Rainforest City Day 1 : Rio De Janeiro : Sat 30th Nov

I have a bottle of sugary-sweet Itaipava Malzbier (presumably some sort of Germans make that, though at 4.2% you'd wonder) and Sarah is nursing a tin of Skol (a more respectably 4.7% ABV). It's emptying down around us, poor exhausted little hallions, sitting in a hammock and watching life happen around our hostel. We're in a small establishment called Lisetonga. We're in Rio.

Rio in the rain is otherworldly. The whole city is doused in a gentle mist reminiscent of dream full of peripheral, unclear images and faces. The mountains, when you round a corner of a street and suddenly encounter one, rear up into the clouds, lush with trees and squeaking creatures. We have been warned our neighbourhood is a little noisy; so far there is little except the odd motorcycle beeping past. Rio, it seems, hides when the rain comes to play.

It doesn't stop Copacabana Beach being even more spectacular in the flesh. A darkening Saturday afternoon left a few beach-football players out and about, even the majority of hawkers seemed to have decided it was a lost cause. We dipped our white toes into the Atlantic (which was, misnomingly, baltic) and tried to take in having the beach to ourselves. A night spent dosing on the flight from Houston has done our sense of awe no favours. We sought out a small beer shop, and enjoyed a huge steakwich and pasties (local empanadas). The beer shop stocked 40 different Brazilian artisan beers. We were in Hog Heaven. Even our bank cards work again.

Sadly, however, this is no way to string out a pittance over six months, hence our snaking route back to the hostel, via the Oporto-esque hill, and retreat back to the tower overlooking the area. Lying back looking at the hills, the houses out of view, makes it seem like we are in the depths of the Amazon. Little capuchin monkeys scuttle across the electricity lines outside our window. They stare in and look you in the eye, then get back to whatever task they are in the midst of. Perhaps they are simply looking for shelter, much like every other inhabitant of the city.

Rio is enormous. It isn't as cheap as you would like. But in terms of atmosphere it is unparalleled. Across the hill musicians practice their chops for this evenings concerts. A girl has started to sing. Rio is undeniably alive.

Sometimes You Have Adventures, Sometimes Adventures Have You : Belfast to New York : Thurs 28th Nov 2013

It’s easy, looking back from Newark Liberty International Airport, as I sip at a large Cardamom Coffee and eat my way through my body-weight in Timbits, to feel a little nostalgia for everything trying to fall apart yesterday. Some might say that getting stuck in school traffic at 8am was unnerving enough. Some could argue the day and a half spent moving the contents of the apartment back to the familial home in Carrickfergus was like being trapped in a small room with a particularly hungry rhesus monkey. Few would suggest, however, that United Airlines staff telling us they couldn’t let us aboard the plane, as we didn’t have a sufficiently detailed itinerary, wasn’t a tiny step too far.

Cue panic.

You might be surprised to learn that Belfast International Airport has a single computer terminal on which Windows 3.1 seems  to run. It was certainly an early incarnation of Internet Explorer, and I could hear the modem creaking its dial-up tones. Yet through sheer force of will (and shouting) we achieved the impossible: if we couldn’t get a visa for Brazil at 9am on a Thursday morning, then we would book a short flight out of the country within our 90 day tourist visa window (this requirement really ought to be a little more prominent within backpackers travel guides). Turkish Airlines courteously obliged, £150 flight from Sao Paulo to Buenos Aires on 24th February, allowed us to satisfy all and sundry.

Thank feck.

On through security, Starbucks Christmas Blend in hand, to the gate, on the plane, 7hrs of slightly shaking flying and some ropey movies (or, in my case, Portuguese verbs) and we arrive in Newark.

Ah, New Jersey. I feel like I’ve been here before. It looks crap and full of truck drivers and gangsters. I love it.

$25 train tickets to Penn Station. $2.75 subway journey to Christopher Street. Disorientated walk to The Jane Hotel. Tiny, very very hot, bedroom (delightful interiors, to be fair, and very pleasant staff). Deserted New York City thanksgiving streets. Almost everything is closed. A swamp of neon at Times Square. An awful lot of Irish Pubs. Things looking very familiar. And, eventually, the Rockefeller Centre and skating and Radio City and a big fecking tree and big fecking baubles. Merry Christmas too all.

