felt worthy to be a human being.

TREKING BACK TO MANAUS
Monday, February 21

I left for Manaus at 6 AM. At first, everything went well as we sailed across Lake Juma to the Mamori River to Piranha Lake to the Araca River. The skies were bright and sunny, even though we had had a torrential downpour the night before. We stopped several times to pick up natives and drop them off at their houses.

Our pilot slowed down as he neared each house, smf I thought he was a taxi driver looking for fares. Then I realized he was driving cautiously and politely. The strait was very narrow and our boat had a large wake. He wanted to make sure the wake didn't disturb his neighbors by upsetting their boats or disrupting their bathing.

The boat ride was, in short, wonderful, but when we got to the road, our problems began. It had rained the night before and the road had washed out. We were ferried across the river, but a truck took off just before we did and, of course, it got stuck in the mud. It was stuck for over twenty minutes and our driver became more and more frustrated. He knew that we still needed to cross the Amazon, drive through town and reach the airport for our morning flight to Bahia. So, we backed down the hill and waited. And waited. And waited. When several dozen men finally pushed the truck out of the mud, we tried, but we had already gone up part of the hill and had lost our momentum, so we, too, got stuck. It was at that moment that I was most thankful that I had worn my jungle boots since we all had to get out and push. Several strangers volunteered to help and within five minutes or so, we were back on our way - on a slightly drier road. As a reward, however, the car-pushers were allowed to climb aboard and ride with us to Manaus. By the end of the trip, we had picked up 4 men, 2 women and 3 kid hitchhikers. We got stuck a second time and again, we all had to get out of the truck. This time, I was pissed because my boots and jeans were covered with mud. It took us four and half-hours to get to Manaus and then we had to drop off the Argentine to his downtown hotel and pick up my suitcase at the Tropical. The Austrian was very frustrated, but he didn't say anything.

At 1:25, I flew from Manaus for the two and a half hour flight to Brasilia. The new airport is fantastic -- not at all like the old horrible one I visited so many years ago. Everyone speaks English now and all the announcements are in English as well as in Portuguese. I had a light snack and then relaxed as I waited for my flight to Bahia. At 7:48, I left Brasilia and arrived in Bahia at 9:35 PM. I took a taxi to the Marazul Hotel, which is right on the Ocean and there are a dozen restaurants nearby, as well. The bus stop is nearby and there's a laundry around the corner. What more could anyone want!

ARRIVING IN SALVADOR BAHIA
Tuesday, February 22

First thing in the morning, I went to the beach, then I took my laundry to the local laundria. I had just returned from the jungle and everything was filthy. The people at the laundry washed, dried and folded everything for me for a total of $3 -- the hotel wanted $3 for each item! Meanwhile, I walked around the Fort. Then my friend, Nando arrived and we talked and walked to the lighthouse. We ate lunch and then we took the bus to Pelourinho (the ancient Whipping Post Square and Slave Market. Pelourinho is now the main city square). I had started to go there earlier on my own, but couldn't find the bus. I saw hundreds of people waiting in one line and, thinking that it was the bus line, I gave up. That long bus line turned out to be a help-wanted line. Most of the people had waited all day long for the opportunity to apply for a half dozen positions. Both Nando and I thought it was cruel because most of the people weren't qualified.

We took the bus to the old city and rode the Eiffel elevator from the lower city to the upper city. I've now climbed the Eiffel Tower in Paris and ridden the Eiffel elevators in both Lisbon and Salvador Bahia. I wonder what other marvels he has waiting for me! We walked around the upper city to the main shopping area.

It was Tuesday night and that meant there'd be free shows at the Oledum, near the Pelourinho. We walked from the shopping area, but along the way, it started to rain and Nando was afraid he'd catch the flu, so we waited under an awning for the rain to pass. Since the show was outside, we didn't miss anything. When we got there, we walked around the Oledum listening to the music and watching the people. We also listened to several samba bands. I swear I saw Paul Simon, if I did he is really short! We listened to the drummers, who had an unbelievable beat! I don't think I've honestly heard any sound as hot and rhymthic in all my life. At that moment, I honestly wished I could live in Brazil forever and I wondered why everybody couldn't have a sense of spirit and power like these people had!

