Iguacu Falls

Breathtaking!

Ouro Preto

SOME THOUGHTS LOOKING BACK

Bud and I went back to Rio at the end of the trip. Those extra days gave us the chance to go to the Sangueiro Samba School and explore new areas like Niteroi and Santa Teresa. 

We left Rio on our 1st cloudy day in Brazil- a signal it was time to head home. 

We had a charmed trip- every hotel was great–every plane was on time– every day was sunny–every city exceeded our expectations and captured our interest- and we had engaged and fun traveling companions.  

Rob Eastwood’s work leading the trip was amazing. Standouts were the terrific people we met who gave us invaluable insights into Brazil. Also, there were the adventures that Rob discovered and invited us to join. The soccer game in São Paulo, the rock sliding and waterfall swimming in Parity, the bike riding to sample soccer bars in Curitiba -all helped us understand and enjoy what adds gusto to Brazilian life.

HIGH RISE LIVING

I will be thinking about the planning aspects of this trip for a long time. Seeing high-rise residential towers far into the horizon as we flew into São Paulo made a powerful impression.

Brazil's experience with housing so much of its population in high-rise buildings is instructive. We know that there are many environmental and economic advantages to increased density.  It works well in Curitiba where the high-rises line the transit corridors and there is a vibrant street life.  The long lines of gated high rise complexes in São Paulo that kill street life and the high rises in Brasilia’s satellite cities far from jobs are more cautionary examples. 

EXPERIENCING GREAT BRAZILIAN ARCHITECTURE

And then there is Oscar Niemeyer, who is still working at age 104, and designed many of the best buildings that we visited - the Cathedral and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs buildings in Brasilia, the Oscar Niemeyer museum in Curitiba and, of course, the Brasilia Palace Hotel where we stayed.  All are stand alone, iconic modernist buildings with great ramps and curves, wonderful proportions, and extraordinary use of windows and glass.  It was a treat to have the chance to experience them and to see how Brazilians use them.

We saw dancers and musicians using the plazas of the Curitiba and Niteroi museums as performance spaces-a contrast to the lifeless plaza of so many American buildings. Niemeyer’s great public buildings add to the image and life of Brazilian cities. And show the impact one person can have. It was impressive.

Curitiba BRT

The model for bus rapid transit! 

Brasilia

Oscar Niemeyer, cloverleafs, symmetry galore!

Sao Paulo Purgatorio

(by Peter Hartman)

Sao Paulo is big. Shanghai-Tokyo-New York Big. Flying in at dawn, over the fertile highland plains below crisscrossed with tilled fields, grazing pastures and rain forest, over the Serra do Mar SP suddenly bursts into view, a forest of gleaming white high rise towers – over 5,600, third highest in the world - dominating the landscape to the far horizon.

Twenty million and counting in the metropolitan region. Brazil's business, industrial and cultural center throbs with life, swept along by the crowds on the street, crawling in traffic along the city's extensive freeway system, flying overhead in the world's largest private helicopter fleet, or packed underground in one of the most impressive metro systems I've seen.

The metro consists of four primarily underground lines that crisscross the central city in all directions. Although limited to central Sao Paulo the metro is complimented by nine lines  of the interlinked regional CPTM aboveground train network that reaches most of the peripheral areas in the city as well as many suburbs. The system carries over 5 million passengers daily. The state has plans to extend the network to the poorer precincts on the eastern periphery, where a human tide of 4 million ebbs and flows into the central city for work each day.

I was finishing up a day of wandering through Sao Paulo's brand-new fourth (!) CBD in the SW, stretching along Av Faria Lima from the Pineiros district into the Itaim Bibi district. Exhausted from marvelling at hundreds of sleek new commercial and residential high-rises and dozens of construction sites I followed an after-work crowd figuring they were going to some major transit connection that I could use to get back to my hotel.

Sure enough, I found myself in the V Olympia CPTM station as the crowd serged in from the surrounding streets. I bought a special CPTM ticket – a transit guard said my regular metro “Unitario” tickets weren't good on this system, but still the same price of R$3.00, about US$1.50 – and went to the embarcation platform which filled up fast in the approx. three minutes between trains in my direction.

