The importance of not being rigid when traveling

It was when I had been in London for only a day that I realized I wanted to change yet another part of my trip.  Except this time, I wanted to cut an entire part out instead of just changing dates around like the past changes had been.

The fact was that I wasn’t really excited about going to Tel Aviv anymore which I found particularly funny because I was probably the most excited about going there when I planned the trip.  

There were a few reasons why I wasn’t particularly psyched: 1. I had met people from Israel so far on my trip and they had offered to meet up with me once I got there, but I wasn’t sure most of them were that sincere. 2.  I thought I had given myself 6 or 7 days there when, in reality, I had only given myself 5.  3. I didn’t feel like I had spent enough time in England with Philip’s family and the friends I had there. And 4. The ladies I’d met in Rio (remember, the ones who said I was their missing piece?) were going to be going back the same day I was supposed to go to Tel Aviv.

People I met in Cusco: were they serious about meeting up?

Let’s pick the above reasons apart.

#1: I don’t mean to say that the Israelis I met weren’t genuine, but most of them were people I’d met for less than 48 hours.  We hadn’t bonded that much and at the end of the day, I wasn’t sure they’d drop what they had going on for someone they hardly knew.

#2: 5 days was simply not going to be enough time to see everything that I wanted to see in Israel.  6 or 7 days would have been tough, but 5 were impossible.  If I went for 5 days and only got in half of the things, I would unlikely go back to Israel until I’d gone other places I wanted to go around the world.  That meant I might not ever do some of the things whereas if I went to Israel at another time (and with more time) I could do and see it all.

I love these guys!

#3: I really love hanging out with Charlotte, Anna, and Al and I typically only get to see them once a year when they’re in D.C. to see Philip and Natalya or when I’m rarely over there for a quick stop.  I really wanted to spend some more time with them.

I'll get to see 2 of these 3 ladies in Manchester!

#4: Nicola, Hayley, and Dennyse, the ladies I’d met in Rio, were awesome.  I’d bonded with them more than any other girls so far on my trip.  I really wanted to go see two of them in Manchester (Dennyse is still traveling) so we could become actual, solid friends, not just the “oh we’re all traveling and having fun and therefore are friends” friends. I hoped we could build relationships that were a little more substantial.

So that is how I came to completely delete Israel from my itinerary.  After spending $400 to change everything around, I still don’t regret my decision.  I think that when doing this sort of trip, you need to follow your instincts and just go for what you think is best... assuming it doesn’t completely break the bank!

London: Best city in the world??

I love London as much as I love NYC.  As soon as I stepped off the plane in Heathrow, I began scheming how I can move here after my trip.  Maybe it was because it was mid-80s, sunny, and beautiful.  Maybe it was because everyone here has an accent.  Maybe it was because the fashion here is always ahead of U.S. fashion.  Or maybe it was just because London is an amazingly awesome city.

In reality, the reason was probably because I knew that I had a ton of people to see and a ton of things to do.  London was not going to be boring, not for one second.

No, this photo has nothing to do with this entry.  Cool shoes, huh?

I passed out on Wednesday night some time around 9:45pm.  Unfortunately, I woke up at 3am and couldn’t sleep. I turned on my laptop and read an email that after reading, didn’t make it any easier to go back to sleep.  I was up until 5:30am before I finally fell back asleep. (A small problem with London: When it’s late at night here, all of my friends are online at home and I end up staying up until all hours of the morning catching up with them.)

I woke up at 11:30am and thought that I would be wasting my time in London if I did this for the three days that I had here.  I got up and found Renata downstairs and she made me some breakfast before she had to head to work for the rest of the afternoon and evening.  I took another long, luxurious shower and got ready for the day.  Philip’s sister called and confirmed that she’d come over to the house for dinner that evening.  I took a long time in my room, doing my makeup, DRYING MY HAIR!, and generally feeling like I was living a normal life again.  When I was done, Chris came home from work and we had a glass of wine together in the garden.

Charlotte arrived an hour or so later and we got my laptop so I could show her photos.  We talked about her 6 months of living in Bolivia and of our other South American travels.  We gabbed and caught up about boys, friends, etc.  Instead of eating in, we decided to get take-out Indian and she and I gabbed as we waited for the food.

