Small Towns, Big Cities

Small town mentality/hospitality is something global I’ve found. However, in the little town of Alto Caparaó it is really something else. I had made my way there to climb Pico da Bandeira, a nearby mountain. This is winter just turned spring in Brasil and it is not a peak time for tourists. Certainly there were few that I encountered during my week, and all but a few in Rio were Brasilieros.
As I got off the bus in the little town of 5000 and began to stroll about, a woman, Alaíde, approached to ask if she could help me with anything. What proceeded was a visit to her super-nice house where we sat down and chatted about travelling; Note that she spoke no English, so when I say chatted, I mean struggled (but in a very enjoyable way) to share our experiences in my limited Português. She then made phone calls to the various pousadas (guesthouses), helped me select one, walked me over and introduced me to Alaní, the owner/operator of the place.
Alaní and her husband are incredibly nice people who went out of their way to make me comfortable. Her husband knew that I wanted to get an early start on climbing the mountain, so he woke up and had breakfast ready for me at 6:00am! (It is more common than not, here in Brasil, for a hotel or pousada to include breakfast in the price of the room). Further, he went on to ask if I had/needed sunscreen/a hat/flashlight/lunch and more!
The mountain, the third highest in Brasil, is easily accessible and climbed by many people, but as luck would have it, I had it nearly to myself that day. Unfortunately it was quite cloudy and the view, allegedly stunning on a clear day, was not the best.


Still, it felt great to, once again, stand atop a mountain and feel like the king of the world. I waited at the peak for two hours hoping for the skies to clear; no such luck, but a moment lasting no more than a few seconds made, not just the wait, but the trip worthwhile: As I waited, an eagle flew out of the thick clouds, at exactly my altitude, directly toward me, maybe 30m away. It was only but a few seconds before it veered off back into the fog, but it was truly magic!
I descended the mountain, and shortly after I began the 9km walk back to town a car passed and Julia and Renan offered me a lift. Renan had summited the peak numerous times but said that coming from the other side is much more rugged, less travelled, and more pristine. He dropped me off at my pousada with his phone number; should I be interested in climbing the peak from the other side, I should give him a ring. Insane!
Shortly before I left the road to start climbing the mountain, I had bumped into another couple, Antonio and Maria from my hometown BH! Antonio is a retired cop and they both gave me their cell numbers in case I ever needed any help in BH or anything at all during my time in Brasil. Once again, the only word I can think of: Insane!
I woke up the next (Monday) morning and decided to take a walk. I had two hours till my bus left. There was a waterfall about 8km away –no chance of getting there and back in two hours, but as I was strolling along, a car passed in that direction. I flagged it down and asked if they’d pass close to the waterfall. Within seconds I was cruising along with Sonia and her husband (coffee bean harvesters on their way to work). They dropped me off within 1km of the waterfall. I checked it out (there really wasn’t much of a waterfall there –It is the dry season after all) and proceeded to head back. Now I had about 75min to make it back to town to catch my bus. Unfortunately the way back was all uphill –there was little chance of me making it on foot. I was at the mercy of passing motorists. And as it happens there were none. So I started off at a slow jog, knowing that the odds were slim, but willing give it a shot. About half-hour into it, a car passed, I asked for a ride, and was dropped off right in front of my pousada with just enough time to pay for my room, say bye to Alaní and her husband, and get to the bus! Beautiful.
I left the town marked by the exceptional warmth and friendliness of these people.
I wanted to try to surf again so I headed next to a little town called Saquarema, known for its breaks, but the only place in town where you could rent boards was closed, and nobody knew when/if it would open. As it turned out, the place never did open but I spent a nice half-day relaxing on the beach.
I moved next to a town called Arraial de Cabo –here to do some diving. I did do two dives –in the coldest freaking water I have ever been in! According to the thermometer on my divemaster’s computer the water was 17oC!! I wore a fully hooded, 5mm wetsuit (my first time ever in this type of suit) and I still froze! Furthermore, the visibility was brutal! You couldn’t see more than 5m in front of you. I think it’s safe to say that diving in Southeast Asian waters really has spoiled me!
Next on to Rio; It is not nearly as bad as some say, and not nearly as good as others say.


It is definitely a beautiful city from afar. Unfortunately the weather wasn’t great while I was there: it was cold and cloudy most of the time. I did get up to the “Christ the Redeemer” statue, spent some time strolling the lengths of the beaches at Ipanema and Copacabana, watched surfers at Aproador, and hung out on Copacabana beach watching a bunch of dudes play futevolei (volleyball with no hands –just feet, head, etc); this was really impressive: up and down the beach, pretty near everyone playing had crazy skills!
It was a really good week; I was just pumped to be out on the road again.