Detomos Abroad

On our brief but first visit to South Africa, we were impressed with the passion of its residents.  Everywhere, there was a huge pride that bound the country together in their commitment to bring the World to their shores for Africa’s first World Cup in 2010.  It was especially impressive to see a country where apartheid ruled only 20 years ago, lift itself to new levels of cooperation, trust and respect.  The spectacular Green’s Point Soccer Stadium rises on the shores of Cape Town as a local symbol of this commitment to demonstrate to the world that their country is ready to take a respected seat among the leaders of the world.

 Green Point Stadium

Although Progress has been made, the country preserves its painful history, so elegantly reminded through the World Heritage Site at Robben Island.  Robben Island is a low limestone island in the bay off Cape Town that was originally named for the seals that inhabited the island, and is a half-hour’s boat ride from Cape Town waterfront.  In the 1800’s and early 1900’s, it was used to isolate international lepers in a colony and later as a criminal prison, and political holding area for enemies of the state.  Today, the only marked graves remaining on the island are a small plot from groups of these diseased souls who not only lived out their lives in the small space, but married and had children who were taken from then since they did not have the disease.

 

Robben Island from the ferry

Also remaining on the island are the prisons and supporting structures for what grew to be a political prisoner holding area during the latter 20^th century.  Housed on the island was the State internment area for Robert Sobukwe.  Mr. Sobukwe was a black leader during the apartheid years who was arrested and had served his full prison term sentence.  However, instead of being released, the government wrote a specific constitutional phase in that allowed them to hold him here in an isolated room-building among only dog kennels for the rest of his life to prevent him from influencing others in the country or any of those also imprisoned on the island.  For years, he was never allowed to talk with another person.

Robert Sobukwe House (single concrete room on the left) and dog kennels (middle and right).

During the growing anti-apartheid movement of the 1970’s and 1980’s, many political activists were jailed here, although the cell blocks were limited to only male persons of color only. 

Most famous of these was Nelson Mandella, who was interned here for 17 years in the highest security area – Cell Block “B”.  He later was held on the mainland for another 7 years for refusing to renounce violence as a means for ending apartheid, until his release and pardon in the 1990’s.  Our tour through the prison was especially poignant given that it was led and described by Mr. Itumeleng Makwela, himself a prisoner in cell blocks “A” and “F” for 10 years, and one of the prison’s cooks. 

In 1980 he was arrested for distributing weapons to the dissidents and served his sentence while Mr. Mandella was there.  He talked of sleeping on a floor mat in the early days before beds were finally allowed. 

And he talked of long evenings as the inmates would hide near the only light in the bathrooms, teaching and educated each other to read and write, and to learn of the value and of the price of freedom for which they struggled.  Their days were spend at the island’s limestone quarry, where they broke rocks by hand, initially to provide road material for the country,

but later to simply provide a hard toil for them  At the time Makwela was released in 1990, was being paid 5 rand per month for being a cook.  He is one of the dwindling survivors of this place who still have a personal story to tell, and we felt honored to have had the chance to listen to him.  No one ever escaped from Robbin Island, and it was closed in the early 1990’s, and eventually turned into a memorial and Heritage Site.  Today, approximately 127 people still live on the island, many of them families of both the guards and the inmates who spent much of their life in this place.

 

Back on shore, one marvels at how far the country and its people have come in such a short time.  South Africans of all races freely demonstrate their native cultures and peacefully discuss their differences and their joint aspirations.  We met a number of visitors from Australia, England and New Zealand who were former residents of South Africa, and who left the country during its violent period 20-plus years ago.  They were coming back to revisit and reassess their country, as will the world next year.  The wounds of the past are healing, and the country is an exciting place to visit as the voice of recent freedom still echoes clearly in the air here.

Capetown and Table Mountain from the bay

 This weekend as we traveled through the port of Lagos on the way to the beach we encountered a “RO-RO”  Roll On – Roll Off – in otherwords a ship full of new vehicles.  It is like a large floating rectangle with a window.  There is an ramp elevator on the side and one at the rear.  We were like a micro-machine next to it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 We found a washed up bouy – massive!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Here is what is left of a dead palm tree.