Dinner was the three of us: Charlotte, Chris, and I.  I stuffed myself silly because I love Indian food, but announced that this was it with the Indian food before I travled to India.  Afterwards, Charlotte and I went to a pub down the street and chatted a bit more before she got on the tube to go home and I walked back.  

I went to bed at 11pm and again woke up at 3pm.  I wondered how long it would take me to adjust...

Friday morning was scheduled to be a big day.  At 11:30am, I met Moya, one of the 4 friends I had traveled around with at the salt flats and through Argentina.  We met at the Oxford Circus tube station and decided we’d do some shopping (both she and I needed some summer clothes) before heading to Hyde Park for a picnic lunch.  

A Pimms!  Photo courtesy of Google.

It was great to catch up with someone I had spent so much time with a month earlier but  it was unfortunately a short meet-up because she had to catch a train a few hours later.  From there, I was set to meet up with Robin and Kathy, the owners of the house I house-sat for in Georgetown before I left on my trip.  If I hadn’t had the opportunity to house-sit for them for 4 months and thus save money for the trip, this whole thing may have been impossible, so I really wanted to see them to, at the very least, thank them again and fill them in on my adventures so far.

I walked down the length of Hyde Park where Robin met me and walked with me to the house.  When we sat down in their little garden patio, Robin made me a Pimms, a classic English summer drink made with Pimms, sprite, a slice of cucumber, and mint.  Very refreshing and tasty!  Kathy came in and we chatted for a few hours before they needed to get ready for a dinner outing.  

I caught the bus back to Notting Hill where I missed my exit and then begged the driver to let me off.  He wouldn’t.  I got off at the next stop and discovered that I was actually closer to the house from that stop.  (HA, Mr. bus driver!)

That evening, I was ready to meet up with Jamie, a friend from high school who lives in NYC but who always misses me when I’m up there.  We thought it was funny that we could never orchestrate to get together in NYC but that it was going to happen in London.   

Me, bored, taking photos of myself to pass the time.

He emailed me at 8:45pm saying that he had just landed at Heathrow.  He would email me from the train into London.

At 9:15pm, he emailed saying the line for Immigration was insane. (No way!)

At 10pm, he was still waiting in line.

At 10:20pm, he was finally on the train and was going to get to his hotel ASAP and would try to meet me around 11:30pm.

At 11pm, he had just arrived at the hotel. He was going to check in and would email when he was about to get a cab to Notting Hill.

At 11:20pm, he was waiting at the front desk still because they for some reason didn’t have a reservation for him.  

At 11:40pm, he had just gotten into his room and there was no working air conditioning in it.

At 12:20pm, I got a short email saying that his cell phone battery had died and he had gone out (where??) to find a phone charger but his phone was now charging and he was sitting at a public computer (again, where??) to email me.  He cancelled our meet-up and to be honest, I couldn’t be upset... If I’d had that night, I would have bailed way back during the hold up at Immigration.

So, sadly, I had a wasted Friday night and went to bed around 1am.  When I woke up the following morning, I quickly got ready, packed my things up, and began my journey to Philip’s other sister’s house.  I was headed to Anna and Al’s place for a bbq that they had told me about weeks before and we were all psyched -- good food, a World Cup game, and some “red shit” (their words, not mine) to drink.  What wasn’t to be excited about?

As soon as I walked in the door, I started  to help prepping the food for the party. It was so fun to be in the kitchen again cooking!  Al made homemade breadsticks, Anna prepped the lamb kabobs, and we all cooperated in putting together various salads and side dishes.  I was shown the red shit which was composed of berry puree and either vodka or bourbon and put into bottles.  It looked lethal.  And delicious.

Apparently he is a grill master.

Around 3pm, their friends started to arrive.  A while later, Charlotte and her boyfriend came around, so at least I knew someone who wasn’t one of the hosts.  The afternoon went by quickly as we all ate way too much bbq food, drank way too many beers and cidars, and watched the game.  

When it got dark around 10pm, Al and Anna broke out the red shit.  A woman in the kitchen was talking about how much men sucked and I knew I needed a good helping of red shit to get me through the conversation.  45 minutes later, we (men and women) were debating the actions of a jerky guy, and I was feeling the red shit.  I put it down and opted for a glass of wine.

Everyone finally left around 1:30am and I knew I should get to bed.  My flight was at 11am the next morning which meant we’d need to leave at 9am the next morning.  I don’t even remember falling asleep...

