A thought, just before we go.

Last days, slowly rolling by, mind and body unwilling to move, waiting for the inevitable. All roads lead back home.

Trying to think back, to put it all in little memory boxes, and store them in my mind forever. I'm rubbish at remembering specific events, and instead I remember blurry feelings, remember feeling good at the side of the road in Argentina waiting for someone to pick us up, it felt good next to that river, next to the train tracks, in our friends' house. It also felt sad, lonely, and confusing quite often. It was confusing watching the world go by in Bolivia, trying to understand why the world is the way it is, how much is each and everyone's fault, trying to not feel guilty, to make myself feel more guilty, to just try and enjoy it. Trying to feel less like a tourist, and also less like a ponce who likes the word "traveler" too much.

Wow.

I hate goodbyes.

Colombianadas

Ver mapa más grande

We left Cusco, to head to the coast of Peru, the capital, Lima. Lima is a weird mix of London and Nicosia, but not necessarily in any of the good ways. Massively westernised, a McDonald's at about every five steps, but completely and utterly unorganised, with one of the worst public transport systems of South America. Lima is built on a desert, next to the Pacific ocean. Although you wouldn't be able to tell it's a desert if you just saw the center, it's given away when you enter the city by bus, where you witness the hundreds upon thousands of people living in ramshackle houses, much like, if not worse than, the famous brasilian favelas. The contrast of extreme riches and extreme poverty is shocking, although it's intensified by the fact that the rich areas are straight out of hollywood hell. To be short, I didn't much enjoy Lima, I got strange urges of constantly wanting to consume starbucks coffees and Big macs and to buy buy buy. The fancy shops and many Starbucks and crouded streets, made it very hard to feel in any way at peace with the place, and I wanted to get out fast.

Northern coastal Peru is still pretty much all desert, but the towns are smaller and usually more pleasent. Trujillo was a nice suprise, with a pretty colonial center, and a much more "Peruvian" rather than Californian vibe to it, although all in all, Peru was not what I expected, especially after a month in Bolivia. Apart from Cusco that is, which despite being very touristy, still has a more genuine feel to it. Without meaning to sound like a dick.

After that straight into Ecuador and its capital Quito, which is rightfully a UNESCO world heritage sight, with one of the best perserved historical centers in South America. It's a shame we didn't have enough time to see Ecuador, since while crossing most of it in a day by bus, it seemed charming. And hot, very hot.

After a few days in Quito we headed into Colombia. The last stop in my trip, I've been told by many that Colombia is great, and so far, yes it is. The people are so friendly it's sometimes creepy (but in a good way), and so far the scenery is lush. There's constant rumba, salsa and cumbia in the air, and there's a vibe of good times ahead. Popayan in the south was our first stop, a good choice, as it's a lovely little sunny university town, with friendly people lazing around on sunny hilltops. From there we went to the desert of Tatacoa, where we went to an astronomical observatory for a bit of stargazing. Getting there and back was a mission and a half, although highly worth it, just for the experience, and for the many colombianadas we witnessed. A colombianada is something extremely kitch and colombian, just type colombianadas into youtube and you'll see what I mean. They are something I, and I believe most cypriots, can highly relate to, as Cyprus is pretty strong in the area of Colombianadas. Although of course there they have to be called Cypriotadas. On the way to the desert of Tatacoa we sat at the back of an open truck, with great views of the countryside, and a friendly Colombian telling us about recent political happenings. On the way back our truck broke down, and the driver had to tie it to another truck, which pulled us up the hill, while the sun was setting. The driver then untied our truck and said "don't worry, it's all downhill from now". Great. Slight note: the lights didn'twork, which meant we were rolling down the hill in pitch black, a cliff on one side, the driver with his head sticking out of the window, and the woman sitting at the front constantly crossing herself, in the name of Jesus Christ, hoping beyond hope that we wouldn't all die. I was in the back playing pirates with a cute 5 year old colombian girl, with way too much energy. At the back of a truck, a man with half his teeth in place, silently moved in and out of the picture. Of course the other problem was that it wasn't all downhill, so we kept getting stuck, and having to wait for a car or truck to drive past to tug us again. Colombianadas! When we finally made it back to Popayan we all felt like survivors of a shipreck or something, and it was sad to say goodbye.