My entire evening's entertainment -- for the round trip bus fair was a little short of $1. The tour operator wanted $115 for the same thing! After the show, we walked to the bus and went back to the hotel. Nando was very sweet; he wanted to make sure I got home safely. I joked that I could walk him to the bus so he could get home safely. My total expenses for the day were less than $22 and Nando is my kind of man -- frugal.

DOWNTOWN BAHIA AND A CRUISE TO AN ISLAND
Wednesday, February 23

Today was a long fun day. I spent 40 cents for a bus ride downtown. I went shopping and took several photos of the open markets. They were selling just about everything from food to plastic to clothes. I continued walking toward Pelourinho and took several pictures of All Saints Bay and Itaparica Island. I headed into the main square area and went shopping before visiting the San Francisco Church. It is supposed to have the most ornate interior of any church in all the Americas, but I guess I'm getting "churched-out" -- I've seen all the great cathedrals and this one wasn't especially exciting. It was small and dark. The first room was an ornate but small sanctuary. The second room was filled with maudlin statues of various saints in various stages of their deaths and I found it rather repulsive! I spent a few moments there before walking through the square where I noticed that many people were heading in a different direction -- toward a police station. Normally, I'd avoid the police, but I followed the crowd wondering where so many people were going in such a hurry. My joy was that they were heading toward the funicular that led to the lower city. Sometimes I don't follow the crowd and pay the price (like the time at Canterbury, when I didn't follow the crowd to the crypt and missed seeing Thomas Beckett's tomb). Anyway, this time I followed and was delighted that I did. I have always loved funiculars! I got on, spending just 3 cents each way. Since I seemed to have been the only non-native on the train, I noticed many people staring at me. I took it in my stride, however. I've been traveling too many years to let tiny annoyances get on my nerves!

The lower city was a little scary (like the guidebooks suggested). It was very dirty and crowded and I didn't wander around too far. I didn't feel too comfortable there, but I'm glad I took the funicular. I continued to walk around the city for a while but knew Nando was supposed to meet me at 2 PM so I headed back to the hotel. Nando showed up at 2 PM, we ate lunch and then went to the pier to meet his close friend, Werner. We took the ferry to the island and walked and walked for what seemed like miles in the heat. It was an interesting walk, however, because I got to see the village and the people and their dogs and cats. We ended up at the beach and sat at a small cafe sipping cokes. The beach was pretty, but I hadn't worn my bathing suit so I wasn't able to swim. Instead, we just sat and looked at the water and relaxed. It was nice, except I knew we'd have a long walk back to the ferry later that afternoon. The good news is that we got to the island for about $2; my tour company wanted $75 for the same thing. Nando and I got back to the hotel then went to a dinner buffet.

SALVADOR BAHIA AND A TRIP TO TAMAR
Thursday, February 14

In my horrible Portuguese, I hired a local cab for $40 to drive me the 30 miles to Praia do Forte. The driver didn't speak any English, but agreed to drive me there and spend 2 hours with me as I toured the park, observed the turtles, relaxed, swam and ate lunch. The agency wanted $240 for a similar private tour! God, I'm good at haggling, aren't I? On the way, my Portuguese speaking cab driver gave me a running commentary of the sights of Bahia. I understood about half of what he said. We went up the Coconut Highway past the Sapiranga reserve to the TAMAR project. TAMAR is the Brazilian sea turtle preservation project. I took several photos of the turtles. My guide stuck to me like glue. We sat in a cafe overlooking the beach and then I looked at the menu and laughed. The prices were outrageous, I said in my horrible Portuguese, $8 for a complete lunch. I looked at my guide and said, "Muy Caro, nao eh! (My goodness, it's very expensive, isn't it?)" At that moment, the driver became my lifelong friend. He knew the value of a dollar and he knew the café was a notorious tourist trap. Even though $8 wasn't expensive by American standards, we both knew I could purchase the same meal for about $1.50 almost anywhere else.