I squeezed in and rode back to the Pinheiros CPTM station at the north end of Faria Lima where I had begun my trek wondering if I could transfer to the #4 Yellow Line metro at its station also named Pinheiros although about two blocks from the CPTM station. The transit maps which I scrutinized in the station didn't show a transfer between the two.

I flowed with the crowd off the train at Pinheiros, up an escaltor and down a wide passageway where I saw a sign that said “Metro.” Looks good. Moving with the growing crowd, I continued over and above a couple of streets, shuffling slowly, shoulder-to-shoulder, as more people joined from the sides.

Then I saw it below – the brand-new Pinheiros metro station. More people were coming in through the gates from the street and as we flowed down the escalator I realized that we  remained seamlessly in the paid area. Then we turned, and descended another level to turn on another level and descend again. Now the crowd had grown to completely pack two escalators going down each level, while equally packed escalators ascended across from us. The movement up and down was constant, although no one individual could budge. People flowed down, up, past each other, each one unable to move, standing still while moving with the flow. I was completely immobilized during my descent and lost all count of the levels. Maybe six. Maybe eight. We kept going down in a dizzing procession. Mesmerized by the constant motion I felt as if Giovanni Piranesi, fresh from his fever dreams of ruined ancient Roman carceri, had designed this marvellous 21^st century transit station.

Finally hitting bottom at the metro platform and feeling disoriented – just why was this so deep anyway? - I jostled my way forward through the railings that funneled the crowd into doors of the arriving trains and crammed myself in. I changed again at Paulista into another equally jammed train on the #2 Green Line, extracating myself at the Paraiso station near the hotel. 

This trip was reprised in part two days later when I elected to take public transit to the airport for my 10 pm flight back to the US, again during the evening rush hour. I fought my way on the #1 Blue Line with my bags and was feeling very self-satisfied until I changed to the #3 Red Line at Se. As I approached the platform my heart sank. I may never have seen so many people spilling over a platfrom and swarming each arriving train. I joined the scrum and pushed and shoved my way forward until finally reaching the edge of the platform after at least five or six trains - at one minute headways - had stopped, loaded up and left. At least my fellow passengers were in good humor with their new up-close-and-personal neighbors on the ride. Hard to imagine just how the system can increase capacity. Maybe as the city extends ever upwards the metro can keep extending down.     

O Samba

In Rio, some of us decided to tough out the next day on just a few hours' sleep, in order to check out the very late-night gathering of the Salgueiro Samba School.  The major samba schools, which are more like large dance/social clubs than schools, spend 10 months of the year preparing for the next Carnival.  They meet one night a week to work on their moves and music, and to test drive tiny but elaborate costumes.  During the day our tour guide took us to the vast empty linear stadium where the samba schools compete during Carnival.  They are judged on choreography, costumes, and original music, and points are deducted if they don't proceed through the stadium in the allotted time limit.

The Salgueiro Samba School draws a huge crowd of friends and fans; many attendees are also very impressive on the dance floor. There's a band on the stage, and a precise percussion section of thirty or more performers jammed into the mezzanine balcony.  We witnessed a few dazzling routines where the lovely young dancers' feet were moving so fast that they were almost a blur, amazing given that they were wearing sky-high platform heels.  There were also presentations featuring large flags, and a special troupe consisting of mature women, proving the inclusive reach of the samba "familia".  The moves, the beats, the colorful costumes and social excitement were pure joy.

Views from Sugar Loaf Mountain

Trem do Corcovado

cog train to Cristo Redentor

view of Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas and Jockey Club from train

Hiking in Paraty

Laranjeiras to Praia do Sono
(photos to accompany Peter's post)

Brasilia and the Limits of Planning

(by Peter Hartman)

Brasilia, Brasil's national capital, was planned and built on the tabula rasa of the empty landscape of the Planalta Central several hundred miles inland from the existing capital at Rio de Janiero. A bold experiment. A complete brand-new city, master-planned along rational, modernist principles that would preclude the problems of older, organic more chaotic cities with their problems of slums, congestion, unemployment. It is the largest city in the world that did not exist at the beginning of the 20^th century.

