Sunday, 19 October 2014
Then I walked along the Ipanema and Copacobana beaches again. The day before yesterday when I walked along Copacobana beach (as well as today) I noticed a bronze statue of a man named Carlos Drummond de Andrade. I had no idea who he was and then I did some research and found out that he was a Brazilian poet who lived in Rio, and often visited this stretch of Copacobana. Maybe because tomorrow is a holiday, or maybe because today is Sunday, the beaches were crowded with people! For a person who doesn't like human beings and hates crowds, I think I have seen enough human beings to last me a life time. I just wanted to find a quiet corner to drink a beer.
But first I went to the tour agency, luckily they were open and I booked my tour for Tuesday to Petropolis. For tomorrow, they didn't have tours to Buzius but to another place called Angra. I was not particularly keen on this place, and then I found out that both Buzius and Angra are basically beach-y places, we travel about 3 hours by van, then get on a boat which will take us around the area and stop at 3 places to swim and play by the beach. Not really my thing. I am discovering very quickly that I am not a beach person at all. Which is really weird considering I grew up practically beside the beach in Kuantan. Perhaps because of that I am not a beach person. I have access to a beach anytime, I just have to go home.
They also did a tour to the Tijuca forest, where we walk through the forest along jungle trails. That appealed more to me than the beach trip so I booked this tour instead. It's funny how I can never get tired of jungles. For me, there are more things for me to see and explore in a jungle than at a beach. Unless you go swimming in the sea (which I don't because I can't swim) there is really very little that one can do by the beach.
After that I had nothing to do so I stopped at a nearby bar and ordered a beer and what I thought was a sandwich. It was not. It was a piece of chicken filet, feijoada (rice with black beans and bits of pork, a staple local food), salad and French fries. Way too much food. Instead of figuring out the menu in Portuguese, perhaps it is best that I ask after all, although communication is a real problem here.
But the walk back to the favela sorted me out. Still full, but I can feel the food digesting away.
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