The boys from Brazil
Jeremy Atiyah went looking for trouble
in big bad Rio - but, from the run-down favelas to a fearsome football match,
he was shown nothing but respect
"Passengers for the marvellous
city please embark now," came the announcement in Portuguese. La cidade
maravilhosa. This was the Rio
hype - before I was even out of Heathrow.
But apart from being a fun place to fly
down to, what was Rio
all about? From what I could see, it was not a promising mix. Take one large
crowded city - say Barcelona Manhattan Rio .
I had images of plundering street-
children, rampaging down from the favelas , while teeming masses of bitter
latinos looked on in pleasure as the gringo suffered in the heat. Weren't
cities like this just too evil for straight tourism?
In fact, on my first glimpse of the
city, around the Lagoa area, I was surprised to see so many American tourists -
until these turned out to be locals, jogging round the lagoon with ponytails swinging
behind baseball caps. Cyclists kitted out with ear-phones cruised the broad
cycle lanes; a wrinkled old couple in bathing costumes strolled the pavement.
I was heading for the south of the
city, where sunny Copacabana blended into exclusive Ipanema. But outside banal
pop songs, all I knew of these places was their reputation for thievery and
drug-related shootings. "Agh, I'm 90 per cent sure you won't get
hurt," said my taxi driver dismissively. So I had a 10 per cent chance of
being mugged?
So I hoped. In fact, inland from the
beach, Copacabana was cheerfully packed with block after block of residential
high-rises and shopping streets, a Latin Hong Kong jamming the tiny space
between the beach and the solid rock cliffs.
Despite the stale wet smell of
thousands of air-conditioners dripping into the street, the weather wasn't even
hot. At this time of year there was a suggestion of autumn, with fresh dewy
mornings and trees shedding leaves on the pavements.
Beachwear drifted in from the beach. I
saw a woman at a bus stop wearing a top that comprised two circles of cloth
pasted over her nipples. As for the huge wide open beach
of Copacabana
While gesticulating men in swimming
costumes used the beach telephones, local schoolgirls were engaged in a sandy
football tournament, diving in the box and rolling around in pain whenever they
were touched. A crowd of stocky young Juninhos sat earnestly on the sand
sucking on straws from green coconuts.
That was Copacabana. Around the corner
in Ipanema, where locals and tourists merge into one homogenously healthy mass,
the tone was more like St Tropez. I was told that Ipanema apartment blocks have
pistol-toting security guards to keep ruffians at bay. At night there were
busy, expensive outdoor restaurants on the sidewalks serving up gigantic steaks
to beautiful people.
It's when you turn into an empty street
and notice the tell-tale chaotic lighting of a favela crawling up a dark
hillside that you're glad you aren't wearing your Rolex. Not that I would have
been afraid. The only people to bother me were two kids who dropped a splodge
of glue on my shoe then offered to wipe it off. I was almost tempted to hand
over my wallet on compassionate grounds.
In Rio ,
the districts are separated by mountains so sheer and sudden that only this
century have they been connected by tunnels. From offshore, forested hills decorate
Rio like a Chinese
water-colour.
One of the most famous of Rio 's
hills is Sugarloaf Mountain ,
whose smooth dome looks like a cross between papal headwear and a vertical blue
whale. You can climb up for views over Rio 's
weird mountain topography if you don't mind riding the same cable car where
Jaws bit the cable in the Bond film Moonraker.
Personally I wanted something more evil
than Jaws. In search of Rio 's
darker side, I took a tour of a favela one morning myself, at Rocinha, the
largest and oldest of them all. Not wishing to be mistaken for a CIA
drugs investigator, I contracted a well-known local guide called Fernando for
the occasion.
Fernando kept telling me how the people
of the favelas were actually the best-behaved people in Rio .
"They are good, religious, family-oriented people," he barked, in a
strong American accent. "If anyone robs a tourist in here, that'll bring
the cops in, and if the cops come in that'll stop people buying drugs. If you
cause that to happen, hell. You'll be killed."
The favela's markets are dominated by
the outlandish atmosphere of north- eastern Brazil
Architecturally, the favela is what you
would expect if hundreds of thousands of people were told to build their own
homes on a mountainside very quickly. Tiny cement paths of mediaeval dimensions
lead up impossibly steep slopes between overhanging buildings of scruffy
breezeblocks, while odd terraces project at crazy angles.
Evil it is not though. For the record,
it's clean and has fantastic views of jungle, rock and blue sea far below. In
fact, it's almost nice. The inhabitants of the favela are friendly, normal,
well-dressed people. Even numbered regular buses come up here from town now.
Perhaps one day the rest of the city will blend into this area and nobody will
know the difference.
On that hopeful note I set off back
into town, looking for trouble. How about a football match at the Maracana
Stadium between local teams Flamengo and Botofogo?
That evening I set out in search of
football thrills. The way to the stadium was promisingly seedy. The town bus
passed peeling baroque mansions, crowded squares, and dark avenues paraded by
prostitutes baring their breasts.
Arriving at nightfall I saw mounted
police surrounded by smoke from grilling meat. The Maracana is one of those
legendary South American stadia where they throw bombs and shoot the referees.
It is also the largest football stadium in the world, where 200,000 South
Americans saw Brazil Uruguay
The atmosphere this evening seemed
surprisingly tame though. Some girls in boob-tubes looked as if they had just
escaped from Copacabana Beach
It was not to be. Vinnie promptly
bumped into some large friends. He turned apologetically. "I'm
sorry," he began. "You won't be able to come with us. Otherwise these
gentlemen will have to beat you up. You are wearing Flamengo colours".
In my incriminatory red T-shirt and
black jeans I decided to head for the Flamengo end. Alone, I broke through the
police cordon and marched up an endless concrete walkway to the sky, into the
Maracana's hollow sub-skeleton which stank of piss. Animal-like noises
screeched around me in the dark. I felt scared.
It was misplaced fear. The football
itself was of abominable quality but diversion was provided by the loud
firecrackers and the constant police chases through the terraces (in pursuit of
illegal drink-sellers).
I was politely ignored.
The next day, my last, desperate for
some villainy, I headed downtown on local buses in search of urban hell. Bleak,
windswept squares, with bonfires burning on street corners and kids running
between the shadows? All I saw was a bus full of 12-year-old boys snogging
11-year-old girls.
I took the ancient tram up the hill to
the bohemian quarter of Santa Teresa. One creaky carriage, nearly 100 years
old, still does the run over the white viaduct that arches through the
crumbling rooves of Largo de Lapa. Angelic favela boys hung on to the outside
of the train, eyeing my pockets as they swung between lamp-posts. None of them
mugged me.
Flights
A return flight on British Airways
(Reservations: 0345 222111) from London Gatwick to Rio de
Janeiro currently costs pounds 539 plus tax, if booked by the end of May for
departures before end of June.
Packages
A week's package to Rio with Journey
Latin America (0181 7478315), including return BA flights, six nights in a
three- star hotel in Copacabana and some excursions, costs from pounds 818. JLA
also run extended escorted tours of Brazil Rio .
Favela tours, lasting half a day, can
be arranged through any hotel for about US$50 (regardless of numbers). Football
tours, on match days, are also available.
Visas
Visas are not required by British
citizens.
The Lonely Planet guide to Brazil Brazil
The author travelled as a guest of
Journey Latin America and British Airways.
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