We're now in Cali, the city of constant rumba. After spending the day just outside town next to a the river Pance, we're now back at Javi's friend's house, with a beer and some good movies downloading. Sometimes one misses ones' creature comforts.

Two weeks left now.

The walking trees of Bolivia and Peru.

In the jungles of Bolivia and Peru, there are trees that walk.

They move 4-5 times a year, creating new roots in the direction in which they want to move, while their old roots, the ones they don't need anymore, rot. They're constantly searching for a spot in the sun, or as our jungle guide poeticaly put it "they're constantly looking for freedom."


Ver mapa más grande

Bolivia is a mix of contradictions. Extreme poverty, but amazing riches. Some of the most beautiful landscapes can be found in Bolivia, and some of the saddest stories as well. The people work hard, keep their head down,  treck unimaginable distances carrying tree trunks on their backs. Bolivian people have a reputation of being unfriendly, but who can blame them? "Child care" are two words which do not exist yet. Cholitas, Bolivian women in traditional dress, carry their babies on their backs, while they get on with the daily chores. Women are the true motor force of Bolivia. They do everything, and I'm not just talking child bearing and household chores. They work the fields, construction sites, the markets, they can be seen literally in the middle of nowhere carrying things from one place to another. Always carrying things. I think maybe they carry the world on their backs, looking for their spot in the sun.

Some of Bolivia,

Salar de Uyuni

The bolivians who live in or near the jungle are a whole other story. They contrast vividly with the hard working altiplano people (the altiplano is a high plateau, with heights of over 3000m). They sit around drinking beer most of the day, or driving around on bikes, and are much friendlier. They also reject the bolivian reputation of unfriendliness, while raising their glass and saying "with all respect brother". I guess that's just a normal side effect of an easier life, or maybe it's just that warmer climates make people happier, even if they haven't got much...

Peru is more developed, although probably more so in Lima, due to the rich elite that live in the capital (along with the many poor who live around it), and in Cusco and the surrounding areas, mostly due to the hoards of tourists that flock in to visit Machu Picchu . There's no blaming them (myself included), as Machu Picchu is one of the most amazing sites I've ever seen. Never discovered by the spanish conquistadors, it retains it's original beauty, a true look into the past and to the Inca civilisation. After a two day treck, camping in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by fireflies, stars and dark mountains, a 1 and a half hour climb up 400m at 5am to reach the lost city, our eyes are rewarded with the view of one of the seven wonders of the world. By 11am there are so many tourists it's hard to move around.

Machu Picchu

Handstands around the world highlight

We are back in Cusco again, enjoying the city and getting ready to move on north. Next stop, Lima and then north Peru. Just over a month of south america left. Goodbye is going to be hard.

Ramblings from Bolivia

Crossing borders, saying goodbye's, hello's, where are you from, what's your life like. Getting on trucks, getting off trucks, getting stuck in little villages between mountains and rivers. Seeing the Atlantic ocean, finally reaching the Pacific, waving at it and heading up the Andes.

We've travelled from south to north Chile, gone back into Argentina through Mendoza, travelled north, finally ended up in Bolivia.
We've met more amazing people than we can count, had to say "hasta la proxima" more times than we would like, and have always wanted it to be true.

Santiago, capital of Chile, is a lovely city, huge, cosmopolitan, poluted, lovely. We were lucky to meet probably some of the nicest people on either side of the Atlantic, Stephi and Gustavo, together with the most beautiful little thing you've ever seen, Amelia Leonor, their 11month daughter. We were taken into their home, watched the view from the 30th floor, ate sopaipilla, shared stories, most of all learned about this strip thin country, carrying mountains and volcanoes on its back.

No matter where you go, you find amazing people, though this seems obvious, it isn't. Chileans, argentinians, paraguayans, brazilians, students, truckers, mothers, daughters.

We've slept in houses with girls with blue hair, listened to Franky play the violin, watched Tango and found Flamenco on the other side of the ocean.

The truck driver's life is hard. They have to spend days, weeks, sometimes months away from their house, perhaps passing by the city they live in, without being able to stop and say hello to their wife and kids. Countless stories. Desires of travelling the world "but here it's hard to make a buck" and here I am, 23 years old, and asking them for a free ride. I try to supress the thought, enjoy it while you can, accept that life works different if you're born in a different place. It doesn't really though.