 I woke up to Al poking his head in the door and telling me to get my "lazy ass" out of bed.  I stayed in bed just so I could have the joy of hearing whatever he’d say next if I didn’t get out.  He didn’t disappoint when 5 minutes later he said something like, “Listen, buddy, it’s time to man up.  I don’t care how you feel. Get out of bed.”

Anna and Al: they made the red shit.

So I did.  My head was pounding. I wondered why I felt like such crap.  I hadn’t had that much to drink at the bbq, so what was going on?  Then I systematically went through what I had drank: a beer, half a cider, another beer, red shit, then wine.  I got nauseous.  It was the mixing, not the amount of what I’d had.  Going through my night drink by drink in my head just made me feel worse and I went to the bathroom.  I emerged 5 minutes later with tears running down my face thanks to getting sick.

Al and Anna marveled at the power of the red shit.  I cursed them and told them I would never again drink it and would definitely not mix booze like that again.  I was slow getting ready.  I had to stop every so often to revisit my porcelain friend until finally Al and Anna warned me that we really needed to leave for Heathrow.  I stopped by the bathroom one more time for good measure.  “Man, I’m getting old.  When did 6 drinks ever make you sick before??” I thought to myself.

The drive to the airport was rough. So was the flight.  Probably the toughest flight I’ve ever had.  About 30 minutes before we landed, everything had finally settled and I realized that I was about to arrive in a new country and was going to see one of my favorite people, my client from DC, Anthony!

I'm in London, mates!

It’s not that I didn’t realize this before, but as I mentally start to put together an outline for this blog post, I’m reminded that blogging as things actually happen is a lot easier than trying to remember what happened 1 or 2 weeks ago and then writing about them...

When I landed in London, it was Wednesday, June 30 around 3:30pm.  I had been on a super long flight in a very cramped seat with two large people who claimed the arm rests flanking me, and I had also been in the LAST row next to the bathrooms.  I was tired and wanted a shower, to say the least.  

My view for 15 hours.

The plane de-boarded, I of course being one of the last people off thanks to where my row was located, and I made myself to immigration.  WOW -- the line was snaking around for what looked like miles and I knew I was going to have to wait a long time.  55 minutes later, I was finally at the front of the line and was called to the window.

Immigration Office Dude (IOD):  Where are you coming from?

Tired Alison (TA): Rio.  Well, actually Sao Paulo.

IOD: Well, which is it?

TA: Sao Paulo.  We stopped there after Rio and switched planes.

IOD: How long will you be in England for?

TA: (counting on her hands) 5 days. < pause > Yeah, 5 days.

IOD: And then where are you off to?

TA: Lisbon

IOD: And then?

TA: Well, I’m supposed to go to Israel but I might come back here.  

IOD: < annoyed stare >

TA: As of now, I am booked to go to Israel and then to India.

IOD: And in the United States you are a personal trainer?

TA: < laughs because she knows she does not look the part right now > Yes, I am technically unemployed right now, but that is what I was doing before I left.

IOD:  Are they holding your job for you then?

TA: I think I can return to it if I want to when I’m done traveling at the end of the year.

IOD: What IS the purpose of your traveling?

TA: Um, I wanted to travel.  See the world.  You know...

IOD: < apparently not knowing... > Where else are you ‘seeing’?

TA: Israel, maybe, India, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, Indonesia, Australia, New Zealand, Mexico.  You can see some of the visas in my passport.

IOD: Right.  Then do you have an itinerary printed out for me to see?

TA: < slaps her forehead > Shit.  I forgot to print it out again.  No, I don’t.  But I can open up my laptop for you.

IOD: < stamps passport and slides it under the window for me > Thank you.  Next time, have a copy printed out to make this easier.

TA: < big smile > Thanks...

So, after that pleasant exchange, I found my backpack, saw that it looked intact, went through customs, and came into the main part of the airport noting that for the first time in a long time that everything was written in English.  WOOHOO!!

First stop, ATM.  Need to get some moneys.  Second stop, automated train ticket machine to get a ticket to central London.  

5 minutes later, I was on the Paddington Express on my way.  Upon exiting, I got in a taxi to my brother-in-law’s parents’ house in Notting Hill.  As I was paying the taxi driver, Philip’s father, Chris, came out of the house and greeted me back to the house I had last been at 5 years before.  