The city is eminently readable. Laid out along two intersecting major axis – the E-W monumental axis that contains all the major government ministeries, their administrative support buildings, culminating in the legislative chambers and presidential palace. The N-S road axis contains the residential superblocks of individual 3-to6 story housing buildings surrounded by open space. Corbusian towers in a park meet Ebenezer Howard's garden cities. Neighborhood commercial strips serve every four superblocks.

All of the buildings are widely spaced with the exception of the commercial strips. A rudimentary public bus systems assures almost exclusive use of private automobiles. This  gives an eerily empty feeling to the residential areas. The only pedestrians we saw were a few people going to their cars in the surface parking lots adjacent to the residential buildings. No one was walking along the streets, occupying the planted open spaces between  buildings, or even in the ground-floor residential lobbies. There was, however, what appeared to be a lively social life in the bars and restaurants on the commercial strip. We could imagine that this extended to the other retail establishments as well but which, being a Sunday, were closed.

Central Brasilia has not changed since its inception in the 1960s. Its original form and function is jealously guarded by several layers of bureaucratic oversite that must approve any change or addition to the built environment in the city's original “pilot plan” area. In additon, in 1987 Brasilia was designated as a UN World Heritage Site, adding aonther layer of preservationist protection.

But Brasilia has continued to grow as civil service positions expanded along with the government and migrants arrived to staff the tertiary service sector. The original pilot plan area has a population of 200,000 in a metroplotan region of now over 3 million. The consequences of this imbalance were immediately clear as we toured the periphery where entire satellite cities have popped up in the endless plain consisting of cheek-by-jowl 30-to-40-story residential buildings. No towers in a park here. Brasilia has spawned all the traditional organic, dense, messy urbanism seen the world over. And as the pilot plan area still contains the vast majority of jobs, the extensive roadways around the capital are as jammed and impassible at rush hour as any city in the world.

Finally, even the original pilot plan area of Brasilia has changed. But paradoxically it has changed by staying the same. I was struck by the fact that even our guide, Professor Frederico Holanda of the University of Brasilia, said he lived in a new gated community about 30 km from the capital because he could not afford a residence in the pilot plan area. The original concepton of the  self-contained community had given way to an exclusively upper-income community. Everyone else lives on the periphery and endures lengthy automobile commutes. As the physical form of Brasilia has remained the same, the socioeconomics have dramatically shifted towards upper-income households, not what was envisioned in the original plan at all. So Brasilia has changed as much as it has stayed the same, indeed precisely because it has stayed the same. Today's solutiions to yesterday's problems sow the seeds of tomorrow's challenges.      

Iguasu Falls

Peak Experiences and Lasting Impressions

A note from your blog concierge: I've asked everyone in our great group, including the non-bloggers, to share a few sentences or paragraphs on their favorite experience(s) and/or important reflections on our amazing journey.  I'll be posting these as they come in.

From Jackie Yang:

Many thanks to Rob for organizing this trip!  The itinerary was perfect with a great mix of cities and sights.  The meetings and tours were all really fascinating and informative.  I had a wonderful time!

Hmm, it is really difficult to pick the best experience, as the whole trip was a great experience overall for me.  Warmth of the people, tasty food (however meaty), great transportation, two of the wonders of the world, etc.?  

From Darrell Van Ness:

Great trip; excellent planning by Rob and his helpers; superb execution; and outstanding friendliness within the group.

We all learned something about urban planning but I discovered an alternative history of aviation.  Chance reading of a plaque in the Curitiba airport led to discovery that Brazil considers itself to be the founding nation for powered flight.  Alberto Santos-Dumont, a faithful son of Brazil, indeed flew an engine powered, steerable balloon before the Wright Brothers put their winged craft into the air.  And Santos-Dupont quickly followed the Wright invention with a heavier-than-air design of his own. 

Arrival home:  Drivers stopped at signs and traffic lights; pedestrian used crosswalks.  And I rambled through a house filled with more furniture and clothing than anybody needs.  Alas,  three days after the return, orderly traffic and excessive personal property, including four vaccuum cleaners and three TVs,  now seem normal. 

Highlight for me, other than Brazil:  Lee Eastwood's stories of other travels, including a ride in an airplane in Africa equipped with school bus benches rather than airline seats.  And, of course, Alex's account of the "fiercest warrior" (himself) in Amazonia.