On the way up north to Bolivia, we stop of to have some dinner. Javi goes outside for a cigarette. I go out to join him and he says "I think these girls are ...you know....." I look round, there's three girls, probably around the age of 13, laughing. "Ofcourse they're not prostitutes! They're too young, look at them!". Cefe comes out, the truck driver that's giving us a lift up north, and without having heard any of our conversation, looks at the girls and says "Sad isn't it?". After the shock wears off, I find myself wondering at my own naiveness; what a minute ago seemed impossible, suddenly becomes obvious. I have a strong urge to shout at them "go home!" I'm angry, although I'm not sure whether it's at the girls, the men (mostly truckers), myself, or just life. Cefe said "tomorrow they'll buy themselves some new shoes or something..."

The border crossing into Bolivia was bad. Probably my lowest point, ironically, on the highest altitude we've been on so far. Altitude sickness, migraine, 4 days of sleeping on trucks, not showering, not much eating, plus the bizarest little town I've ever set eyes on. 4000m above sea level, it's in the middle of nowhere, on top of the world, dusty and confusing. I'm trying to take it all in, but my head is spinning. Everyone smells of coca leaves "chew some, you'll feel better" Javi says. I look at him with an expression that indicates clearly that I do not want to ingest anything, especially not coca leaves (we've spent the last 12 hours in a truck with Daniel, who has kept himself awake for about 48 hours by coqueando, chewing the coca leaves, and the smell, the spitting and the drooling-your mouth goes numb- is the last thing I want right now)

I panic, we go to a farmacy, I buy some pills. The farmacist says I should probably go to the hospital. I'm convinced I'm dying. Javi looks around at the town we're in, and tries to make me see reason, that going to the hospital here is not the best idea, that we should cross the border and make our way to lower altitudes. Finaly I'm convinced. At the border I get rejected, told I need a visa to cross. I've been sobbing for a while now, the pain in my head growing, although the dizzines and confusion are slowly diminishing. They're being replaced however with a strong urge to vomit (don't know what as I hadn't eaten anything all day.)
To cut the drama short, I take some more painkillers, make my way to the consulate, get the visa. We cross the border, get on a bus, and make our way to Tupiza "a favourite on the gringo trail". We've finaly slept in a bed, had some proper food, and have a plan.

After entering Bolivia and witnessing the amazingness that is the traditional andean outfit, I've decided that I'm going to adopt the style, long black plaits and bowler hat.

Un Piltriquitron y un Volcan

After heading down to Bariloche, at the top of Patagonia, we headed further south to Bolson. Known as the hippiest city in Argentina, El Bolson is a charming little town, with an almost daily crafts' market, set between a river and a 2500m mountain, the tongue twisting Piltriquitron.

Piltriquitron from the main square of El Bolson

There we enjoyed the chilled out vibe, while camping in a campsite just outside town, where some of our fellow campers included, chickens, a mama and papa pig and their baby piglets, some horses, two dogs and a kitten.



The first night we were there, we realised we were extremely under equiped for the cold patagonian night time, and had a pretty rough and sleepless night, during which I repeatedly dreamt (might have been visions I'm not quite sure) that Ryan Gosling showed up with a blanket. We managed to arm ourselves with a couple of quilts for the second night, not before agreeing that if we were to go any further south we would require some heavy winter clothes, which we weren't really prepared to pay for; hence the decision to head back up north. But not before going on a hike up mount Piltriquitron. After hiking up to about 1500m, we stayed at the refuge for the night, where we managed to catch an amazing sunset. The next day we made our way further up, where we got some more amazing views of the valley bellow and the surrounding Andes. Then, a 5 hour walk back down the mountain, left us with cramps that lasted all the way into Chile. It was sad saying goodbye to Argentina, but we're comforted by the thought that we will be making our way back there further up north, plus Chile's charms are not to be underestimated.

The refuge

Our first stop in Chile was the student town of Valdivia, which, along with its many chilean students, is populated by fat, terrifying yet kinda cute sea-lions, that laze around the city's river. Although there's nothing extremely remarkable about Valdivia, it was a nice start to the chilean part of the trip, and what made it trully memorable was the discovery of a second hand clothes store, where absolute gems from the 80's and 90's were being sold for 80 cents.