Renate wasn’t far behind him and I sighed a deep sigh of relief -- I was in a proper house, with proper shower and food, and was really excited.  Immediately, Renate announced that we could eat dinner soon, but I’d probably want a shower first.  Correct!

So there we were, around 6:30pm, eating a delicious home-cooked meal, drinking some fantastic wine, and talking about some of my adventures thus far.  When Philip’s younger sisters Charlotte and Anna both called the house to see that I had arrived safely, I praised myself for planning a stop to London on my trip around the world.

Leaving South America. This is tough.

View from the tram.

I just watched the Rio de Janeiro sky line disappear out of sight as my plane soared into the clouds.  It’s official, I have no more time in South America and I’m really, really sad.

The fact of the matter is, the past few days have been tough too.  Unlike a week ago when I thought I was ready to move on to the next phase of my trip, this weekend I started getting really melancholy thinking about all of the great times I’ve had throughout this amazing continent and have been wishing I had extra time to experience even more.  

Today was a great final day in South America.  After breakfast, Nicki and I went to Santa Teresa to take the open-sided tram through parts of the city that we either hadn’t seen (Santa Teresa) and others we had only seen at night (Lapa.)  The tram went over the Aqueducts of Lapa and then twisted through the hilly neighborhood of Santa Teresa.  A woman on the tram warned us that a guy who had been hanging from the side of the tram had just attempted to get in her bag, so Nicki and I both put our bags on our laps and clenched onto them, being reminded that even though we had become so comfortable in Rio, it was still a major city with a fair amount of crime.

Some graffiti in Lapa that we couldn't see at night.

After the tram ride was over and we returned back to the hotel, we decided that it was time for one last trip to Copacabana Beach.  Sadly, when we got there, it was partly cloudy with a breeze and there were only 2 people in the water.  We knew we’d freeze if we went in so instead, we both laid down in the sand thinking about, well, I don’t know what Nicki was thinking about, but I thought about the past 9 weeks, the people I’d met, the things I’d done, and the amazing fact that I was even on this trip.

Goodbye Copacabana Beach :(

I said goodbye to the beach and we walked back to the hotel.  Nicki went out to get some last minute shopping done and I started the task of packing once again.  I don’t know if it was because, for the first time since D.C., I took EVERYTHING out of my pack before repacking, or if it was because I really didn’t want to leave Rio, but it took me about 2 hours to get everything packed and set.  Nicki ordered us a pizza so we could pack and eat at the same time, and I couldn’t put back more than two pieces.  My emotions are tied to my stomach, and when I’m anxious, I find it hard to eat much (not that I was upset about that... I still feel guilty for all of the eating in Argentina.)

Nicki packed some of the things that I would no longer need into her suitcase: a pair of heavier pants, the sweater I bought in Cusco, the hat and gloves I bought at Lake Titicaca, the pair of converse and 2 long sleeve shirts I bought in La Paz, my Northface jacket that had kept me warm in the salt flats, the purple pair of Havaniana flip flops I bought today that I didn’t really need, and my bible, my friend, the big South American guide book that I had craned over many many times both before the trip had started and during.

Tonight, as Nicki and I got in the taxi that was taking us to the airport, I rolled down the windows to feel Rio’s warm air and when I looked up, there he was, Christo, looking down at me.  Nicki asked him to keep us safe on our flights.  It was perfect to have that major symbol of Rio looking down at us as we left one of the cities I have enjoyed so much.

And so now here I am in the air on a plane.  Nicki should be taking off in about 10 minutes and apparently my plane is going to stop in Sao Paulo before we take off for London.  FYI, Sao Paulo is south and I’m trying to go north.  Cool.  Goodbye South America, hello 15 hour flight!

My last few days in the Western world.

After my interesting trip to Manchester and Chorley, I had one and a half days left in London to see people and get things purchased for my future adventures in India and SE Asia.  

I met Charlotte one tube station away from the train station around 5pm on Wednesday and we made our way back to her apartment where we were going to prepare dinner.  Charlotte was having her sister, Anna, and her brother-in-law, Al, over for dinner so they could see her place and so I could see them one last time before I left London.  

Charlotte made a delicious dinner and the four of us sat and chatted about my upcoming travels.  Anna and Al, having done an around the world trip themselves a few years back, had plenty of things to suggest and I wrote everything down because one thing that has not improved on this trip is my memory.  

