Jesus Christ!

... So it's Monday, only two full days left of this travelling game, then home time... The final stretch is here in Rio De Janiero... a lovely little spot... a city that seems much smaller then it really is... after the vast sprawl of Sao Paulo, Rio seems caged and limited... you almost never have a clear boarder to a city, even the city walls of old in cities around England now just act as city center tourist attractions (in Southampton's case I use the term 'tourist attraction' in the loosest sense possible)... Rio is limited by the landscape... it seems small because green hills limit the sprawl to either side... I know this is somewhat of an illusion, especially as the green hills themselves home much of the cities working classes, but it gives the city more of a feel like a collaboration of zones , rather then a vast mesh of concrete where everything merges together into a seemingly gray nothingness... it's nice:) ... this is especially nice because many zones of the city have a beach (Copacabana, Ipenema, Flamengo, Botofogo, Lapa) and clear greenery... the more city-ish areas are no goes for me this time around... I stayed near then last time I was here in a place called Santa Teresa and I don't want to stay there again... That area was meant to be the creative and arty area but really just left me feeling uncomfortable after dark as I guess the poorness of the art types means the area also has other groups of poor people and homeless people that give the average, cowering tourist an uncomfortable feeling... So now I stay in Ipenema, a stone's throw from the beach and an area where it feels safe to walk at day and night...

Ipenema, a stretch of beach and city in an affluent part of twon squeezed between the sea and the lake

 ... My two days here I've spent mostly with Martin, my German friend I met in Vietnam, and two German friends he made in his last hostel... its been nice and Martin is a good lad, we can even have banter about things that carried on between our countries quite a long time ago... we are really two generations away from that and can speak candidly about it and even make jokes of poor taste... its nice... although with his other two German friends, who were cool, I did find myself getting a bit nationalistic and arguing about are respective nations talents in every sport that came up... Football, Boxing, F1... you'd be surprised to hear (or maybe not) that I was quite opinionated on these things even if I didn't really know anything about it... (I'm sure my friends and family can sympathise with the poor Germans in this case... sometimes I can be a bit argumentative... ... and we all know that sometimes facts can get in the way of a good argument... except when they back up my point!)... ... ... and before I suggested that Martin was a tight ass... well he bought me a beer on Saturday, so I guess I need to take that back... :)

... as I've accumulated a few footy shirts during my travels, I realise that the game and the tribal affections they bring can cause reactions in people all over the world... In Argentina I got a comment every day as I wore a new shirt, no matter how obscure... In Paraty some street sellers got excited as they thought my Colo Colo shirt meant I was a Chilean... and today, my Nacional shirt (from Montevideo) prompted a man on the metro to shout at me as I walked past... he then pointed at me... I smiled and was on my way... I later realised that Nacional had recently beaten Rio's second biggest club Fluminese in the Copa Libatadores... So maybe I should be more sensitive to the local tastes...

... After a nice night of a couple of beers last night I came to spend my first night in my hostel in Ipenema... I made an effort to talk to people as all my Germans were leaving on Monday so I needed a new pool of friends... I started talking and drinking with a nice little crowed and had a nice night (got a little drunk but only in a good way:) ... One American looked like Ben Afflick (US actor) and so despite his name being Quentin (classic) I started calling him Ben... There was an odd Irish guy, Singaporian girl couple who were cool but very opinionated and the guy had a rugby players build and a boxer's nose so I didn't disagree with him too often... they were odd in the sense that they were a couple, but the Irish guy worked in Singapore and the Singaporian girl lived in London... apparently they get by with lots of skype... ... interestingly (referring to my noticing a vending machine with books my Nitzsche in) she told me that in Japan there are vending machines where guys can buy used underwear with a picture of the girl who used to own them on (how very strange!!!)... There was also an Italian women who told me how beautiful the south of Italy is, telling me about the mafia, and saying that I looked Italian (not the first time mind you... I think Wendy once told me I looked like an Italian football player... I do think I was wearing my Italian football top at the time though!)... I was so pleased with the final comment,and the lashings of beer I'd had, that I started talking in flourishes and making Italian hand gestures (not uncommen though, ask the guys I play football with!)...

...Went to see Christ the Redeemer today... it's very impressive and a must do, like Rio's Statue of Liberty...

I've been traveling for 7 months, and I've finally found Jesus... there he is!

... And now time for the close-up

... It was nice but way too busy... I was already grumpy because of the excess beer the night before and Martin's being late too meet me... I was a bit in grumpy mood, so a crowed of tourists (I don't know why I try to separate myself from a group that I am clearly a part of) drove me a bit made and had me grumbling to myself... I wanted to get a stupid picture in front of the statue where I was making the peace signs like you so often see young female Asian tourists do... when I saw the photo and how a guy had sneaked into it and turned it from me trying to make a funny snap into a guy making me look like a prat and him the funny guy, well, I was fuming... I even efffed and jeffed a bit out loud... that was a bit stupid of me, and actually the photo is a bit funny... but grumpy Matt (oops, return of the 3rd person!) mixed with a crowed, mixed with someone mocking me... well, it doesn't improve my mood...