After several hours of enjoying the turtles and the view and the chance to unwind, I told my driver I was ready to head back to Bahia. On the way, I arranged for him to pick me up at 9 the next morning to drive me to the airport.

In the evening, Nando and I attended a capoeira (foot fighting) show. It also featured a machete dance, a stick and sword dance, samba, voodoo, and some hot drum playing. Dinner was a buffet, which wasn't half as good as the buffets we'd enjoyed in the past. Nando was delighted for two reasons, however. First, he sat across from an extremely attractive young man and second, everyone at the table spoke Italian, which gave Nando a chance to practice his 3rd language!

Dinner and the show cost $25 each; my tour company wanted $150 per person for the same thing. The van took us back to our hotel and Nando and I both said goodbye. We wrote letters to each other - it was Nando's idea. He's very romantic and had trouble saying goodbye. We talked about me coming to Bahia for Carnival next year. We could rent an apartment and I could spend a week or two in Bahia. I may take him up on his offer! The people and the place (and Nando) are all fantastic!

FLYING FROM SALVADOR BAHIA TO RIO
Friday, February 25

Today was an excruciating long day. My cabdriver was waiting for me when I left the hotel. I paid him $20 and we arrived at the airport in plenty of time sPhoto courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.ince there were no lines at the check-in counter. I sat in the cafe relaxing as I drank a coke and read a little. When I returned to the gate, I saw the check-in line spread out like a serpent from one end of the airport to the other. I was glad I'd decided to show up early. I hate long lines. My plane left on time, however, and I arrived in Rio without a hitch.

My hotel was right on Copacabana! And since I knew half the rooms had balconies, I asked for one the moment I arrived. The view of Copa was great from my balcony and I watched the guys playing volleyball and soccer. The area I'm staying in is called Bairro Peixoto, which is an art-deco district next to a square where people play chess. A new metro stop will be constructed here soon. I ate dinner at a small pizza restaurant just behind my restaurant. While I was eating 2 men got into a protracted verbal argument. By the time they finished, there were a half dozen policemen listening to them. No arrests were made, however. I think both of the men were drunk -- and I wonder what will happen during Carnival week when everyone is drunk.

BASKING IN THE SOUTHERN SUN
Saturday, February 26

I spent the first four hours of the day lying on the beach, loving every golden ray! I rented an umbrella and a chair and used my sun tan lotion, but didn't realize until it was too late that it was for people who'd already achieved their sun tan. I burned a little. I spent $2 for buffet lunch and when I returned to the hotel, Tico (pronounced Chico) was waiting for me. Tico has been my friend almost longer than anyone else has. We met in Rio in 1981 and I've seen him each of the 5 subsequent times I've visited. After a protracted talk, we ate dinner at a local restaurant.

COPACABANA AND PRAIRE DO FORTE
Sunday, February 27

Tico and I walked to the Praire do Forte at the other end of Copa -- it was a long hot walk -- but the street was closed to vehicles so it was very interesting walking down Atlantico Avenue, which is usually as busy as Constitution Avenue in Washington. Along the way, we looked at the open markets and watched the people.

The fort was spectacular! There's a great view of the beach and the fort, itself, is very impressive. We even crossed a wooden bridge to the rocky outcrop -- and of course, nothing was protected. It would have been so easy for anyone to slip and fall to his death; it's really unbelievable that the people haven't started some sort of safety network. The fort was built in 1908 and upgraded during each of the 2 World Wars. Right next to the fort is the Fishermen's Corner. Later, we walked along the beach.