 It was windy and the salt spray obscured the view, but a very comfortable day for a beach walk.  After 40 minutes we had 3 dogs that found us.  As we walked they chased the hermit crabs on the beach – a game for them.

 

Lastly, the gentlemen and their boats (which are loaded with Sand [that they have dredged up]) are tethered together and being driven by one moter – slow going.  It’s difficult to tell but there are 14 boats here. 

 

 

            It was Thursday and the weekend was rapidly approaching.  With rainy season upon us and a free Saturday coming up we decided to join up with a Nigerian Field Society, (NFS), for a local excursion to the Nigerian Railway Corporation, (NRC).

 

            The trip was jointly sponsored by NFS and a group called “Legacy” which focuses on maintaining historical infrastructure.  We followed directions to the Ebutte-Metta Junction Station in Lagos where we met ~ 70 other people to take a train trip “Down the Line” to Ikojo, a town located 40 kilometers away.  The trip was scheduled to depart at 9am, but, as is common in Nigeria, we didn’t have a diesel locomotive until ~9:45am and thus left late.

 Our train

            This route services over 7,000 commuters each week as 3 trains of 9 coaches each travel it 5 days a week.  For our excursion, on Saturday, the NRC brought out its special coaches, including a Barcar, an air-conditioned 60 passenger sitting car, a 25 passenger recreational car and NRC’s lone dignitary salon car, complete with black leather sofas, lush red velvet drapes and climate control system.  In order to power this extravagance, a diesel generator car was also attached.

  The Bar Car

 Passenger Car

 Salon car

 

            With everybody on board, we began the hour-long journey out of Lagos.  One is immediately surprised at how Nigerian life has moved right up to, and in some cases over the train’s tracks.  We traveled through busy markets, squatters villages and along a corridor showing a cross section of typical life in Nigeria –   many poor people marginally making a living on the edge of disease and ruin.  But most Nigerians are hard workers and they move on, building a life for themselves and their families the best that they can.  Venders who are set up on the tracks move to the side as the train passes.  Market stalls and umbrellas are only inches from the train as it passes by at ~40-50 km/hour.  Walls that were built to protect residents from the train’s route have simply fallen down and serve as hills on which children play and business takes place.

 

On the tracks

 

            We arrive in Ikojo at ~11am and are greeted by a town delegation of immaculately dressed men and women in Nigerian Finery and are serenaded by a loud local drum corps.  The train stops, we disembark and are escorted through town to greet the Oba, the town’s equivalent of a Mayor, Chief of Police and Judge all rolled into one person.  After pleasantries are exchanged, gifts are given, and many handshakes and photographs are taken, we walked back to the train for the trip back.

 Greeting at station

 Drum corps

 

Oba

 

            On the train we talk to one of the Conductors, Augustine, and to the NRC’s Chief Engineer, Abdul Sanni.  Abdul explains that the weekly commuter trains are blue and that the coaches in which we are traveling are green, and that everyone on the ground knows that the green train is special.  This is why so many of the locals are taking notice of us as we pass through their communities.  We are also told that this train line goes all the way to Kano in the North of Nigeria, a 2-3 day journey.  However, service is currently suspended because the number of reliable locomotives that NRC has available today does not allow for it.  Like much of the infrastructure in Nigeria, maintenance has been ignored and the consequences are now undependable service.

 

 The station

We arrive back at Ebutte-Metta Junction at 1:00pm, as promised, and complete the morning’s journey/adventure.  Today was just a small glimpse of the country from inside of an iron horse left here by the British before independence was given.

 

            As we documented earlier, we joined a local sports club in Nigeria located on the island of Ikoyi, only a short distance from our residence.  It is a comprehensive club with 18 bars and restaurants and facilities for 12 major sports.  Our prime focus there has been the 18-hole golf course, which is currently closed for 3 weeks while the rainy season runs its course.

 

And so, for the past year, we were “Junior Members”, meaning we had membership use of the facilities, but were on “probation” until such a time as the Club’s Committee decided to invite us to become full members.  Last week, we were finally invited to the Official Member Election event, a formal throwback to British Colonial ceremonies that are part of the Club’s founding heritage and traditions.