The photo... actually, now I look at it, he was probably just minding his own buisness not mocking me... guess that shows how a bad mood can affect your judgment... also, with my football shirt I look a bit like a human billboard!

The tourist circus, everyone copying that bloody pose... P.S. Doesn't the guy in the foreground look like a Brazilian Steven Merchant?

More posers (I firmly include myself in that label)... but at least there's also a beautiful landscape in this photo:)

 ... ... ... but really it was a nice place to go, they cityscape was beautiful and really highlighted the mele of city and beautiful natural landscape that form this unique city... the Jesus is equally impressive... it's a must see but you won't leave thinking 'wow'... just, 'well that was nice' ... ... I was a bit on alert because you hear stories of pick pocketing up there and I remember one person saying that you should even take a camera up there if you want to keep it (which I have to say is exaggeration of the centuary!)... but at one point an old Brazilian woman who spoke excellent English came up to me and Martin and asked how we found it... we were protective of our bags the whole time but really she was just chatting... it was her second time up there after a long gap and I think she just felt a bit of pride in it as she was from Rio and she wanted to see how we liked her city... we were polite and honest, its a great city... she was proud... and she was very shocked when she heard our ages (me 26, Martin 29 if you didn't know)... she said she would guess that we were 18 or 19!! ... That is a recurring theme of this trip for me... it seems that I look about 19... I always thought I looked exactly my age, but really I'm a baby faced cherub of a man... ... now I just need to find a way to keep my squeky clean beauty but also have a gritty edge which shows the ladies of the world that I'm a man of the world... then I'm set... when I have that sorted, watch out ladies:) ... (I'm concious that I started talking about looking older and manly after the old Brazilian mistook me for a nipper... I'll make it clear... she was a lovely women who was proud of her city and even wanted her photo taken with us... but she is not my type... ... I'm more of a Nora Batty man myself (For those of you who are actually nippers and don't just look it, Nora Batty was in a sitcom about old people in a village called 'Last of the Summer wine'... yeah, I know, sounds great doesn't it;)... ... ... we ended the day by getting the sunset at Ipenema beach and then grabbing frozen yogurt (they're obsessed with it here... there are literally about 15 shops dedicated to frozen yogurt in Ipenema alone!) before Martin headed off to the airport... he's off to Cuba now... Its been a good time and he's a good lad, but I don't envy his trip carrying on, Easter at home with the Family is my next stop (cheesy, but I am looking forward to it... my biggest moment of home sickness was Christmas day... I missed the classic family day... it was incidentally my biggest hangover sickness day also, after an eventful Christmas eve (read the archive of this blog if you want to know more about that:))...

Sunset at Ipenema... notice the handsome 18 year old with the shiny face in the foreground;)

... Other asides... Max is my travelers name with locals... they often can't get their head and mouth around Matt (or maybe, my pronunciation of Matt) and so call me Matt... rather then correct them, I just accept it... I've had that name everywhere from Dnepropetrovsk in Ukraine to Paraty in Brazil... so if you hear of the tales of the adventurer Max... that might well be me;)

... As money has got tighter near the end of my travels I've had to resort to cooking every so often... my signature dish is spagetthi with tomato sauce... that's because that is the only thing I can cook unaided... it's the signature dish equavilent of signing your name with an X... my uni housemates will remember my other classic, Birdseye chicken fillets cut up on a bag of pre-made salad... What skills I have!

... OK, time to go... only two full days left, so better get my sleep in... tomorrow, Sugar Loaf mountain for another lovely view of the city... going with the Italian women and her cousin... a nice excuse for more Italian hand gesturing and lessons about the Mafia:)

Keep well people, see you soon (unless you don't live in Bristol or England)...

Hugs and Kisses,

Matt:)

P.S. It seems that on Brailian buses obese people get the privalage of special seats along with all the usual groups such as Pregnant women (not pregnant men Arnie) and disabled folk...

Take a seat (or two)

 ... This has to be up there with my favorite traveling information signs with the Thai equivalent of this sign which signified seats must also be given up for Monks (I don't mean to mock this too badly though because I had some respect for the monks of South East Asia... I actually miss their orange presence:), the no spitting signs in China, and the 'don't use the hose attached to the toilet as a shower or squat upon the seat of the toilet' signs from Siem Reap in Cambodia (toilets where you sit to (for want of a better word) crap are so unusual to some Cambodia folk that they actually climb on the seat and squat upon it) ... ... ... Anyway, bye for now my beautiful friends:)