From Scott Ruhland:

For me, I think I will remember a few things as the stand outs....the warmth and friendliness of the Brazilian people. I had the opportunity to meet some locals and all were kind, curious and genuine towards me as an American.

Feelings of being safe and not threatened at all, given the amount of warning you get as far as traveling to Brazil. Brazil gets some bad press about crime, and I'm sure most is well deserved. Call us lucky, call us smart, call us intrepid, but I never, even as I'm walking around alone in the wee hours, felt unsafe, uncomfortable or threatened, and that was a pleasant surprise to me.

And finally, I think the contrast and similarities between cities we visited was amazing. Each has their own style, flavor and atmosphere. Paraty and Ouro Preto were similar in alot of ways, in others not at all. The contrast between two big cities like Brasilia and Curitiba is fascinating. Sao Paul is a beast, the lion of South America, as Ive heard it called, and Rio is like its mischievous (and beautiful) little sister.  All were beautiful in their own way but at the same time gritty and a little rough around the edges. It was the perfect blend and I commend us all for planning a great itinerary, the time and effort we spent was so worth it.

It goes without the saying that the planning meetings were all excellent and fascinating. I think we scored big time on those. Special thanks to Vincent of course.

And of course, special thanks to Rob, the cat herder. Not easy to organize and manage a group of planners like us, but we know all what an excellent job he did!

 
From Eileen Whitty:

Sugarloaf Mountain Visit

In Rio de Janiero, Sugarloaf Mountain rises steeply out of the city. It’s named for its unique shape that resembles a traditional form of refined sugar used in the 19^th century. To reach the summit, we took two cable cars mostly straight up from the visitor’s center. The first ascended to the shorter Morro da Urca, 220 meters high. The second car ascended to Pão de Açúcar. The Italian-made bubble-shaped cars upgraded in 2008, offer passengers 360-degree views of the surrounding city. The climb takes three minutes from start to finish.

Because the Mountain is located out on a peninsula in Guanabara Bay, which contains more than 130 islands, views are spectacular and show why the city is so water-oriented. Many hidden beaches and neighborhoods that have private marinas are now visible and beckoned to those walkers and swimmers among our group.

The Mountain is also a popular urban rock climbing destination and many climbers were visible to us as we ascended in the cable cars.

Because of the views from this site, this is my One Memorable Experience in Brazil.
*************

and from John Carson:

Brazil was, without question and by far, the most remarkable trip we have taken.

The trip was an unending parade of unforgettable experiences: the planning meetings in Sao Paula and Curitiba, the South-Sea-like schooner cruise, the cog rail way ending in the summit of Corcovada Mountain and Christ the Redeemer blessing Rio, the aerial tram to the summit of Sugarloaf, the spectacular train ride through the costal mountains; all would have been the highlight of a "mere mortal" trip but...

for me, the most unforgettable moments were the experiences in the Iguazu National Park. The walks, the vistas, and the magnitude of the natural setting exceeded anything I could have imagined . Experiencing the falls went beyond appreciating spectacular beauty. From the tiny Swifts, fearlessly flying through the falling water to safely roast, to the grand vista's, to the thundering power of the Devils Throat, the grandeur of the falls elicits powerful spiritual and emotional responses from within one's being.

Just want to also share a totally qualitative feeling regarding the social atmosphere of Brazil (the country)

Having been a small business owner and also a non-profit organization director who has had a positive experience in the US socio-economic environment, I have (and should have) strong positive feelings about the capitalistic-democratic system we have in the US (after all it has been good to Carolyn & me.)

Being ignorant of the socio-economic character of Brazil, I nevertheless have experienced a feeling that there is a slightly different "sense of community" that may exist. The source of this community is beyond my analysis but nevertheless it has opened a small seam in the window of my opinion.

.

Socio-economic approaches have positive and negative elements, and we probably had a very limited view of the negative. However, I still felt, especially in the Sao Paula and Curitiba planning meetings, a strong sense of great effort being invested to improve the environment for all citizens. For some reason the emotional tone of the presentations went beyond posturing and seemed to reflect honest hopes and a commitment to work for an improved quality of life for all.