 

The Ceremony Event begins with a check-in queue requiring both us and our Member Sponsor to be present and to be appropriately dressed:  Matching suit and tie for men and cocktail dress for women – no blazers, no jeans and no casual wear.  Once presented and introduced by our sponsor, we proceeded to a receiving line of the entire Executive Committee of the Club including the Director, Functional Chairmen and each Sport’s Director.  After we greeted and conversed with each representative, we proceeded to pick up our gift, and then moved to the drinks and hors d’oeuvres, while under strict instruction that leaving the room early or having one’s cell phone go off would disqualify us from membership!  We met some new people and participated in “small talk” until the last member had been received by the Committee – over 2 hours later!  Then the Director addressed us and inducted us into the Club as full members, and we were finally free to leave.  We found the attention to such antiquated customs both curious and refreshing.  It demonstrated clearly how historic customs and traditions are adapted locally, although they are culturally curious and serve only to preserve a comfortable familiarity with the past.

           No, Monday Night Football has not moved nights, we have simply begun a local version of our own entertainment here at Queen’s Drive in Lagos, Nigeria.

 

            Months ago, Rocky built two small soccer goals, (40 inches tall x 55 inches wide and 55 inches deep), out of PVC pipe and old soccer nets we brought from the USA.  We placed these on our apartment’s outdoor basketball court in hopes that the local residents and their children would begin to use them.  Instead, we sparked interest in the complex’s guards and staff, which motivated Rocky to organize what has now turned into a regular Wednesday Night Football Match, mixing Nigerians and Expats, drivers, guards, staff and residents’ and creating an event which has taken over the complex’s tennis courts every week on Wednesday evening.

 

            The matches are played 5 on 5, with usually about 12-18 people participating, including an average of about 2-5 “Oyibo’s”.  Most of the Nigerian players are in the 25-35 age range, and all are technically skilled with a soccer ball at their feet.

 

            Some of the more amazing aspects of the game are the fact that some players play barefoot, and some play in flip-flop sandals!  How they run and control the ball with this lack of footwear is  truly amazing.  Every game ends with a quick beer or water for the players and the session’s group photo – a pictorial record of an event that has no social, political or economic overtures.  The world’s sport!

 Notice the bare feet

 Even the guard who was on duty wanted in the picture!

Rocky and I had a long weekend at the end of May and were able to spend the night at the beach.  We recently have purchased the beach house that we have been escaping to on weekends for the last several months.  So an overnighter was perfect to get a good feel of how well everything works.  And all worked wonderfully well.  The ocean lights up at night with lights of hundreds of ships heading in and out of the Lagos Harbor and the sunset was spectacular.

 Sunset

  Reflections

 Julie at sunset

 Sunset

Our Royal Caribbean Western Mediterranean cruise took us to the country of Egypt for a day, and we decided to make the most of it.  Our ship docked at 6:30am in Alexandria, an ancient port city remade in recent history.  With our limited time available, we decided to make the 2 ½ bus journey into Cairo to see the ancient wonders of the Giza Plateau.  We met our bus and departed at 7:10am with a wonderful guide, an Egyptian named Mohamed Mandour, an inherited owner of a family Mango Orchard business with a worldly appreciation, a fine sense of humor, and a classical Egyptian lack of shyness in giving you his opinion on any topic you might inquire about. The route south from the harbor took us progressively on causeways through the Nile delta, past refineries, through grape-palm-mango-strawberry farms, into new, desert, housing developments, and finally into the city.

The cones are pigeon houses.  Note the sand – it is everywhere.

 

After reaching Giza on the west bank of the Nile, (Cairo city center occupies the east bank), one could not miss the Great Pyramid of Cheops rising above the skyline, viewable from almost anywhere in town.  The Pharaohs would build their early monuments up outside of the fertile Nile River valley where floods were common, onto the higher ground at the edges of the great desert.  Today, the city of greater Cairo, designed to support about 5 million people, is home to nearly 20 million individuals, and has pushed its expansion far into the desert – almost to the foot of the pyramids.