Me and some sea lions

We are now in the small town of Pucon, which is quite touristy due to it's positioning next to a pretty lake, and one of the world's 10 most active volcanos. Tomorrow we will be hiking the ice covered volcano, and hope to live to tell the tale!

No llores por mí, Argentina

Ver mapa más grande


Ay Argentina... How can I even begin to describe the beauty that is Argentina?

We crossed the border from Paraguay into Posadas, Argentina, on the 5th of March, exactly two weeks ago. Immediately the scenery changes- roads are properly paved, buses haven't been around since the 60's, the people suddenly seem a lot more familiar. There is an extremely European feel in Argentina, and you don't have to get all the way to Buenos Aires to notice it.

After an unsuccesful attempt at hitching a ride down south, we decided to save ourselves the hassle, and get an overnight bus to Buenos Aires.

Buenos Aires, or Baires as the porteños (people from Buenos Aires) often call it, is an absolutely stunning city. It's center is infested with old colonial buildings, and it reeks of history and culture. A mixture of Barcelona, Madrid and Paris, it's got enough to keep you walking around for days. After spending a night at a hostel, we managed to get in touch with Braian on couchsurfing, and so we stayed at his house for the next 4 nights. Braian lives near the centre with his flatmate Santi. They were extremely friendly and welcoming, and Santi even gave up his room for us! In Buenos Aires, we spent most of our time walking around, simply trying to take in as much as we could. We visited the historic centre, the more rustic barrio de la Boca, the Recoleta cementery, where Evita's remains lay, had an eventful night out where we attempted to go into a kind of house party where there was a cumbia band playing, failed, and ended up talking to some young Americans on an exchange program, of which most were lovely, but of which one said "And why are poor people poor? Because they just sit on their asses smoking crack all day!" Ahhh...

We then met up with Lucia, a most lovely specimen of a person, artist, musician, political activist and for a couple of days my math student. With her, we went to La Plata, a student town, most famous for it's thriving art faculty. There, we stayed at Nico's house, were we drank wine until the early hours of the morning, and during which I tried to transmit the beauty of greek music to the argentinians. After La Plata we returned to Buenos Aires, where we spent three lovely days in Lucia's house, lazying around and making bracelets. We have big plans for our bracelets. We also visited Tigre, just to the north, where the river Rio de la Plata spills into the Atlantic ocean, creating myriads of little islands at the mouth of the river, where people live by rowing into town every day, or catching small ferries/boats.

We had planned to go into Uruguay from BA, but were convinced that we could not leave Argentina without first visiting the marvelous south. So, here we are, in Patagonia, where the temperature drops suddenly to a fresh 15 degrees, discovering another face of Argentina.

To get here we took a train, and then hitched a ride with Señor Ruben Franco, known to his friends as simply, Franco. We spent two long calm days with Franco in his truck, covering a distance of 964km, and being flooded with information about the lands through which we were passing. We passed through dinosaur land, where some of the oldest remains have been found, passed about 4 hydroelectric plants, the finger of god, 70km long lakes, but mainly, kilometre upon kilometre of patagonian step.

Argentina is mate, people who stop in their tracks to ask you if you need help when you're looking at your map, people who open up their door to you and offer you their food. Argentina is riches, culturally, historically, geographically. The most simpleton looking truck driver will astound you with his knowledge of geography, history and politics, and the artists of the country are unsatisfied youth who also study music and who are able to fill you in, in detail, on all the political happenings in the last 30 years. Argentina is it's people, it's confounding mix of Italian and Spanish culture, mixed with the indigenous people of the south, the Mapuche, and years of indipendece, yet cruel dictaroships. It is everyone always complaining about how bad the government is, and how unsafe Argentina can be, problems unseen to the eyes of the outsider, who can only see that, more than anything, Argentina is absolutely beautiful. It may lack the loud beauty of its tropical neighbours, but gains in so many other ways. By far my favourite South American country so far.

We've travelled so far to San Carlos de Bariloche, and plan on going down to el Bolsón, where we have been promised hippielandia. After, perhaps the south pole?

the curse of the foreigner

I will never be from here. No matter where 'here' is. If it's not Cyprus, it will never be where I'm from. It's the curse of the foreigner. And what's more, of a foreigner whose language isn't spoken. I will always be half a person, no matter where I go, just because I am Cypriot. The songs that changed my life,

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lwQ0YQko0HQ

that inspired me, that made me who I am,

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQMsT4lNG2g

who I am today. I am from all the places, England, Cyprus and Spain, of all the people who formed me. But the people that form you, that mean the most to you, will never trully know who you are, unless they know where you are from. They will always forget, or just not know. That's the curse of the foreigner, the curse of the cypriot. To be damned to his own people. His people, who will never understand him, her.