Additionally, on the mass transit, on the night of the bike tour, I was impressed by the people's lack of aggressiveness. In spite of the packed bus conditions people were able to get out at their stops. To me, there seemed to be a good sense of "we're in this together and we'll do our part to make it bearable". On more than one occasion, riders offered their seat to me (ok, ok, I know I'm old, but nevertheless...impressive.)

As a result, for me, the seam that has been opened is that other socio-economic systems have elements that can, possibly, result in a satisfying and supportive environment that "works" for people...

and the associated corollary? Our way remains a work in progress, we can and should continue to labor for a better tomorrow...for all.

But...can we learn from others?...I don't know.

Seven Cities in Seventeen Days: Glimpses of things Brazilian

I write this at the end of my trip but before the warmth of the Brazilian sunshine is washed away by the gentle fog of the Pacific and the details of everyday life. As I observed cyber silence during the travels, I offer here random observations and thoughts rather than real time narrative.

People:

For me it has to be the kindness, the openness and the patience of the Brazilian people that will stay with me the most. It started with a gay couple sitting next to me on my flight to Sao Paulo. The delved through my itinerary, gave me suggestions and offered to take me to lunch the next day. By the way, gay marriage is legal in Brazil – the largest Catholic country. Eat that America!

Diversity:

Brazilians come in all colors, shapes and sizes. Our tour guides made it a point to emphasize the “melting pot” created by a mix of immigrant groups (Portuguese, Italians, Japanese, Lebanese, and West Africans) and co-existence of different faiths (Christianity and Islam). But it was difficult to assess whether the divisions along ethnic groups are indeed blurred and whether different faiths are celebrated. Japanese communities apparently continue to send their offspring to Japan for “cultural education” and there seemed to be no signs of Id (the end of Ramadan) celebrations in Sao Paulo or its acknowledgement by our guide. But understanding of such things requires a lot more immersion in the culture than seventeen days can possibly offer.

Food:

Beef and beer rule! Pizza may as well be the national food. Nobody in our group expected to be eating so much pizza. Thanks to the Italian immigrants fine thin crust pizza can be found everywhere and provides a safe option for tourist types weary of their ability of decipher menus in Portuguese and mistakenly getting chunks of meat in various forms.  A cheese and tomato sandwich by definition will include a slice of meat. A tough place for vegetarians but then there are very few places in the world that are culinary havens for the abstainers of flesh.

Feijoada, perhaps the real national dish, a heavy meat stew, typically prepared on Saturdays was delicious at the Casa of Feijoada in Rio. A randomly ordered black bean soup cooked in bacon encrusted with red chilies at Devassa pub was simply delightful.  Brazilians know their coffee – not one bad cuppa was had in seventeen days.  They also know how to keep their beer cold – bottles always showed up in a bucket of ice or as in Ouro Preto in beer bongs (photos to follow).

There was some talk about the “Brazilian paradox” regarding eating and drinking habits within the group. But I will let others elaborate and explain.

The Cities:

The most striking and unexpected feature is the preponderance of high rise buildings in all the Brazilian cities, colonial Paraty and Ouro Preto being the exceptions.  Others have commented on this “verticality” aspect and so I will not elaborate further. I was also impressed by the lack of relative urban poverty everywhere we went. Even at a visit to a favela in Rio people seemed content and nobody was trying to peddle goods to us. Perhaps Brazil is indeed ready to host the next World Cup Football and the Olympics.

Sao Paulo – This city for me was all about the other church of Brazil – futbol! I went to the Museum of Futbol and saw Brazilians enjoying and devouring various features of this very new, contemporary and interactive museum. The visit was followed by going to a local football game. We splurged for good seats and it was worth every dime. To see a live game at close quarters played by professionals is simply nothing short of a 90-minute adrenalin boost.

Paraty – A sleepy colonial town where we spent a lazy day on a schooner relaxing amidst beautiful scenery. Time was spent jumping into the warm waters to swim to small islands, chatting with fellow companions and simply being at peace.

Rio de Janiero – The night life here has got to be among the top three.  Next time in Rio I am packing my party dress and shoes! And I will come prepared with some moves...

Also, jay walkers beware! A few of us saw a pedestrian getting hit by a vehicle. That put an end to any temptations to take a short cut.