 

 

We went to a nearby Overlook on the Western Plateau, where Cheops and its sister-pyramids could be viewed, and where local vendors can be engaged for trinkets or a camel ride.  The locals have a classic “tourist fleecing” business plan that gets you engaged for little-to-nothing, and then forces you to pay to disengage.  An example of this is demonstrated by the local camel owners who will allow you onto their camel for $5-$10, but will then take you on a trek away from the Overlook, and charge you $20-$50 to bring you back or allow the camel to kneel to let you off.  Even the government security guards will encourage you to cross the “no admittance” security ropes that surround the pyramids, only to subsequently demand payment to keep them from arresting you for the violation.  It is the entrepreneurial system at work with a large posting of “Buyer Beware”. 

 

From the Overlook, we went back to the foot of the Pyramid of Chephren where we walked among the 4500 year-old ruins of adjoining temples and courtyards and went inside the display of the recovered “Pharaoh’s Boat”.

(A 43-meter cypress wood boat, buried for the pharaoh’s trip in the afterlife).  From the Pyramids, it’s a short walk downhill to the Sphinx, the famous half-man/half-lion monument whose nose was shot-off for soldiers’ amusement during the World War.  It is carved from a single, huge piece of limestone, and the bottom-half, which had been buried for centuries in the sand, is in remarkably good shape.

 

After leaving the pyramids of the Giza Plateau, we traveled into town for lunch at a hotel/resort called the Mena House. 

The Mena House was founded in 1869 as the Egyptian Royal Family’s Hunting Lodge.  It is ornate and lavish, and the staff met us with an amusing musical welcome of European & American National anthems played on an unlikely assortment of musical instruments, including bagpipes, trombone, ukulele and violin. 

Lunch was an elegant buffet of typical Egyptian fare, and the desert table presented options we had never before tasted.

 

When lunch was over, we traveled southward to Memphis, Egypt’s first capital, to an open air museum at the ruins of the temple of Ptah that houses the Alabaster Sphinx and the recovered Statue of Ramses, along with an impressive collection of sarcophaguses, carvings, busts and artifacts.

All around this particular area are locals with houses and dirt floors, who dig in secrecy at night under their dwellings.  They do this to recover artifacts which they sell on the illegal, antiquities market.  The government has tried to move them out, but with little success.  When they have exhausted investigating their dwelling’s footprint, they move their house to more opportunistic ground.  And so, the dismantling of the country’s physical heritage continues. Today, over 4000 years of Egyptian history are spread among the world’s museums, and a substantial part of the rest is hidden from view in private, illegal collections, assembled over hundreds’ of years.

 

From here, we traveled to Sakkara, the location of the oldest ancient cemetery in the world, where is located the world’s first monumental stone building, the Step Pyramid of King Zoser and a complex of Mastabas, (funeral chambers), built nearby, (~4700 years old).  We took time to enter one of the best preserved Mastabas’, where the hand carved and brilliantly colored paneled 33 rooms are relatively intact depicting scenes of everyday life in the Nile Valley.  We then traveled to the entrance to the courtyard and the excavation of the Step Pyramid, wandering among the unearthed columns and ruins of the surrounding temples and vaults.

 

From here, we concluded our trip with a visit to the Papyrus Institute where the creation of papyrus “paper” from the natural papyrus reed was demonstrated.  The Institute also houses some beautiful painted papyrus scenes which can be purchased, along with an attached jewelry and souvenir shop.  It is here that one can get a customized “khartoush”, one’s name in hieroglyphics represented on a piece of jewelry that captures and protects the spirit, (I got a set of silver cufflinks, and Julie got a silver bracelet).

 

As the sun began to set, we headed back for the 2 ½ hour trip back to the Port of Alexandria, arriving at the Ship at nearly 9:00pm – a long but wondrous day!

 

 

Car load of fabric on its way to market.

Termite hill in Pendjari National Park.

Pinapples in the baskets and  in the bags; pinapples everywhere!

Local fuel depot. The glass jars contain various amounts of fuel: 1 liter. liters and the large glass bottles 25 liters.

A large truckload of charcoal.

Elegantly dressed ladies.

One way to transport a bag of grain.

Bags of mangos headed to market.

Please note the sign says “Buses Welcome”.  This is the stilt village; all trasport is by boat.

This motorbike is carrying a bed (headboard, footboard and rails, 4 chairs and a table!