A TRIP TO CHRISTO
Monday, February 28

Today I discovered that Tico didn't know Rio half as well as I did. Even though he was born less than 30 miles from the city, he'd only been there 5 times in his life (We initially met in his hometown on a tropical island south of Rio and he only came to Rio to visit me!). So, since my sense of direction was better, we took the Metro and a cab to Christo -- the statue of Christ that guards the city of Rio. We spent an hour at the top even though it was extraordinarily hot. The statue is being renovated and we had to wait for hard hats before ascending. It was amazing that the Brazilians didn't seem to care about safety anywhere else! I wondered why and joked to Tico that the Americans or Brits were probably restoring it since they were more safety conscious! (During my week in Rio, I told many jokes to Tico - using my limited Portuguese. Each time he understood. Whenever we had a problem communicating, he'd quiz me in Portuguese until he knew we understood each other.) The view was good, but I still think the view from Peak Victoria in Hong Kong is far better (later in my trip, when I went to Sugar Loaf, I realized it was also better than Christo). We took the funicular to the bottom and a cab to the Botofogo shopping center. After shopping until we dropped, we took the metro to the hotel.

RELAXING ON THE BEACH AT COPA
Tuesday, February 29

Tico rented an umbrella and 2 chairs and we found a nice spot on the beach about 30 feet from the breaking waves. I went swimming; Tico stayed on the beach, enjoying the sun. The feeling of the waves beating against my body was vigorous, to say the least. It almost felt as if the waves were giant baseball bats striking me as if I were a rubber ball. I burned worse today, still using the wrong sun tan lotion. I'm red, but nothing really hurts which is amazing! Usually when I burn, it hurts like hell. Perhaps I did something right after all. In the evening, we I enjoyed a Brazilian specialty: churisco, 2 huge steaks, sausage, rice, potatoes, and veggies for less than $3. It was enough food to feed a small nation and often makes me consider moving there. I think I could retire and live like a king in Brazil! So why do I live in the USA? That's the question.

Sugar Loaf Mountain
Wednesday, March 1

Tico wasn't able to spend the day with me, so rode the cable car to the top of Sugar Loaf, one of my favorite places in the world. On the top, I ate lunch as I sat for several hours admiring the view -- it is still terrific and almost as lovely as Victoria Peak. Unfortunately, I didn't realize there was a beautiful restaurant (with inexpensive food) just around the corner from me, otherwise I would have eaten there. Altogether, I spent about 2 hours on the 1st and 2nd levels admiring the great view! "Is it as nice as Hong Kong?" I kept asking myself that question over and over. I'm not 100% sure, but think Victoria is better since it has more activity! This is still one of the most fantastic views in the world, however.

Back in Copacabana, I sat on the beach and drank a coconut as I spent several hours watching the guys play volleyball. There's a Goodyear Blimp flying over Copa. I guess it's ready for Carnival. I see many ships entering the harbor. It's an unbelievably glorious sight!

In the evening, I ate at the Rondarella Restaurant right on Copacabana -- it was fantastic to sit outside watching the vendors as they plied their trade. When I got back to the hotel, I sat on the balcony writing while looking at the beach. It was all lit up and beautiful.

I wrote the following story as I sat on the balcony

Smell the salt as it sprays out of the sensuous South Atlantic. Feel the hot sand as it oozes through your sun-fried toes. Listen to the sound of the waves as they tumblebreakroar along the bone-white beaches.

Stretch your neck up high -- higher, raise it another five and three-eighths degrees until you see the beginnings of the middle of the mountains -- those macho Latino mountains that dwarf all but the mightiest Brobdingnagian. Look to Sugar Loaf on your right; see the cable car rising from the shore to the first lump of brown sugar. Watch the tiny people unglue themselves as they peal their way out of the tiny car and wander around the lower of the two peaks. Imagine them peering through telescopes as they smile back at you. Join them as they cram themselves inside a second cable car, rocking with their weight as the car blows gently in the wind and crawls slowly along its steel cable to the second peak.

