Brazil: Rio de Janiero - Ilha Grande - Paraty - São Paulo - Florianopolis - Foz do Iguazu
I arrived in Rio with a degree of trepidation about the city, its reputation for being dangerous and our trip as a whole. As someone who usually organises every aspect of their life, I was daunted by the prospect of 5 1/2 months ahead with nothing more planned than a outline of which countries I’d like to visit and a flight home from Columbia booked for mid-August.
Turns out things weren’t as scary as they first seemed - they usually aren’t. We were still part of the civilised world. People spoke English, and when they didn’t we attempted Portuguese and when that failed we communicated in the universal language of hand gestures and finger pointing.
I thought I wouldn’t be able have my protein shakes. But I soon discovered they are pretty into health and fitness in Brazil too - those hot Brazilian bods aren’t built from cachaca alone you know! People jog up and down the beach in Rio, sweaty abs on full display and practice pull ups and dips on the metal structures dotted along the beachfront. In São Paulo I discovered an outdoor gym in Parque da Luz where the weights are made out of concrete blocks.
We drank caipirinhas at beach side bars. Lots of caipirinhas. Then we decided to buy cachaca and make our own caipirinhas at home. Cue an early night in bed brought on by peaking far too early. We also drank a lot of beer. After slogging up the hill to the favela in Leme nothing quenched my thirst quicker than gulping down a bottle of ice cold beer the moment we reached the hostel.
I ate pão de queijo and drank iced mate com limão every day. I consumed endless pots of frozen acai, granola and banana. We visited a churrascaria and ate until our stomachs were full to the brim with various cuts of beef, pork and chicken.
By the far the best restaurants we discovered were the ‘per Kg’ establishments which are essentially a buffet with various salads, vegetables and meats. You take as much as you like and pay depending on how much your plate weighs which is great if not a little expensive if you like to eat a lot like me.
The best thing so far is that the days don’t matter. Sunday rolls into Monday, which drifts into Tuesday. At some point Sunday comes round again. But the days don’t hold the emotion that they do at home. Sunday was always ‘psyche myself up and food prep for the week’ day, Tuesday was my least favourite day of the week - already shattered from Monday and in disbelief that there were another 3 days of 5:50am wake ups yet to come. Saturday, the best day - a lie in and leg day!
In the past 3 weeks I have practiced yoga once and done two resistance workouts. Which is fine. Just getting from place to place here takes up a huge amount of energy. The ten minute run along the beach I did as a warm up before one of my workouts had me gasping for air like at the end of a gruelling 10k run at home.
Despite consuming more processed food, sugary drinks and alcohol in the past 3 weeks than in the past 6 months at home my beloved Abercrombie & Fitch shorts are falling off me. But I’m most likely losing muscle mass as well. The last couple of days I’ve had a sore throat and been sneezing which I’ve been blaming on the air con in the hostel room but it’s most likely down to the lifestyle I’ve been living the last couple of weeks.
Tomorrow my Spanish course in Buenos Aires begins; after the last couple of weeks trying to speak Portuguese my Spanish skills feel a little rusty. Hopefully I’ll be able to string a sentence or two together tomorrow!