Meet the inlays. Have dinner. Look exhausted. Have a beer. Tell some stories. Tell some more stories. Drink a Rolling Rock. MMMMMMMMMMM. Subway back to the hotel.

So I can feel nostalgic about it, given that we were offered the chance to not come.

Daniel “Well, now that we’re leaving would you rather have paid the extra £500 to fly direct from London?”.

Sarah “Definitely not”.

NEXT : HOUSTON AIRPORT!

AFTER THAT : RIO DE JANEIRO!

AFTER AFTER THAT : NO MORE BLOODY SURPRISES!!!

DO's And DONT's (*work in progress)

DO

* Track down a snazzy worldwide plug adaptor that also has a USB socket on the side.

* Carry some sort of life-saving snack at all times. Hunger is erratic.

* Only take clothes which can be hand washed, as not every hostel has a washing machine. Even then, it will be a cold-water wash. Watch out when you buy detergent in the shops, make sure it isn't bleach. And don't send anything to the laundrette if it might get burned by dry-cleaning.

* If you in the tropics, remember that it can and does rain. Often.

* Understand that there is virtually nothing you will want to bring with you that you could not just buy in Latin America. You could safely bring a bag with just your laptop and camera and that would be enough. You don't really even need a laptop unless you're writing a comprehensive blog every day :)

* Get photocopies of all your documentation.

* Bring shoes you can walk up (and down) hills in. There are a lot of hills in Brazil. Do not run up and down these hills in the rain, you will fall and that will go very badly.

* Be prepared for pricing to be different from home. Taxes are fairly arbitrary, and what you think ought to be reasonable will be the same price as home. Likewise, some things are unnaturally cheap.

* Let your bank know you are leaving the country before you go. If possible, sort out some sort of travel pre-paid card before you go too, as a back up.

* Acknowledge that you are at a different sort of risk than you are at home. When travelling in Europe you may be considered a soft touch by taxi drivers now and again. In Latin America, depending on where you are, you may be considered a soft touch by muggers. Different cities and neighbourhoods offer different levels of risk. But don't believe the hype that it is life-and-death when you step outside the front door of your accommodation. The world is changing quite quickly in 21st Century Latin America, enjoy it.


DON'T

* Believe the guidebook when it says 'You can sort your vaccinations last minute if you need to'. That's a big lie. Rabies and Hep B take at least a month (3 shots) and there's currently (2013) a Yellow Fever Vaccine worldwide shortage. Give yourself a good 3 months to sort this out (unless you're planning on going 'bareback' with mosquitos).

* TOTALLY FREAK OUT when an ATM doesn't work for you. Quite often it will work the second time, or the one beside it will work, or it will work on another day. You need to find a balance between getting money from bank machines when you have the chance, and not carrying silly amounts of money around. If hosteling, take out a big chunk (to avoid bank charges) then stash it in your locker at the hostel. If you are discrete, mostly you will be ok.

* Pack everything you think you need. I am here with a rucksack full to the brim. I have yet to use my sleeping bag, most hostels don't allow them. Likewise sleep-sack and pillow case, all provided by the accommodation. I have gotten the most use from my laptop, and even then only because I am doing a lot of writing on it. A camera is a good idea. But you could survive with one pair of shoes, buy some Havianas here, a couple of pairs of lightweight shorts, a couple of tshirts, and two or three days of underwear if you are prepared to be a little 'hygiene-flexible'. Anything you need to clean yourself or your clothes can be bought here for cheap. Even the Portuguese and Spanish dictionaries I have brought feel a little superfluous, given that the Brazilians are so happy to help.

Minimal Language-Confidence-Building Tour Of Iberia - Part 3

Go To Madrid : Why?

1) You've decided its about time you learnt something about Spanish's complex and persistent history (and how the Spanish Civil War still impacts present day politics).