Around 9pm, Charlotte’s roommate who I’d heard tons about for years and years now came home from work and we all talked a bit more before Anna and Al headed home.  The two roommates and I sat around and I told them about my two days in Manchester.  Charlotte went to university in Manchester and said it was a shame that I hadn’t been able to go out when I was there, so I guess I’ll just have to go back one day!

The next morning, Charlotte woke me up to say goodbye and I got up a few hours later with her roommate for breakfast.  I packed all of my stuff yet again and made my way back to Renate and Chris’ in Notting Hill for my last day in London.

My last day there was similar to my last day in DC before I left on this trip.  I ran around looking for last minute things I decided I needed: another book, some replacement make-up, another t-shirt and a new point-and-shoot camera to replace to the one that had stopped properly focusing in Buenos Aires. The camera ended up being a fiasco because there were no shops in Notting Hill which meant that I had to go to a big shopping area.  I finally got a camera, along with two more shirts I didn’t really need (but they were on sale for 5 pounds each!!)

That night, really anxious about my trip, I didn’t fall asleep until 2am and I woke up at 6am.  No problem, at least I could sleep on the long flight to Bombay...

Rio with Nicki: Saturday - Monday

Mellow Yellow from afar.

When Nicki and I woke up on Saturday morning, we experienced our first Hotel Copacabana breakfast and it was delicious.  A buffet had about 5 different kinds of fresh fruit, 3 different juices, various breads and pastries, eggs, sausages, and bacon, just to name some of it.  Great.  We decided we’d try to stick with just one purchased meal a day and would fill up on breakfast every morning.

That afternoon we went off to explore a bit together.  We walked by Mellow Yellow in the daylight so, again, I could show her how gross it was.  Oddly, I missed it a little bit already.  We noted some clothing shops we’d like to stop in later and saw some restaurants that had promise for dinner one night.

In the afternoon, we made our way to Fifa Fan Fest to watch the third U.S. first round world cup game together.  We got our wrist bands and I showed Nicki the interior of the set-up and we sat down in front of the huge screen.  Half way through the game, someone tapped me on the back and I turned around to find Ricardo, a guy I had met my first night in Rio.  A real Brazilian!  

Really?  Fifa Fan Fest again??  Yes.

He asked why I was still in Rio, thinking that I had left with the English ladies I had met the previous week, and I explained my situation and when I was staying until.  He met Nicki and they chatted on the beach while I started looking around and realized how hard it was going to be to leave in a few days.  When we left around 6pm, the sun had already set and we made our way back to the hotel.  We decided to make it an early night so we could get up early the next morning.

Ipanema coastline.

On Sunday, we woke up and got on the metro to go to Ipanema Beach.  Nicki had really wanted to go there, and the weather was cooperating, so it seemed like a good idea to visit.  Upon exiting the station, we saw a huge market in front of us and decided to take a peek.  After about 30 minutes, I realized we would end up in the market all day if we didn’t leave ASAP, so we took off for the beach.  

Nicki and I laid down, realizing we had forgotten any towel or sarong to lay on,  I didn’t care and took off my dress anyway so I could finally get some color on my pasty pale skin.  Nicki stayed with me for a while before taking a walk down to the end of the beach.  When we reunited 30 minutes later, Nicki went for a quick swim, I opted not to because the water felt like ice, and we got back up so we could hit the market again.

Mmmm, coconut water.

Once we got back to the market, the anal, conservative with money Alison apparently took a break and I went on a bit of a spending spree.  I acquired a pair of red, leather gladiator sandals ($15!!), a necklace made of buttons, a sarong with the Brazilian flag on it, and a gift for someone.  2 hours later, we left and again, made it an early night in.

Monday was our last full day and night and we had a lot planned.  After our glorious breakfast again, we went to Sugarloaf, a conical mountain in the middle of Rio that is said to have some of the most stunning views imaginable.  After trying to get a bus, missing it, running after it down the street for 3 blocks, and eventually giving up, we got a taxi.  

We arrived, took the gondala-like lift up to the first point, and took some photos.  We were a little confused and thought that the first stop-off point was really the top of Sugarloaf and we both got really upset because there was too much fog to see below. We tried to make the best of it, taking photos of some small monkeys that reside there and other photos of us messing around in the old cable cars on display before I saw a sign for the next set of gondolas.  

