The evening flight to Rio meant that we had a day of killing time and trying to find somewhere that would change dollars into Argentinian Pesos (we soon found nowhere would). Clare had been spening days getting everything packed to perfection and realising that packing for a baby is a bloody hard job to do. Bottles- check, nappies- check, travel cot- check, dummy for the flight- check, water for formula milk- check, more bloody expensive formula milk- check....... the list goes on and on. Then she also packed for me (shirts- check, jeans- check, pants - check, socks- check, all done).and we were ready to go. A Taxi was flagged down outside our house, fair was agreed in my slowly improving Spanish and off we went in the normal Peruvian style (horn blaring, lane switching and at break neck speed). The flight was easy enough, Tilly slept when she could and, unlike British Airports, common sense prevails. We were given an extra seat for Tilly to sleep on, we were allowed to bring our own water onto the plane to make up the milk (rather than having to pre-book milk with Boots and taste any water to prove that it is not a chemicl bomb ingedient ((although surely a suicide bomber would happily drink chemicals to get them on the plane!!))and we also were put into a priority line for check-in making everything easier for everyone (especially a very stressed out dad). Normally, I am an image of calmness for travelling. I do not get rattled by the process, I am calm and know that getting stressed out (like most people at airports) does no good for anyone. However, now I have an extra little one to think about - I was the exact opposite. I became one of those stressed out travellers (I even made a woman from Taca airlines cry in Rio by shouting at her!). I do not know what has happened to me. I have turned into a typical middle aged British Traveller - may even start wearing comfy trousers to travel in soon and start wearing those socks to stop your veins popping mid-flight. I think it is one step away from ordering those sunglasses in the Sunday Mirror - The ones that fit over your normal glasses. Who knows, next week I may be ordering the plates with pictures of the queen on them to display on the walls of our house (I apologise to Peruvian readers who will have no idea what I am talking about at this point).
So we got to Rio having read the guide book from cover to cover over the course of the flight. There would surely be nothing about Rio that we would not know (including the 20 page section on how dangerous it is and how you are most likely to get mugged and robbed- NICE!). So after reading the book, Clare had joined me in a state of worry and stress and the holiday was off to a lovely relaxed start. Landing at the airport we were instantly scanning the building for people likely to mug us. We whispered to each other when people looked dodgy and acted like sectret agents trying to avoid being followed by slowing our walking speed, pretending to read our books and pointing at things in the distance to pretend we weren't pointing out a strange looking character. The Rio episode of Ross Kemp on gangs soon came flooding back into our memories and suddenly the city of our dreams was becoming a slightly different reality. However, we we quickly began breaking the Rules of the Roughguide as saving money seemed more sensible that keeping safe!?! Roughguide Rule number one - Use taxis as buses can be dangerous. So of course we heard the taxi quote and got straight into the queue for the bus. 40 minutres later and we were in Ipanema (1 hour and 30 minutes after that we were back in Ipanema and on a different bus as the first one did not go to the part of Ipanema we needed and instead took a detour through Rochina). Now anybody reading this that I taught Geography to should have heard of Rochina. It is the world's largest Shanty Town. 200,000 people packed tighly onto the hills of the mountains and home to two of the most dangerous gangs in Rio (and therefore the world). We however took our 4 month old daughter on a bus through it but came out safe and able to tell the tale. It seems that the key to the robbers and muggers is that they go for anyone looking lost, looking rich and not in a family group. Roughguide Rule number 2 - do not look wealthy. Therefore Clare did not wear her engagement ring and we did not take any clothes that had labels or names on them but none of this was the main reason we were safe. The main reason was Miss Tilly herself. 2 mean looking men got onto one bus and looked a little angry that we were blocking the back seats. You could see their heads thinking 'how can we look extra mean if we are not on the back seats'. But then they saw Tilly in her pushchair (or baby car as the Brazilians called it) and they both smiled. I felt the stress level subside slightly and I began to not think about the $1000 camera that I had in my bag. I needn't have worried too long as the men proceeded to show each other even more expensive cameras that they had clearly swiped off tourists over the course of the day. But rather than ask for ours, they instead smiled at Tilly and even helped us off the bus at our stop. Tilly to the Rescue.
The first bus journey eventually got us to our hotel and what a hotel it was. It had its own beach, 3 swimming pools, a view overlooking Leblon and Ipanema beaches and staff that were hugely helpful any time day and night. Oh, I should have added that they were hugely helpful any time day or night as long as you were wearing a suit!!! This hotel was amazing but the staff were so preoccupied with the people with huge money that the regular people were treated like scum on the bottom of their PRADA shoes. I may be exagerating slightly but when they saw that our room was not a Junior suite and only had 2 queen sized beds, they instantly knew that we were to be considered general riff-raff.
Despite having travelled all night. We knew we had to make the most of our first day so we soon walked into Ipanema, sat next to the beach and had our first Coco Verde (Coconots that the servers slice open for you and stick a straw in). I felt my stresses of end of term, airports and gangbang attacks start to subdue for the first time as we looked our over the clear blue Atlantic Ocean and felt the sun's rays hit our overly white bodies. It felt like we had never seen sun before as Clare had come straight from an English winter to the ever fogged up Lima. Rio's 26 degree winter was a million miles from the gloom of Peru's capital.
After this, we followed the Rough Guide's advice and got a taxi to Santa Teresa to ride the ancient tram system into the centre of the city. The tram was incredible, the views were amazing but then Tilly decided she didn't like it and started to scream and then scream and scream and scream and scream some more. The stress levels went up again, people were looking and there was nothing we could do. We were stuck on a tram now running through a dodgy part of Rio and we could not get off for another 10 minutes when we were due to reach the centre. It felt as though the eyes of Rio were all looking at us. You could hear tutts of dissaproval from everywhere. Who would bring a baby on a tram? we presumed they were saying in Portugese. I could have sworn at one point the statue of Christ himself even changed position to look down on us and tutt. But still she screamed. She had not slept properly and we were now paying the consequences. We could see the end, the station, the platform, safety. We prayed for it to come closer but we had to stop for another tram going the other way. NOOOOOOO! Still Tilly screamed and everyone looked away from the strange white people with the little baby. Finally the tram rolled to a stop and so did Tilly's crying. She had just been testing us. She was now fine, happy and laughing at her friends in the cot (the bright coloured toys that she seems to like more that her mum and dad!). But the best news was that it was over. Looking at the photos now, the tram ride and the views were amazing but during the trip all we could think about was getting off and getting Tilly calm.
We also had the added stress of just how much the taxi had been to get there (The Rough Guide said taxis were cheap but clearly the RoughGuide author was a very wealthy person) and so Rule number one was quickly thrown out of the window and buses were the new order of the day. Why pay 40 dollars when 3 dollars will do? and so we got a bus (all the buses also had disabled access so no more getting tilly out of her babycar and more importantly, no more screaming!!!!).
The bus was great, Tilly kept us safe and everybody we met was helpful, friendly and loved Miss Tilly. People smiled as we got on, men stopped to help us onto the bus, people picked up things we dropped as we struggled with the babycar and the people of Rio, rather than being violent and dangerous shone through as kind and thoughful folk.
We put Tilly to bed early that night to avoid a repetition of any crying outbursts and we read our books to help bring our first day to a nice relaxing close.
