Having been in South America for nearly a month now with complaints of no photographic evidence,
I decided on this rainy day to get on with letting you know what our last 23 Days have been about…
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After a long journey; Heathrow-Miami with a five hour stop over, which at the time we were not grateful for until Steph got stuck in imigration for three and half of these hours.
Meanwhile I´m sitting in baggage reclaim with two huge rucksacks not having a clue what happened as Steph was just
behind me in the queue. Speaking to anyone in the airport didnt help, they just said I had to wait and see if she turns up.
Finally she turns up and we head through to the closest bar before boarding our final flight to Rio de Janeiro.
We arrived at Rio International Airport, and decided to get a local bus to Santa Teresa, to our first hostel.
Got the right bus only we didn´t know when to get off the bus, hazarding a guess at the area with maps we were given we
tried to get off the bus but with no bell button or knowledge of any Portugese we sat and waited until the bus stopped
next, deciding to get into the closest taxi to save time and embarassment.
Arriving at Rio Hostel who had recently changed their name to Books Hostel, we decided to put down our stuff and get the first bus down to Copacabana Beach. Again we tried our hand at the bus, which was easier this time as all roads lead the same way, a couple hours of sunbathing and walking around we try to get a bus back to our hostel. Bus stops were labelled 1, 2 and 3, we didn´t know which one we were meant to goto so had a look at all to see if we recognised the numbers on them.
Failing to do so we try and speak to somebody working taking down times buses arrived.
Managing to explain we wanted to get to Santa Teresa the lady directed us to a bus at another stop.
On this bus we go past places we recognise, or that I claimed to recognise to be near where we got on in the morning.
Now the next version of events differs to who you spoke to, I say Steph told us to get off the bus as I had recognised the area we were going through and thought it was near, Steph on the other hand is saying that I said to get off the bus, either way this is what happened.
Walking around this town and what seems to be a favela on the outskirts we kept circling looking for anything else we
recognised, looking at bus numbers and names of towns on the front of them to give us any kind of clue if we were near.
Temporarily give up and go and sit in Macdonalds trying to order chicken nuggets and see if we could connect to wifi to
find out our hostel´s address; again failing miserably we decide we got off the bus too soon and decide to walk the bus
route.
Walking for a good half hour 40 minutes we arrive at a bus station at the top of this hill we have walked, the only
direction to go is back down or further on up the mountain that must have had an incline of a treadmill on a gym of 10. Again speaking no Portugese trying to get by with a little bit of Spanish asking “donde esta Santa Teresa”, they signal over the mountain, and that no bus goes over there. Having no money left to get a bus back to town and start again or to get a taxi,
of which we dont have the address to our hostel decide to start walking up the hill.
Reaching some kind of end to the road turning either into a motorway or going under the fly-over to what seems to be a
gang/prostitute hangout, attempting to flag down a taxi and decide we can pay when or if we ever get back to the hostel
failed as even taxi´s wouldn´t take us that way as it was over the mountain. I text Aimee asking to google the address
of Rio Hostel in Santa Teresa as last resort.
We then stop and ask a woman walking with her son directions, feeling a little bit safer that they are walking the same direction.
She spoke English and told us we can walk, although its far and bit dangerous but we can walk it.
Our only option is to walk it so we head on up the steepest roads i have ever seen with the road and pavement practically infront of our faces.
By this time its dark and we are tired with our bottle of water running out, we come across a woman who speaks again spoke English and confirmed we are going the right way but thought we are crazy and wished us luck. We reach the top of the residential roads to go along an even scarier road that one bus goes along andhas no sides to the road, just jungle and darkness.
We carry on down this half lit road for another hour or so until we come across a Police Hut, where we ask the guy
where this address is, he radio´s someone and we have a glimmer of hope he is getting someone to drop us there. Instead they laugh down the radio and he fills up our water bottle for our next journey. We decide to try a flag down the next taxi we see and make us take us home, we are now starting to walk down the other side and look out to what was the best view we saw for the whole of Brazil.
Having flagged down a taxi we jump in relieved that we will get back to our hostel finally after being out for nearly 12 hours, but it didn´t end there. The taxi struggles to find the location asking people where this number is, we don´r recognise where we are and then it hits us that the address Aimee sent will be for Rio Hostel, and our hostel has now changed names to Books Hostel.
After getting Aimee to log in to my email and get the correct address we set out again in the taxi.
We managed to get there in the end, only to run in grab some money pay the taxi driver and head to the nearest bar.
We slept well that night!
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