Return to Rio de Janeiro
On my return to Rio, I found at the airport that there were no rooms available at my previous hotel, the Carlton in Leblon, so I booked into the St Marcos Hotel in Ipanema. It was a cheap hotel but in a good location not too far from my old haunts in Leblon. I returned to the bar at the Carlton hotel and enjoyed a drink with Sr Jose, the barman who became a friend over the years. I also returned to Charlies Bar, where I met a girl called Lola*, she was friendly, and agreed to join me on a trip to the Statue of Christ the following Sunday. In the meantime, I took the opportunity to explore the beautiful Botanical Gardens not far away from Leblon.
On the 13th August, I was in my hotel room relaxing, when I saw a news report in which the President at the time, Fernando Collor, asked all Brazilians who supported him to march the following Sunday wearing the colours of Brazil (green and yellow). Now, when it came to the night before my previously arranged trip to the Statue of Christ with Lola, I only had two clean t-shirts remaining, one black and one a mixture of yellow and green which I had bought in Sumatra while there on holiday. I decided to go with the black t-shirt.
We took the funicular railway to the top of ‘Corcovado’, the mountain the Statue of Christ is built at the top of, and we were gifted with a few minutes of unobstructed stupendous views (I didn’t realise it at the time, but one of the photos included the buildings in Leblon and Gavea that I would spend 22 years living in!) before clouds rolled in and we were surrounded by an impenetrable fog. So there was little else for Lola and myself to do but take the small train back down to sea level again.
When we arrived back at the station, we took a taxi back to Copacabana, where Lola lived before I went on back to my hotel. However, the scene on the road which follows Copacabana beach was memorable! Thousands of young students were demonstrating, wearing black but with their faces often painted in different colours. These were the famous ‘Caras Pintadas’ who would be instrumental in removing the corrupt president from power. Luckily I was wearing my black t-shirt because those Brazilians who had heeded the, later to be disgraced, president and worn the Brazilian colours were receiving a very hostile reception from the young student demonstrators!
Brazil would provide me with one more memorable experience before I left the marvellous city of Rio de Janeiro. I had noticed in my guidebook that it was possible to go hang-gliding with a pilot from the mountain tops south of Rio. Well, that seemed like an activity not to be missed, so I took a taxi down to São Conrado Beach, and had a couple of beers in a beach bar before asking where I could book an ‘asa delta’ flight. I was introduced to Ronnie Falcon, and after paying for the flight, he took me to the launch ramp on hill overlooking the local district and sea in a Volkswagen bus which had seen better days. There were several hang-gliders there and first we took a couple of dry runs, practicing running and jumping. Ronnie explained that there were only really two dangerous parts: take off and landing. He was soon convinced that I would be happy to take a running jump into mid-air, so off we went! The feeling was incredible, it must be the closest we can get to flight apart from wing suit gliding! I had paid extra for a wing mounted camera controlled by Ronnie, but I also had my own camera with me, which I used to take photos on the way down. The sound of the breeze in the glider cables and a, literally, birds eye view of the buildings and houses below was fabulous! At one point, Ronnie pointed at the camera on the wing so that our selfie would come out ok (my own selfie didn’t come out as well)! For a while, we flew out (2 photos) over the sea (2 photos), which was a bit nerve wracking (2 photos), before coming down to rather abrupt landing on the beach (I was responsible for this because I put my feet down on the sand before we’d come to a complete stop).
I thanked Ronnie for an excellent flight, and wished him farewell, then before heading back to Ipanema, I took a last picture of the skies above São Conrado, with another hang-glider, just a speck in the sky, flying down on the same route we had just taken.
* Name changed.