That is not a backdrop... it's real, folks!

Up we went to the second stop and as we ascended, we saw what people had been talking about: the views were amazing.  The whole of Rio could be seen and I realized that this probably would have been a good place to go when first arriving to Rio to get a good understanding of the layout.  Nicki and I wandered around, taking tons of photos of every and anything.  Nicki left me alone for a little bit so I could reflect on not only my time in Rio, but my time in South America as a whole, and the tightness in my chest got a little tighter.

Nicki and Ricardo happy after a goal.

Luckily, to life my sprits, we had planned to go see the last first round Brazil game together that afternoon, so we had to hurry down from Sugarloaf to get there in time.  An hour later, we were back on the beach at Fifa Fan Fest.  20 minutes later, knowing where we’d be, Ricardo found us again.  

The game was even better than the other Brazil games I had seen.  The crowd was again enormous and decked out in yellow and green but the crowd had a sense of joy that hadn’t been there the other times.  I think it was because they knew that regardless of the game’s outcome they would be going to the second round.  

Celebrating and dancing at Fifa Fan Fest!

After the game ended and Brazil had won, a huge stage performance went on.  Various bands came on, we met some of Ricardo’s friends, and we all danced on the beach until late in the evening.

First day in Rio with an old friend

Thursday night, nothing spectacular happened.  I went back to Mellow Yellow, scolding myself when I got placed in a room that smelled so foul that I thought I might throw up.  I went up to the bar and met up with the only person left from the original Mellow Yellow group.  At the bar, a new bartender spoke to me in Portuguese and when I told her I didn’t understand, she laughed and commented that she thought I was Brazilian.  ???  Okay, I know I have dark hair, but I’m pretty fair-skinned, so I don’t really get it.  This was actually the third time someone in Brazil had mistaken me as Brazilian.

Friday morning, I woke up early and excited -- Nicki would be here in a few hours!

Not only was I excited to see a familiar face and friend from home in Rio, I was also excited that she was bringing things with her from my mother.  And I was excited to be STAYING IN A HOTEL!!

The plan was to get up early, pack my bag, eat one last Mellow Yellow breakfast, go down to Fifa Fan Fest to get a wristband, leave Fifa Fan Fest, turn around and with the first bracelet removed get another wristband (so Nicki and I would each have one for later), go back to Mellow Yellow to checkout, bring myself and my stuff to Nicki’s hotel, and then with her, go down to Fifa Fan Fest so she could experience her first Brazilian soccer game in Brazil.

Our amazing hotel room!

Things got off to a rough start... Mellow Yellow’s large, free, tasty breakfast (no sarcasm here -- that was the only thing I genuinely enjoyed at that filthy hostel) was sub-par.  It missed the juicy pineapple that was normally there and the coffee had run out.  Then, when I went down to the beach to get the wristbands, the line was already super long and there was no way I was going to be able to get even one unless I waited for 30 minutes or more, and I didn’t have that much time.  So I turned around and figured I would continue with the plan.  Nicki and I would have to try and get into Fifa Fan Fest later.

When I got to the hotel, I could not stop smiling.  A door man!  A concierge! Elevators!  I went to the front desk man and asked if he spoke English.  “Oh, you must be Alison.  Nicki is upstairs waiting for you in the room.” Cool!

The crowd on the other side of Fifa Fan Fest.

The door man took my bag and entered the elevator with me, pushing the 12th floor button and asking me about my plans for Rio.  When we got out, he carried my bag for me and rang the doorbell at our room.  The door flung open and Nicki yelled, excited both to see.

Basically, from that second on, we really didn’t stop for the 5 days we had together.  That late morning, I took her down to the beach to see the game but we sadly couldn’t get into the big set-up.  There was a second not-so-big set-up around the back side of Fifa Fan Fest though, so we went there to watch.  The good news about being there was that anyone could set up a drink stand, so I had Nicki try her first homemade Brazilian drink.  (It was supposed to be a caiprinha but the guy made something else that had pineapple and was really strong.)  

The man, the myth, the legend: Hugh.