Que guay, el Paraguay

So, as I was saying, we arrived in Foz de Iguacu, the town just next to the Iguacu falls. The falls are split between three countries, Brazil, Argentina and Paraguay. They are really trully impressive, in fact they are one of the seven new wonders of the world. Having said that, the whole experience of visiting the falls, is overwhelmingly touristy, and, at risk of sounding like a pretentious prick, that kinda made them less stunning. Still they were well worth visiting, and here are some pictures to prove it,

 A pretty spaniard I picked up at the falls.

 Weirdly intelligent little creatures, that gave u the cute face in exchange for food.

 Later on we were told they had rabies.

 A couple of tourists posing.

 Little boy mesmerised by butterfly.

 So many pretty butterflies

THE FALLS

The next day after seeing the falls, and after an eventful night during which our tent flooded due to rain, we set off for Ciudad del Este, Paraguay, just a 20 minute bus ride away, over the bridge that separates Brazil and Paraguay. 

Ciudad del Este is... well... an interesting place, to put it mildly. We had left the peaceful, suburban town of Foz, and entered hell. Traffic jam upon traffic jam, cabs being robbed while in the traffic jam, the most fierce rainstorm I've witnessed since being in South America, and me and Javi, two little gringos with our backpacks, soaked to the bone, trying to bargain for a decent taxi fare to the nearest hotel (hostels do not exist in Ciudad del Este.) Anyway, after the rain died down, we went for a walk around the city, and discovered that once you left the busy market area at the border, it's not really all that bad. Apart from a vast amount of people (we assumed they were security guards) with shotguns. Anywho, we had a nice big dinner, decided that we'd seen all we wanted to see from Ciudad del Este, and the next day we set off for Asuncion, the capital of Paraguay.

Asuncion seems quite an uninteresting place when you first arrive there, the main squares aren't really squares,  (more like roads that form a square, in the middle of which there is a little bit of grass...) at least not like the ones I was used to from Europe. However we spent a few days there, and had the good fortune of meeting some really lovely people from Asuncion, as well as two Catalans and a Philipino-American-practicallyParaguayan, who showed us all the nice places around town, and also took us to Aregua, a little village outside Asuncion populated mostly by local and foreign artists. We were sad to leave the lovely little group of people we met, but it was time to move on down south,  and so here we are, in Encarnacion, a city of approx 100 thousand, close to the border with Argentina. Here, we have yet again been enjoying the slow Paraguayan rythm of life, while also visiting the Jesuit Ruins (ruins built by missionaries back in the day cerca 1700AD.) Encarnacion is a quiet little town, and we've already seen most of it, and trust me that only takes about an hour, and seeing as how we are lacking a group of lovely Paraguayans to show us all the ins and outs, we have decided to move on. Tomorrow we head to Argentina. I leave you with some photos of Asuncion and Aregua. And some ruins.

 Cathedral of Asuncion.

 Me being a dick at the old Parlament of Asuncion.

 Some lovely peeps.

 This cracked me up. It's Javi and Fran! Mainly, it's Javi cause it makes him feel good, and Fran because look, she's touching her eyebrows! point made...

 Mark and Elmer at Elmer's house in Aregua.

 Sapus Maximus.

 Aregua

 It's raining in Aregua but we have hammocks.

 Elmer's

 Typical Paraguayan bus.

 some cows

 Toads on LSD. There's entire roads full of little sculptures of random things in Aregua, toads on LSD seems to be a favourite.

Jesuit ruins in Encarnacion.

Comments are welcome peeps, will write again soon x

Time for new

Time flies. It's hard to believe that it's been over a month since Maisie and I set out for Brazil, with a WHOLE month ahead of us to do a billion things. And it's already been ten days since she left and since which I have been continuing the journey with Javi.