Brasilia – I have only two words: Oscar Neimeyer! Oscar, you have created and flourished and now give others a chance.

Ouro Preto – A beautiful colonial town where steep cobbled streets make for arduous walking particularly after a few shots of cachaca (sugar cane liquor).

Curitiba – Visiting this town for planners would be like visiting the Vatican for a devout Catholic. And it did not disappoint. Yes, you can tell a “livable” city when you see one. All the usual elements come together and combine that with the warmth of the people and the energy of their music. A couple of us hooked up with a group of locals who had gathered at a watering hole (an Irish pub) after work. They took us to their club where “Brazilian country” music was being played by an up and coming group – kind of in the Bossa Nova tradition. Hanging with an office crowd after work gave us some insights. It was interesting to observe a woman manager negotiate recreation time with her male employees. Some things in this world will remain the same.

Iguacu Falls – There are waterfalls and then there is Iguacu Falls. The vastness of these falls has to be seen to be believed. Photos cannot do justice. We were told that there have been rare droughts when the falls dried up. Nothing would freak me out more to see the faucet turned off over these beauties.

There is so much more than what has been shared above.

But if all could be written then why would one travel at all.

---

The Brazilian Paradox, or: Meat Me in Brazil

Let's be clear: I'm an omnivore, but back in California, it's fish or chicken a few times a week and red meat every so often.  But when in Brazil, it's all about the meat, meat meat.  And savory enough for many of us to put aside any dietary scruples, at least for a few weeks.  Meat lurks in every sort of innocent pastry, hides in our inability to translate menus, and is the centerpiece of breakfast, lunch and dinner.  Vegetarians beware: that delicious popcorn?  Popped in bacon fat!

Meat is the star of the show in some of Brazil's signature meals.  While in Rio, some of us had the traditional Saturday afternoon feijoada meal, beginning with caipirinhas cocktails, spicy sausages, soup, the best beans ever and a big pot of slow-cooked meat cuts.  You think you know pork rinds?  The pork rinds (served with rice, shredded kale, manioc fries and other sides) that came with this meal were a revelation, though I may never eat them again, having now experienced pork rind heaven.  And just when you think the meal is winding down, you get repeated visits from waiters with fresh pans of ribs, sausage, and every cut of cow imaginable.  Very hard to say no.

Then, in Curitiba, we went to lunch with some local planners at a classic churrascaria, where dozens of waiters sailed around the tables bearing upright swords of various meats and wielding sharp knives to slice off  perfect juicy portions right onto your plate.  This particular restaurant even provided each diner with a card showing a cow profile with dotted lines around each meat cut, numbered and labeled in Portuguese and English.  A slice of hump, please!

A night-time pub crawl by bicycle in Curitiba led us to a great local watering hole where the icy beer is washed down by unadorned hockey-puck-size meat patties accompanied only by a selection of mustard and hot sauces- perfect!

Many of us who were on the BBC diet (beef, beer and chocolate) that seems to sustain the Brazilians began to wonder: why, under these culinary circumstances, are the Brazilians noticeably leaner and healthier-looking than a random crowd of Americans?  Is this the Brazilian Paradox?  It appears none of our group complained of malaise or weight gain in the short run while on this high-protein binge.  One explanation offered by a Brazilian is that the beef here is grass-fed and hormone-free and thus much healthier than ours.  And we did see Many Brazilians exercising all over the place.  And perhaps most importantly, the habit is to eat lightly much of the day, and perhaps not to snack as often as we do.

But, even with memories of the best pork rinds in the universe fresh in my mind, it's back to Californian cuisine pour moi.  I feel great, but will avoid getting my cholesterol checked for a month or two.

Hiking in Paraty

(post by Peter Hartman)

Paraty is one of the original Portuguese settlements on the Costa Verde between Sao Paulo and Rio de Janiero. Founded by the Portuguese in 1500s grew as a transhipment point for gold from the inland Minas Gerais back to Portugal. Paraty has gone through several economic boom-and bust cycles in its 500 year history. After the gold production declined in the eighteenth century Paraty boomed again in the 19th century as coffee plantations were developed inland using Paraty to export coffee. Then the town experienced another depression as railroad and road connections were built inland and the growers bypassed Paraty for the ports of Rio de Janiero and Santos near Sao Paulo.