The game was a draw, so Nicki didn’t really get to see the insanity that occurs when Brazil wins a game, but there was another Brazil game on Monday, so I held out hope.  We went back to the hotel, got changed, and left the hotel to go see Christ the Redeemer for sunset.  We hopped in a taxi and when we got to the base of the mountain, we were told that the train wasn’t running and that we’d have to take a van up.  After about 10 minutes of us having no idea what was going on because the woman talking to us had limited English, a kind bilingual man explained things to us and we got in the van.

Sunset from the top.

Up we went and when we got there, the sun was just starting to set.  Nicki and I opted to take the stairs up instead of the escalator and on our way, we saw Hugh, the front desk guy from Mellow Yellow.  I had heard through the grapevine while staying there that Hugh would give tours of Christo and that they were actually pretty good, so when I saw him, I grabbed Nicki's wrist and whispered to her that we were going to join in.  

Hugh gave a detailed explanation about when the statue was built, its size, etc before we all headed up to see it.  Minus the scaffolding that was covering the bottom of him, Christo was magnificent.  The whole area around the statue was also unbelievably situated to watch the sunset, and Nicki and I stayed for a long while taking photos.

High five, Jesus!

After we made our way back down the mountain, we got another cab and got to the hotel.  On the agenda for the night?  Go to Mellow Yellow so a) I could show Nicki what a shit-hole it was and b) we could meet some people to go out to Lapa with.  Honestly, Lapa hadn’t been all that the first time I went, so I probably would have been okay had we not gone, but I wanted Nicki to experience it.  

Rio at night.

We got to Mellow Yellow and Nicki didn’t think it was that bad.  “Not that bad??  There are like 17 different kinds of mold growing in this place!” Nicki’s response: “Ali, did you ever live in a college dorm?”  Fair point.  All of my dorms while at GW had been really really nice, none with shared bathrooms or gross common areas, so I guess maybe I had been spoiled a bit.  

Within a couple hours, Nicki had tried her first real caprinha and we had found a group of people to go out with. We all left for Lapa around midnight and when we arrived, it was the same craziness I remembered from the week before.  After walking around a bit, we decided to go into one of the clubs even though I told them that the streets were actually the best part of Lapa at night.  We were in for a little while dancing when I found a back room that was basically empty.  

Popping some champagne before our 1st night out!

Being that I was already over the Lapa club scene and the company (except for Nicki) had become a little lame, I decided to take a seat in the back area and just chill out for a bit.  About two minutes after I’d sat down, a woman walked up to me and said something in Portuguese to me.  Frustrated, I responded with a simple. “No.”  I think I meant to imply, “No, I don’t speak Portuguese.”

Unfortunately, my response was apparently unfavorable for this chick.  Suddenly, her fists were flailing towards me and she was screaming in Portuguese.  Finally, she concluded her rant with a very angry “FUCK YOU!”

Ah, the streets of Lapa at midnight.

Um, WTF just happened??  Up until this point in my travels, I had avoided any potentially dangerous or scary situations at all costs, but I had really had it and my temper got the best of me.  I stood up and went back to her and said, “What the hell is your problem?”  She looked at me in a way that said “ I’m about to kick the shit out of you” which frankly, didn’t scare me, and she said something again in Portuguese.  

“I DON’T SPEAK FUCKING PORTUGUESE!  WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME??”

Pre-screaming match.

She looked at me, turned around, and went over to a guy who had been in the background during the whole confrontation.  I went over to another table with Nicki and the others (who were understandably unsure why I was starting a fight with a Brazilian woman) and sat down with them. I’m sure my face was some shade of crimson and I told them what had happened.  A minute later, the guy that my assailant had turned to talk to tapped me on the shoulder and asked me, “Do you speak Portuguese?”  

“No.  I don’t.  I’m not Brazilian.”

“Oh. She thought you were Brazilian.  When you said ‘No’ to her before, she thought you were blowing her off, and she got angry.  She wants to apologize to you.”

Our protection against intruders.

She came over to us, and said she was sorry.  I can’t even remember if she actually said the words “I’m sorry” or if her interpreter said it to me and she nodded... I was too pissed off to care.

 It was just about then that I decided Lapa is evil and nothing good happens there.  Nicki and I went to get some meat on a stick from one of the street vendors and got a cab ride back to the hotel.  We got into our room and realized that the door didn’t deadbolt, so Nicki put an extensive self-made set-up at the door (pictured) and off to bed we went.