Rio from another angle

After three nights dodging traffic and hooker bars, we shifted camp to the much more upmarket area of Ipanema. What a classy spot - incredible beach, beautiful tree lined streets and some very budget-unfriendly bars and restaurants on our doorstep. We spent several days just sitting our ever-tanning arses on the beach, sipping coconuts and eating shrimp, and although I never thought I'd be one to say it, developing a keen interest in a local sport.

Favela alley in closeup

The fact that the sport is beach volleyball helps, and Marge and I have had lengthy discussions over the merits of it from all angles. I have tried to put forward the case that the ladies game is more skillful, with less brute force and oodles more finesse than the mens equivalent, but she doesn't seem to be buying it. I reckon if we watch just one more game I'll win her over to my side of the argument. Then again, she could be right and I'm slowly but surely turning into a perv.

Favelas

Ipanema will do that to a man.

Feeling slightly over-cocunuted, we took a guided tour into the favelas to see firsthand how 20% of Rio's population live. We'd seen them from afar as we came in from the airport, but diving into the middle of Rocinha (Rio's single biggest favela) was fascinating. Some estimates reckon that as many as 400,000 people are squeezed into this one area, and boy are they squashed. Houses seem to be literally built on top of one another, and walking around the alleys and up and down the narrow passage ways between houses is extremely disorienting.

Our guide assured us that we were entirely safe (I took some comfort in the fact that this was coming from a skinny Italian woman in her early 60's who has worked with an NGO in the favelas for the past few years) and that we were more likely to get mugged outside the favelas than inside. Apparently, this is down to the iron fist with which the drug gangs rule the slums - in order to keep the police out of the area, anyone who steps out of line while in the favela is dealt with swiftly and harshly by the drug lords.

Ipanema Beach - no volleyball players in this shot

Lovely.

In fairness though, the complexity of the structures within the area was unexpected. They've got highstreet banks, cable TV, shops a-plenty (and even more bars) and it felt like it was all running smoothly enough. And there was never so much as hint of danger,even in areas that we were specifically told not to take photos in (apparently, the gang members are a little camera shy and the areas where they congregate aren't spots where you should ask the locals to huddle together and say cheese. Go figure. There was one American gal on our tour who I found myself hoping wouldn't hear the 'no photo' instruction , and like a goat being thrown into the shark pool, would start a raging gun battle amongst the locals. Alas, no such luck. She must have been one of those rare things - an American tourist who actually listens).

Rocinha Favela

That afternoon, we took ourselves up the Corcovado to share the view from the top that The Big Yin enjoys - and what a sight. We arrived 30 minutes before sunset, so the whole of Rio was spread out beneath us bathed in a soft orange light that gradually gave way to the flickering of city street lights. In keeping with the solemnity of the occasion, Marge and I spent most of our time trying to come up with ridiculous "I'm bigger than Jesus" perspective-warping photos.

We'll probably be struck down for that.

Surfing on Ipanema