The town remained economically depressed until the tourism boom with the construction of a direct highway connection to Sao Paulo and Rio in the 1970s. Now Paraty, a town of 35,000 inhabitants, hosts 250,000 visitors a year. And, as you can imagine, this supports a lively mix of hotels, restaurants and bars in addition to tour companies offering sailing trips along the huge Bahia do Paraty and treks into the ring of the majestic Serra do Mar mountains on the west. Paraty is one of those rare resort towns which maintains its original character despite the hoards of tourists. 

One of Paraty's outstanding features is the original, remarkably well-preserved warehouse district near the shore developed to store the gold, coffee, sugarcane and other products from the interior for shipment. The rough cobblestone streets are lined with one-story warehouses that were used to accumulate the gold and then the sugarcane and coffee for shipment to Europe. The tourism boom has provided the wealth to renovate the old warehouses. Today, this district hosts many small shops and restaurants. There is even the Museu de Cuchaca which boasts a collection of over 5,000 bottles of the potent local sugarcane-based liquor.

Originally the walls of the warehouses were punctuated with doors as the only opening onto the street. These were just warehouses after all. Over the years the lower half of many of the doorways were walled in to create windows and a second story added to many of the single-story warehouses as they were converted to residential space. Now the warehouses hug the narrow streets to form to form block after block of sinuous whitewashed street frontage with the door and window frames painted in bright festive colors.  The old pre-industrial warehouse streetscape strangely prefigures the post-industrial landscape of tilt-up business/industrial parks and logistics centers with their continuous lines of loading docks and roll-up doors that dot the outskirts of most American cities.

On our second day several of us decided to explore some of the surrounding country on foot. The person at the local tourist office suggested a circular trail starting from the town of Laranjeiras about 30 km from Paraty. The entire trail is actually a two-day hike but he pointed out a series of nearby towns we could hike to and then turn back depending upon the time. He gave us a small map that showed the trail as a thin squiggly line coming out Laranjeiras, the end of the line for the #1040 Colitur bus from Paraty.

So, with only minor trepidation, we were off to the bus terminal, a cacophony of the sights, sounds and smells of people going to points near and far. Finding the right bus was fairly straightforward with the help of some friendly locals. People hopped off and on as we made our way, the bus being apparently the only form of transportation for many of the people in the surrounding countryside.

It was easy to find our stop since the driver just stopped the bus and everyone got off. We confirmed the time of return in severely fractured Portuguese and headed up the trail which took off right from the bus stop. Immediately we were struck by the dense vegetation of the Atlantic rain forest crowding the trail on both sides. The trail was remarkably well-maintained, with steps and railings in the steepest parts. As we ascended the trees, vines, brush, ferns and banana trees were so dense we could only see a few feet in from the edge of the trail. We could hear the calls of rare and unseen birds.

We walked about 6 km and up 300 meters along what seemed might be a bluff above the ocean – our little map wasn't a great orienteering aide. Then all of a sudden and to great excitement we spotted the ocean way below us through the trees on the side that fell off a steep cliff down to the shore. As we moved along the view of the water kept expanding. Finally as we rounded a curve we saw our destination – the beautiful Praia do Sono, the gleaming white beach spread for about 2 km along an intensely blue lagoon right below and in front of us. We climbed down a series of steep steps and followed the trail onto the beach.

Sono is not really a town. It is nothing more than a collection of several dozen vacation rental houses with a number of open-air cafe and bars set back in the trees away from the beach. There is no road to it. The only access is by our trail or water. Most of the houses appeared occupied by families judging from the number of little kids running around. It looked like Just about everybody got there from the ocean. There were a number of small boats with outboard motors resting on the beach along with one that said “water taxi.”  We did see a few people on the beach who had walked over on the trail with us.

We got there early-afternoon just as the cafes were starting to open and fill up with people drinking giant cans of ice-cold Skol beer. As tempting as it was to stay, have a couple of beers and lay on the beach or jump around in the waves, we made our way back, up the steep staircases, away from the water, into the rain forest, for the 3:30 bus to Paraty.