We rise at 5am on Good Friday to meet our group of 8 and to drive west from Nigeria to the Benin border, an early start to avoid the Easter Holiday traffic.  We were up and ready to go, and so were 5 others, but one member never showed.  We waited until 6:15am and finally drove to his apartment and banged on his door.  Apparently a late night of imbibing had him a bit unprepared for the trip.  With our best-laid plans already in shambles, we dragged him out of bed and designated him as our trip’s “whipping boy”. Two hours later we made it to the border in the midst of heavy traffic and a very large crowd.  At the Nigerian-Benin border there are a series of stations, (tables), that you walk through outside, while carrying your bags with you.  Each station does one small part of the process, and then directs you to queue up for the next.  There were so many people that the noise level is quite high, the heat of the day beats down on you, the street hawkers/vendors are in your face, and chaos is everywhere. It took 1½ hours to get everyone through, with a small dash (tip) at the appropriate places to speed up the process.  We are a diverse group: Italian, American, Trinidadian, and British, 3 women and 5 men. After successfully negotiating the border, we met Grace, our Benin-native tour leader.  While in Benin, we would call a small 12-person van our “wheels”, and our trip started well enough on a modern toll road.  As we drove west into the large city of Cotonou, (named for “near the lagoon of death”, it was believed that it was here that dead souls traveled to the sea), we enter the land of round-a-abouts (traffic circles).  Your cruise along and then must slow down for a crowded, congested round-a-about.  Cotonou is the largest city in Benin and very similar to Lagos: crowded, noisy, lots of cars and motorbikes, and dusty, with plain concrete buildings.  Benin, as a country, only has a population of ~6 million people, and most of them are in the south near the coast. While Grace exchanged money at a bank, (unit of currency is the CFA – the Benin Franc.  ~450 francs = $1), we headed to a local bar and had our first beer – Flag Beer – cold and local. 

Barbara, Scott, Rocky, Jonathan, Antonio, Jill & Darren

Then we began the long journey north in Benin, losing traffic and any decent roadways as we went.  We traveled through many local villages stopping to stretch our legs and ended up eating lunch at a local ostrich farm in the town of Dassa. 

This time of year, in southern Benin, is the beginning of the rainy season, but we saw little evidence of anything but “dry”.  As we continued north through the villages in the early evening we saw several pilgrimages of men and women, (in the middle of the highway), celebrating the holidays with a person carrying a cross.  We eventually arrived in the north of the country at our “hotel” in the town of Tanguita, in the dark at ~10pm.  Hotel Baobob is a series of round one-room huts with an outdoor reception and dining area. 

We were welcomed and commenced to drink all the beer and gin that the bar had stocked, while eating a locally prepared chicken dinner. The rooms that night were hot, stark and spartan – but we slept like babies in our mosquito-netted, floor-fanned comfort. 

 

We were up early for breakfast at 5:00am to continue north into Pendjari National Park, a nature reserve on the border of the countries of Togo and Burkina Faso. 

It encompasses plains, savanna, mountains, lakes, the Pendjari River and a forest, and is home to the largest variety of wildlife in West Africa, including lions, elephants, cheetahs and hippos.  We drove on red dirt roads the whole way, rarely seeing any other vehicle.  Our trip now was with 3 people, plus a driver, each in one of 3 land-rover jeeps, equipped with an additional bench seat on the roof! 

Rocky and Jill riding topside!

All locals travel here by foot, or the occasional motorbike or bicycle.   It was blistering hot ~40 degrees C or 104F, as the rainy season comes much later to the area in northern Benin.  However, even with the heat we saw an African elephant, lots of birds, baboons, chevalier and roan antelope, kobe, hippos, waterbuck, deer, stork and crocodiles.  We all took turns riding on the roof seats, (a great viewing area), and red dust accumulated everywhere! 

We returned to our hotel for dinner and entertainment by some of the local women.  They performed native dances and sang for us, making us participate with them and feel very welcomed.

 

Our original plans had us visiting a local village the next day, but we enjoyed Pendjari Park so much, we rehired the jeeps and drivers, and we were up early to go back and see some more animals.  This morning when we entered the park we saw a herd of forest elephants.  They are darker gray and smaller in size than the African elephant.  They also have a longer trunk and straighter tusks.  We saw fervet monkeys, buffalo, deer, small monkeys, baboons, antelopes, and birds. 

