Previous Next Index Thread
Previous Next Index Thread
4/9/96 We spent a long night wending our way from Manaus to Rio de Janeiro. On the last two legs, from Manaus to Brasilia and from Brasilia to Rio the flights were pretty empty and we had room to stretch out. We had a nearly three hour layover in the Brasilia airport. It is more modern than any airport we have seen anywhere in the world. It is pretty but the carpets are destroyed by many cigarette burns. We were supposed to stay in a round holding area with just a little bookstore and coffee bar. We snuck out to check out the airport shopping and find a money machine. The ATM gave us a choice of American dollars or Brazilian reals. This was the only ATM we found in Brazil that accepted US ATM cards. A woman at Citibank in Rio told us that the banks were working on the computer programs they need for this and they expected them to be working throughout the country this Summer. The shopping was not great. The best airport shopping in Latin America was at the Bogota airport. Coming into Rio was one of the most awesome experiences. After endless miles of jungles, then plains, huge oddly formed mountains rise from the plains. The airplane gained altitude to go over then then banked sharply and swooped into Rio. The shoreline bends and wanders. Lumps of mountains burst up here and there and islands cluster near the shoreline. It is a city of great geographic diversity. The huge signature statue of Christ the Redeemer is easily visible from the air. Unfortunately, the city is blanketed with smog. On arriving in Rio I got a phone card and called the Copacabana Pria Youth Hostel. They have a kitchenette room available, but it is $35/night. One of our bags didn't come out right away but we found it in the Varig holding room. Whew! We took the air conditioned bus which dropped us off at the beach road about six blocks from the hostel. We passed huge modern buildings, beautiful old churches and auditoriums and ghettos. Because of our backpacks and the oppressive heat we decided to take a taxi for that six blocks. The first taxi driver we approached did not know the way to the address we showed him in the travel guide. The little Portuguese we studied was not working at all. We felt the Spanish speaking South Americans were much more accepting and good humored about our efforts to speak their language than were the Portuguese ones. The next taxi driver, using the map and asking directions from a hotel porter, still got lost. I kept saying, "no Senor, aqui!" and pointing, but he ignored me. Lost will always remind us of the taxi drivers in Rio. This seemed to be a recurring problem here. As a tourist with a very basic little map in my Lonely Planet guidebook, I was much more aware of where I was going than the taxi drivers. They would look at the map and where I was pointing, or the notes from the hotel clerk, nod understanding, then drive off to Never, Never Land. The hostel appears to be clean but we saw a couple roaches in the kitchen. I rewashed all the dishes. I then walked to find a doctor to see about my rash. I was directed to a local clinic where I was treated promptly (I think ahead of others who had been waiting--but by now, the rash was pretty impressive...huge red spots, pox like, covering my arms, legs and moving to my torso.) The doc prescribed three shots of cortisone to be self-administered each five days, daily tablets and cortisone cream. He refused to charge for the visit, but the medications cost about $70. I went grocery shopping where prices were comparable to the US. Milk is classed as A, B and C...whole milk to skim in that order. It is packaged in plastic bags. The steak was tough but good. We feel very safe walking on these streets. There is a park across the street from the hostel where old men play cards and children play while