My last few days in Rio with Maisie flew by really quickly, with a lot of lazying around (the lazying was mainly done by me) and with the highlights being a few nights out in Lapa, visiting Sugar Loaf hill (if ever in Rio, it's an absolute must) and a couple of visits to the beach and pre-carnaval stuffs. I'm stealing one of Maisie's photos from Sugar Loaf just so you can see what I mean. The place actually pays homage to the statement that Rio is the most beautiful city in the world (at least when viewed from afar.)

True to form, Javi made it to Rio on Valentine's day, rose and all.
That afternoon we said bye to Maise at the bus stop, tears and all.

Javi and I decided to escape Rio before carnaval (why I hear you ask? well because Rio is a madhouse as it is, and during carnaval, prices go up on everything, accomodation goes from 30 reais per night to 200, drinks, food, everything, and to be honest it just felt like too much) and we took refuge in a village called Parati. A beautiful little place, with a historic centre, lively carnaval vibe, and some amazing beaches. Some photos from the carnaval

We had been camping just outside town, when we met up with Rafael's friend Yogi, who lives in Parati, and who took us on an hour and a half trail, which leads to one of the most beautiful beaches I've ever seen, called praia do sono. You could camp there for a very little, so the next day we packed our bags, did the hike again, and spent the next three days lying on the beach. We also visited a deserted beach, which required another hike, this one up a hill so steep I thought I wasn't going to make it, and went and found a mini waterfall and some banana trees in the jungle. All and all, a mini paradise. Bellow a photo of the beach, after the long hike (second time round) through tropical growth and rocky mountain. Well worth it. And yes that is Javi kissing twelve cans of beer.

While at the camping we met a nice couple from Sao Paolo, who gave us a lift to Sao Paolo, the big city itself. From there we got a night bus to Foz de Iguacu, and tomorrow will be visiting what promises to be one of the most impressive sights in Brazil. After that we'll be heading into Paraguay, which is literally five minutes away from where we are, and finally be somewhere cheap, as Brazil is a killer economically. We will finally be able to afford proper accomodation, and I'm personally looking forward to a nice big steak.

Adeus Adeus Bahia

Back in Rio after just over two weeks in Bahia.

Bahia is a beautiful place.

After spending a couple of days in the capital of Salvador (which I wrote about last time), Maisie, Omar and I set off to Permangola in Kilombo Tenonde, which is kind of an organic farm based on the principles of permaculture, set up by Mestre Cobra Mansa, near the town of Valenca.

Permangola was an amazing experience, a week dedicated to capoeira and learning about permaculture. We would wake up every morning just before 6am, start training capoeira at 6 until about 8, then have breakfast. It´s amazing how long a day becomes when you actually use all of it! The food there was an experience in itself, as it was all vegan, and as much as I wanted to like it (although the fruits were amazing!) my body just couldnt seem to digest it properly. So although I didn´t get sick at any point, I had a number of quick runs to the dry toilet. Near misses. And yes, that´s right, dry toilets. No flush, you just throw some dirt on top of whatever it is you have contributed to the earth. They weren´t really part of the amazingness of permangola. Nor was the lack of showers. Actually maybe the lack of showers was, because it meant that you had to shower in the river, and sitting by the river was something close to complete bliss. It made you forget that an outside world existed, there was no such thing as worries about the future, or jobs, or careers, or obligations. All that existed, were just happy people, playing capoeira, in a small paradise in the middle of nowhere.

It was also really cool learning about permaculture, and watching it being put in practise, and just the general vibe of all the people there, and the feeling of community. The most amazing bits, were the capoeira rodas every evening, where you got to watch and play with some of the biggest names in capoeira angola, like Mestre Cobra Mansa, Mestre Cabelo, CM Guaxini, CM Gege and many many more. It was just amazing. (Can´t seem to find any other word to describe it so I´ll just keep using that one)

After a sad departure from Permangola, we set off to another event called Artangola, organised by Mestre Lua Santana, in the Chapada Diamantina. The Chapada is a national park, with impressive nature, waterfalls and the rest. There we went on hikes, saw a 100m watefall and, yup, you guessed it, did some more capoeira. Lua also has a project set up in the nearby town, where he has a space that the kids of the town go to, to keep busy playing music, doing art and capoeira. It was really sweet as the little girls there were really taken with us older girls who could do capoeira, and kept asking us to play with them and teach them.