Now turn left and hold your head up to the sky, squint as the sun shines so seductively. See the Statue of Christ towering above you. Watch the hang gliders as they float and drift aimlessly from the milk white cow shaped clouds to the distant shore. Smell the salt water as it blends with the aromas of fresh baked breads and barbecued beef. Taste the sweet mango, the zesty papaya, the erotic guava.

Smile at the barefoot boys who stroll up and down the beach, renting umbrellas, selling tea, carrying baskets filled with snacks. Watch the young men play a real game of volleyball -- not one of those namby-pamby sissy games you've seen your neighbors play. These are virile young guys lunging for the ball, falling, knees thrust deeply into the wet sand as they slap the ball over the net. Back it goes, over and over -- from side to side. It seems as if the action will never stop. The score is still six to six, six to six, six to six, six to six. Seven seems impossible for either team.

HEADING HOME
Thursday, March 2

I spent my final full day in Rio relaxing on the beach, and enjoying the southern sunshine, knowing that I'd soon be back home in Washington's winter. Tico and I spent our last moments together wondering if we'd ever see each other again. I met Tico nearly twenty years ago on my first trip to Rio and we've gotten together every time since then. This good bye, though, was the hardest. He's 40 now and restless and wants so much to improve himself. He's learned Spanish and is bright and intelligent and wants to have a better life (don't we all). He talks about visiting America, but is unable to obtain a visa. He is my friend. I am 56 and have no idea when I will see him again. Nine years have passed since our last meeting. Nine long years. I hope some day we will meet again.

Leaving Rio was madness with a capital M. It was rush hour and it took forever to get through town. The amazing thing was that there were 3 lane highways that became 4 and 5 lane highways as the cars pushed and shoved their ways in between each other. In addition, there were street merchants and vendors walking up and down the freeway selling cokes and tea while dozens of men picked up coke cans to sell to the recycling company. It was truly unbelievable. I arrived at the airport but the driver didn't know which terminal to drop me so we chose Terminal Number One. Of course, it was the wrong one so I had to find a trammy and push my 2 bags to Terminal Number Two, which was quite a distance away. There were several people movers along the way and that did help, however. When I reached the right terminal, I waited in a short line, only to find that I was in the wrong line, it was the ticketing line. I waited in line for about 45 minutes.

I had a lot of time on my hands and was a little hungry. The agent told me there were no restaurants in Terminal Two so I walked back to Terminal One and ate at a Turkish Fast Food Restaurant. I had a Turkish pizza and my last guarana (a Brazilian soft drink). I then headed back to Terminal Two. It was only 8 PM and the airport allowed smoking so it got a little hazy after a while. My plane left on time. I was exhausted, but had finally learned a sleeping trick. As soon as I got on board, I took two Benadryl and fell asleep almost immediately. I had asked the young man next to me to tell the stewardess not to wake me -- I didn't want dinner -- I just wanted to sleep. I slept well for hours, but was awakened by the nosy couple in front of me -- the wife turned on the light and started talking rather loudly to her husband. It woke me up, but at least I had had a decent night's sleep. Our plane arrived in Miami at 5:30 AM, after an 8 and a half-hour flight time. Everything went very well -- perhaps too well. I went sailing through immigration. I found a free trammy. My bag was one of the first off the carousel. I had no problem clearing customs. I even had time to eat a small snack while waiting for my connecting flight. Everything was good! Everything was too good. But like most situations where things are too good, things change rapidly. Just as I headed to my boarding area, the security people told everyone to clear the terminal. I left, along with 100s of others. We waited and waited and my flight, which was scheduled for an 8:00 departure was in limbo. At 8:05 we were allowed back inside, but the security people were not in position so it took another 15 minutes to get to the right gate. Luckily, United delayed the flight until 8:30. I arrived in Dulles at about 11 AM and was home within an hour!

My spirit lives in Brazil. I visit it from time to time. Someday, perhaps someday soon, the two will be reunited.

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