A buffalo herd.

We watched as the Park Patrol began the burning of the bush, to control the forest’s growth. 

We walked across the river border into Burkina Faso, which has an adjoining animal nature park bordering the Pendjari Park to the north. 

At the Benin/Burkina Faso border.

After lunch, we started our journey back south and stopped just outside of the park at a local village, Tanougou, where there was a wonderful natural spring waterfall.  We hiked to the end of the road where there was a small pool, but our guide said not to swim here, and we were directed to hike up more rocky terrain to the upper waterfall where there was a big, beautiful pool.  It was a cool and refreshing swim.

After a bit of shopping with the village locals, we traveled further south until we stopped for the evening in Natitingou, at the Tata Somba Hotel.  After removing layers of red dirt, we headed to a small, local restaurant that Grace had reserved for us, where we had local kabobs, rice, the world’s best fries, veggies, wine, beer and water.  The women all wore local dress and some even had their babies on their backs as they cooked and served us.  We danced to local music videos, avoided a few raindrops, and had a most wonderful evening.

 

The next morning we continued our journey south on to the town of Abomey.  Here we visited the region’s museum and learned the history of the 12 kings of Benin and their kingdoms, which spanned from the early 1600’s until 1900. 

The 12 kings geneology.

We were able to tour 2 of the king’s original palaces that are still remarkably preserved. Each king was represented by a set of symbols, and each had his own custom ceremonial throne, (one was built on the skulls of his enemies).  These kingdoms conquered much of this area of West Africa, and flourished by capturing their enemies and selling them to European Slave Traders in exchange for weapons and cannons.  This is also the origin of the original Amazon Women Warriors, which was an innovation of one of the kings to conquer a larger region.  It was a series of brutal and bloodthirsty reigns, which propagated the kingdom until the arrival of French Commander Dodd, who conquered the kingdom in 1900, and banished the last king to Libya.  At the historical site, we saw native blacksmiths and weavers at work and shopped the Benin traditional appliqué art.

The 12 kings thrones and alters.

 

We then headed to our hotel, Auberge de Abomey, where our group had booked all of the hotel’s rooms – 6 of them.  We had a splendid French dinner out on the porch, hooked up one member’s iPod to some speakers and had an evening of music, dance and conversation.

 

In the morning, we were up, (not so early this day), and continued our journey south towards the border.  Along the way we began to run into traffic again and were delayed when a tanker jack-knifed across the road.  This appears to be a very common occurrence in Africa where there are hills, as many of the large trucks’ brakes do not work going backwards. If the truck loses power going up a hill and then begins to roll backwards, they lose all control and jackknife onto the side of the road.  Nigeria, Kenya and Benin roads on hills are littered with the skeletal wrecks of these occurrences.  Luckily for us, in this case, the Belgian Army was on maneuvers here and quickly built a dirt road around the vehicle allowing us to continue or trip while only losing 45 minutes. 

These trees with red flowers were just beautiful!

On the outskirts of Cotonou we turned east to Lake Ganvie where we boarded a boat and started a 30-minute journey to the middle of the lake to the Ganvie stilt village. 

This village was founded during the slave trading days when the local fisherman were seeking refuge from the Abomey rulers and the European slave traders.  It is a fishing village today of 30,000 people, built on stilts in the shallows of the middle of this large lake.  We ate at a local stilted restaurant “Hotel Germain”, (buses welcomed?), having smoked fish and salads.  The locals here stick branches into the waters creating local habitats for fish, (each “plot is typically 5,000-10,000 sq yards).  After a period of time, they surround the habitat with nets, trapping the larger fish inside.  They then wait, allowing the fish to grow within this habitat before climbing inside and manually removing all of the habitat sticks.  This then allows them to close the area’s nets and capture all the fish that were inside. 

After a boat ride back to solid ground it was then back to the Nigerian border.  The noise and traffic congestion was a reminder that we were heading back to Lagos.  After going through the now-familiar series of border stations, we walked across the border and we were met by our auto drivers and our mopo, (motorized patrol), security escort.  Mopo took the lead with sirens blaring and lights flashing to escort our little convoy through the twenty-plus Nigerian checkpoint stops as you navigate the Nigerian countryside.  It was nice to whiz right on by these stops, and 2 hours later we were home.  