After Artangola we got a night bus to Salvador, only to discover upon arrival that the city had fallen into chaos. The police had gone on strike (they still are) and if Salvador is a dangerous place under normal circumstances, without the police working it was just chaos. After spending just a night there and attending a FICA roda the next morning, we set off for the island of Itaparica, where we hoped things would be calmer.

We stayed at Mestre Lua Rasta´s campsite, a beautiful place next to the beach, another small paradise and attended an Angoleiros do Mar roda. It was turning out to be another blissful escape from the city, however it all went wrong when we made the mistake of cicling into town at night to go out for a drink. We paid for our mistake when returning back to the campsite at midnight, with our first Brazilian (well, my first ever) robbery. While we were cycling back on an extremely dark road, a motorbike which had just driven past us turned back. We were worried. When they drove past us and then turned back again, we knew we were screwed. We started cycling as fast as we could but obviously they cought up. They came up by my side and starting pushing me off the road and shouting something. I was eventually forced to stop or otherwise get thrown off my bike, and after a couple of seconds of confusion in which they were shouting at me and I just stared at them trying to figure out what the hell was going on, I looked down and saw a gun pointed at my stomach. That made it all pretty clear. I emptied out my pockets (a 30 euro phone and an amount of cash equivalent to about 4 euros) and somehow, luckily, they seemed satisfied with this and drove off. We got back on our bikes and ran for the campsite. All in all, a lucky escape. This drove home the fact that Salvador and the surrounding areas really weren´t safe, and we were grateful to have bought a ticket back to Rio for the next day.

So here we are, back in Rio, recovering from 2 weeks of sleeping in a tent, and planning ahead for the next week...Can´t upload photos right now, but will do so pretty soon.

Comments are welcome :)

Agua de coco y Suco de acai

Reporting in from Salvador de Bahia. We got here yesterday around lunch time, via plane from Rio, with a stop over in Belo Horizonte.

Our second day in Rio was pretty quiet, we went around travel agencies trying to book our ticket to Salvador. When that was done, we headed down to the beach with Will and some friends,

had our first coconut (you first drink the water- agua de coco-, and then you get them to cut it up for you - which they do by very skillfully swinging around a machete- and you eat the inside, yumm!) For dinner we went to the centre of Rio, in the area of Lapa, and then on to a Samba party in another neighbourhood, after a highly "eventfull" taxi drive, which left me and Maisie quite unsure about getting into taxis in Brazil.

All in all Rio was nice, although it's a very strange city, too big to even begin to fathom how everything works, although it definitely involves a more than healthy amount of corruption...

In Salvador me, Maisie and Omar are all staying at Anderson's (our Mestre from Barcelona who has moved back to Brazil) house in the bario of Cosme, somewhat of a



"dodgy" neighboorhood as you can call it. Salvador has been a mixture of emotions so far, although the vibe is of a more geniune place than Rio. I fell inlove with Pelourinho, the centre of the city, with its colourful Colonial buildings

, the chilled out vibe, the chatty people in the streets.

However we're constantly being warned to be careful, and this brings a rather sinister vibe to it all. What was completely heartbraking was witnessing first hand the horrible reality of street children... Children that are probably orphans, addicted to crack, so skinny you wonder how they're still walking, asking you to buy them something to eat, while you sit there drinking fruit juice and eating cake. We've all heard about them, watched documentaries, but seeing it, was something I clearly was not prepared for...

Yesterday we went to Mestre Morraes roda, which was really interesting to watch, and we also cought a bit of the late Mestre Joao Pequenho's roda. I also met Mestre Boca Rica, another legend of capoeira angola, who is also an incredible singer and berimbau player, and in fact sings one of my favourite capoeira songs, so I was extremely starstruck upon being in his presence, and was too shy to ask for a photo.

Today has been quite chilled, we wanted to go to la isla de Itaparica for the roda of Angoleiro's do Mar, but we got up a bit too late (9:30 on a Sunday is apparently too late) so we didn't make it. Instead we walked arount the center for a bit, and then went down to the beach to meet Anderson.


Then when the tide became so high there was practically no space for our towels anymore we came back to Anderson's, where his family made us yummy food. We'll soon be going to a street roda, and in fact I think we're about to do a little training with Anderson (it's been way too long, and I'm sure we will get kicked in the face a lot!)

We're staying in Salvador until Tuesday probably, and then heading to Permangola near Valenca. Can't wait! Will write soon again x