With Carnavale now officially started, I decided it was probably a good idea to squeeze in the obligatory day tour, and knock off the city’s main sites before even greater festivities began. Jumping on a bus whose tagline is “Don’t be a Gringo! Be a Local” I was faced with a guide that did her best to translate the heritage of her hometown into English, but ended up only confusing most of us with her interesting pronunciations. Only catching every second or third word, I managed to decipher that we were passing through former rich suburb Botafago, on our way to Christ the Redeemer.
Positioned high above the rest of Rio – 700 or so metres if you’re counting – the 50m statue was started in 1922 and is the largest art deco sculpture in the world. You may remember it from the opening scenes of Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo and Juliet or recognise its famed outstretched arms, open to the city of Rio. It is a pretty hairy trip up the mount in the bus, and an even sweatier climb once you get out, but he is not called the Redeemer for nothing, and a beautiful breeze awaited us at the top. Packed with people all jostling against you with elbows and arms to get a better photo, the preferred shot at midday was unfortunately an up-the-nose angle, so no, you won’t be seeing my picture there.
From here we moved onto the stadium, which is hardly worth a mention because all that met us here were a couple of street sellers trying to flog Flamengo jerseys and beer – of course. Likewise the Sambadrome was off limits to us and we were only able to drive by and witness a flash of colour and activity as the children’s Carnaval was getting underway.
Falling asleep at this stage, I hoped that the incessant babble from our host might pause for a moment, and let me take back some of last night, but no such luck. However, soon after she announced our arrival at Rio’s Cathedral, and it was me who went quiet. Housed in a very unattractive ‘modern’ cement shell (literally, it is shaped like a cone) are four spectacular ‘rays’ of leadlight windows stretching themselves almost entirely up the 75m structure. Cursing myself for not having a tripod – churches are the worst nightmare for photographers – I found myself craning into positions that would make a contortionist proud, just to capture their colours. I have read that it can hold up tot 20,000 people on any given Sunday, and I can definitely understand why so many would want to turn up.
Finally our trip ended with the double cable-car ride up Sugar Loaf Mount – so named because its shape was said to remind settlers of their prized export – and a sunset-tinted view of the entire city. Pretty clichéd, but when in Rio…
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