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29th May (Thurs): After a refreshing 3 hours sleep, I staggered down to the South American Express office with a lightened pack to catch the tour bus which passes Isle Grande (holiday isle), Paraty (colonial town), PonteAlta Fazenda (ex coffee farm), Serra dos Orgaos National park (in the hills), Petropolis (inland ex Royal family town), Buzios (holiday resort), Macae (oilfield) and Niteroi (old Rio across the bay from Rio). I discovered that I was the only passenger on the bus.. talk about being treated like royalty. The fluently english speaking guide was a font of knowledge, but unfortunately like learning Portuguese in Rio from scratch, it was like drinking from a fire hydrant - too much info. I was somewhat surprised that I was treated to a free Favela (shanty town) tour, which I really wasn't prepared for.. however I managed to persuade the Favela guide to show me to his favourite Acai shop where I was somewhat revitalised and able to pay attention to the winding alleys, cobweb like electrical cables and interesting odours of the area. In 1990, Rio's mayor made a big effort to integrate the Favelas into Rio city and now they have schools, churches, supermarkets, even police stations. In fact, I believe that life would not be as harsh for someone in the Favelas as in the country. A famous Cariocan (Rio person) chef always buys his ingredients from the Favelan markets.. even my guides stocked up on foods when they went. We went onwards down the Costa Verda (Atlantic forest to the coast) through an area reminicent of a Brasilian riviera - multitudinous islands, chalets, condominiums and speed-boats - to Angra dos Reis, the port where the ferry leaves for the 1.5 hour trip to Isle Grande. As the bus door opened, the eager faces I had been warned about thrust their heads inside wanting to carry my bag to the end of the pier.. these guys were worse than the callous throated blokes patrolling Rio beaches crying 'water, beer, sunscreen'. Finally making it to Isle Grande through an island studded panorama and evading eye contact with the police on the pier who thouroughly searched some people I would meet later, I found myself in Abrao, the main town on the island. As it had been over a day since I was in the water, a swim was in order (after sussing out where the likely sewage outlets were on the main beach).. I didn't even make it to the water before running into Eric and Marcel, two whacky Canadians I met in the Copacabana Hostel. After much swearing and raised eyebrows, we arranged to hook up for a beer later and I kept moving.. only to run into a couple of pasty looking Engish girls (Anna and Jen) also from the Hostel.. sheesh. So the night was not quiet.. as it turned out there were at least 9 people from the Hostel there. There is only one place to party at a time on the island, so we were treated to Capoiera, live music in the street and Foho dancing (Brasilian salsa). The owner of the Hostel Marcos and a guy from the US Simeon, both fluent in Portuguese, made the night more interesting than a night in a Youth Hostel... The bars closed early in Abrao as it was a public holiday, so I took a gamble on the 'beach party' and piled onto a listing boat to an unknown destination with other backpackers. The party wasn't exactly bonfires and DJs, just more Foho dancing in a bar in one of the other bays.. you can imagine the trip back at 4 in the morning.. in fact I wasn't even on the same boat and somehow soaking wet.
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