2) You think that buying a big beer and getting free food with it is just about as good as life gets (thank you El Tigre! Best free tapas ever)

3) The rest of the time, you acknowledge that the little token piece of bread you get with your pint is built into the price (hence the price!) except here, where €3 pints of Cruzcampo are delicious and you get to watch the Europa League (and Westerns!) on the tv in the corner. You also get to chat with the locals, who rattle away at you without in any way acknowledging that, just cause you can speak a few sentences in their native tongue, you cannot necessarily understand the goobledygook they are spouting!

4) You think "I wish Paris was a little more like London. But not too much."

5) You'd like a Louvre that was just a bit more Spanish. (Bazinga! The Prado!)

6) You wish London was a wee bit more like Paris. But not too much.

7) You want some of that Spanish insanity, for example, a jungle inside the train station. And a hundred turtles.

8) Whilst in the train station, you'd like to punch a shark.

9) Nothing makes you more upset than Irish pubs when abroad. Nothing makes you happier than Irish pubs abroad that are closed.

10) The magic of art being inescapable. Good art.

11) Sometimes the restaurant looks as good as the food.

12) Museo De Jamon. A HAM MUSEUM. Except its a shop. And its got €88/kilo Iberico Ham. Still, if you can find something wrong with that, you're a fool.

13) Soooooo.... cakes anyway? Un Cafe Solo? If only to bring your sugars back down to, say, far too high.

14) This isn't even the grandest building on this street. But it does have chariots on it's roof, so it wins.

15) The Puerta de Alcala, the Parque de Retiro behind it, and all the pleasant bourgeois types milling around and spending vast sums of money on anything that sits still long enough (not including plastic roses from the gippos at the gate to the park).

16) You will never get around all the churches in Madrid. Really. And they're all incredible.

MADRID. You don't have enough days in the rest of your life for Madrid. It's enormous, its beautful, its sophisticated but not pretentious, it seems to only consist of austere elderly ladies going for tiny coffees and slices of chocolate cake, only for you to walk round a corner as a billion schoolchildren lay flowers at the feet of Santa Maria, patron saint of Madrid. You trip over statues of the greatest writers, immortalised painters, powerful kings and queens, every building is historically significant, every street leads to the finest tapas in the town, you walk and walk and every step unveils more eye-popping sights until you finally step inside an enormous museum, just to take a break from the finery of the outside world. How do Madrilenos ever normalise to this? Are they all simply accepting of their divine right to the best?

Madrid is flooded with tourists, and few speak English. Its hard to fathom why so few from the British Isles go there. It's certainly as friendly as Paris or Berlin, and you would find it extremely difficult to see even the most feted attractions in a week (I'd narrow that down to half a dozen museums, a couple of enormous parks, the main street of fancy shops, several palaces and the greatest churches and cathedrals, plus two out of three football stadiums). Having said that, you could spend a fortune doing it - the Prado was a mere €14 entrance, though free on Sundays, the Reina Sofia is €8 or free after 7pm - but actual meals in Madrid can cost as much as you brought with you, so pick wisely. Most people seem to do the tapas option (small, simple yet tasty portions) which works out cheaper unless you eat a lot of it, so that may explain the shortage of chubbers on Madrid's streets. However, even that option works out about the same price as Belfast; this certainly isnt Porto.

Don't think you can cheat the system - Madrid's city centre features few corner shops or supermarkets, so picking up a baguette and a packet of ham simply isn't on the menu. Having said that, Madrid is pretty honest in its pricings - if you are near a posh area or monument, or very touristy part of town, you will find inflated prices unless you go looking for something specifically more local (as we did, and the prices came down fairly dramatically).

A final word on those attempting to test their Spanish language skills - as soon as you speak a few words, you are giving your listener carte blanche to assume you can understand each and every subtle nuance of their Castillano banter. And you won't. Not even a little bit. But you'll feel for the first time that maybe, just maybe, you aren't just an entry-level tourista.

Minimal Language-Confidence-Building Tour Of Iberia - Part 2

Go To Porto : Why?

1) You wouldn't be bothered by a wee drop of rain in November.

2) ...and buildings covered with ornate tiles really turn you on.

3) You've brought sensible shoes for a few hills (though, if I'm honest, there's more than enough places to buy shoes here)

4) You are totally okay with shitehawks (I mean even worse than Belfast)

4) I wasn't joking about the rain.

5) Your idea of a great time is cruising up and down a river and drinking buckets of Portuguese fortified wine.

6) Wasn't joking about the tiled buildings either.

7) You have a partner with an empty suitcase.

8) Bottles of Super Bock for a Euro sounds just about right (also note : the Francesinha, Porto's version of the croque monsieur, is a bit of a filthy three-way between bread, assorted meats, and a spicy honey-mustard sauce. Sort of. Take yourself to Rua da Santa Catarina, go to Bufete Fase, award-winning tiny eatery. If its bunged, the pizza place two doors down is good too).

9) The idea of spending a few hours in the Alvares Cabral Guesthouse, reading a book, listening to the rain, drinking a delicious bottle of Port, and generally properly relaxing makes a good antidote to rushing around trying to find cover and shoes and trousers and hot dogs.

10) Sitting in this cafe, watching Champions League games and drinking bottles of Super Bock for €1.10, and enjoying a hefty dose of local company makes you excited (you can also get a francesinha in here. You can get them bloody everywhere. And every single one of them is different. And they should be about €5 a go).

11) When you aren't eating big sandwiches or hot dogs or fish, you drink small coffees and eat a lot of patisserie. And I really do mean a lot. Do it. It's so outrageously cheap. Staying in Porto for three days was so cheap I virtually saved money by being there. Going out in Porto is cheaper than staying at home here.

PORTO. Firstly, it's the most gloriously decadent / crumbling city you'll ever visit. The architecture is unique, the Douro is barely a scratch through the middle of a valley that you don't even have to go anywhere near. Porto barely has a city centre, more is a series of neighbourhoods interconnected through the public transport, so you could live within your area and find very little reason to leave. All the little cafes and shops you could want exist on your doorstep. The occasional supermarket looms out at you, but you'll find yourself eating what I assume is Portuguese produce at bargain basement prices. In fact, everything we encountered in Porto was cheap, except when you went into a shop that was more obviously importing products, then the prices were higher. Having said that, where you stayed Portuguese, your options were more limited, the standard six fast food dishes in every cafe, the same local beer, the same fruit and vegetables in every corner shop).

The other interesting big about Porto (and Gaia, on the south side of the river, although they virtually comprise the same city now) is how huge it is. The coast is a short bus / metro journey away, the north of the city sprawls away, and although we walked and walked, we covered little outside of what could be considered downtown Porto (between Rua da Santa Catarina, Rue de Cedofeita, and the Rio Douro). The Estadio do Dragao is a short trip on the Metro away from Trinidad station, Matosinhos is the other direction, and our fruitless attempt to visit Braga was thwarted by striking train workers (ah social upheaval! I wish that had occurred to me before we went.)

The best bit about Porto? Belfast to Faro with Easyjet = £25. Faro to Porto with Ryanair = €21. Internal European flights are just great (the equivalent train journey takes 7hrs for €42).

Minimal Language-Confidence-Building Tour Of Iberia - Part 1

Go To Faro : Why?

1) Chicken that tastes like fish (having been grilled on the same coals)

2) Psychotic child graffiti

3) 8-Bit Architecture

4) Illegal Seagulls (I know there aren't any such things as 'seagulls', but for rhythmic purposes I'm sticking with this popular delusion)

5) Pleasantly close to the airport

6) Other (less blocky) buildings

7) A good selection of interesting doors.

FARO. Its actually better than you would think - a perfectly pleasant town to wander around for a day or two, and probably the sort of place that's actually better to live in that visit. We managed to wander for 4 hours and not find the enormous market that I was desperate to show my fish-hating partner, Sarah. I could have bought her an apple.

You also have more of a choice between Super Bock and Sagres (and a few places have Carlsberg, for those of you without an imagination). There even seem to be a few very small and homely restaurants serving traditional Portuguese fare, which admittedly mostly includes fish, but then its very cheap to eat fish in a town where they catch it. God knows what a steak would have cost (if we could have found a restaurant that actually sold cow in the first place).

Lastly, Faro is great as a starting point for exploring the Algarve, as the train station is right here on the front, plus plenty of buses heading east and west.

This excursion nearly compensated for having my camera stolen last time I was here. This time, no police involvement. Thoroughly reassuring.