 

Additional Pictures:

Black Market Petrol.  When the electrical power goes out  these little road side shops are where you buy your fuel. It is double what the gas stations charge, however, you really have no choice.

We bought petrol twice this way; 25 liters the first time and 15 liters the second.  Your engine does backfire once in a while with this fuel.

A boat full of empty 50 liter petrol cans headed to Nigeria to get petrol on the black market.

Although this is a blog about our experiences in Africa, we think of Brazil as a “sister” country to Nigeria.  After all, they were connected millions of years ago before the continents rifted apart.  And if one is going to visit Brazil, what better time than at Carnivale, and what better way then by sailing the coast between San Paulo and Rio de Janiero!  So, for the last 2 weeks of February, Rocky and Julie flew from Lagos, Nigeria, through the U.S. to South America.  We planned this trip as part of a group of 16 wonderful friends, and bareboat chartered 2 monohull sailboats, (47’ & 41’), and 1 catamaran, (44’). 

Wakia (our boat)

We spent 3 days getting from Lagos to Rio de Janerio via Houston, where we could spend some time seeing old friends, and gathering a few supplies for the trip.  After arriving in Rio, we took chartered vans to the marina in Angra dos Reis, (the “Area of Kings”), provisioned the boats, and left looking for adventure and discovery.  On Day #1, as we crossed the warm waters of the bay looking for wind to fill our sails, we encountered a very large school of dolphins (~50). As we motored along the dolphins dove and rode the waters next to the hull off the boat.  Then the dolphins started jumping and splashing us, and showing off for our cameras.

It was an hour of fun for them and us, and was a positive omen of the good times to come on this journey!  We will not recall all of the adventures of the trip here, but simply summarize our impressions and highlights of the country.

 

Brazil is lush, green mountainous country with a rocky coast and row upon row of mountains rising on the horizon inland.  Although it was raining on the day we arrived, it soon got sunny and hot (~95 degrees F), and remained that way the entire rest of our trip.  There was not much wind in the mornings but we had some fine sailing in the afternoons. 

 Evenings on the boat were cool, although the temperature onshore remained hot and humid.  With the wonderful weather, we took every opportunity to sight-see villages and anchorages along the coast and to snorkel among the rocky shores. 

During mornings, we ate breakfast either ashore or collectively on the boats at anchor.  We would then head off to a new location where we would meet up for lunch, either at a beach or anchorage. 

Afternoons were spent sailing until dark, when would usually “raft” the boats together in a new-found bay and either eat dinner ashore, or collectively grill and “socialize” until the wee hours of the morning. Every day was a new collections of sights, places and experiences, interspersed with a few special stops described below.

 

Parity – One of the first locations we wanted to visit was a very old town at the southwestern edge of the area called Parity.  This was the original port village from which silver and riches were taken from the country back to the old world in the east.  The city has preserved the “old town” area, where motor vehicles cannot travel; where the roads are laid with enormous cobbles; and where even the donkey carts struggle to navigate the streets.  It is a collection of shops, open markets, restaurants and churches, each constructed or restored to its 16^th-17^th century status.  We took slips in a nearby marina, and spent the day exploring the town,

enjoying the sights and sounds from an outdoor café overlooking the bay, and starting our shopping.  During the evening, we ate seafood and beef at a wonderful family restaurant, highlighted by local wines and friendly service.  Our sadness at leaving this town was only highlighted by the fact that we wished we had made it back there, but the rest of our adventure lay to the northeast – toward Rio.

 

Angra dos Reis – After a few days and nights exploring the western coast of the bay, and the bay side of Isle Grande, (an enormous island that protects the entrance of the bay), we stopped back at the marina to port for the night, update our supplies for the upcoming long journey, and to secure final approvals to take the boats 90 miles to the east to Rio.  The Verolme Marina operates next to a large shipyard that was working on two enormous jackup drilling rigs to be used in the booming oil & gas industry off the coast here. 

This port town also serves as the national oil company’s, Petrobras, center for offshore operations, and therefore, the city of Angra is a vibrant, growing community.  While we were there for the night, we decided to travel via taxi into the central part of the city for dinner, (the cab driver’s brother’s restaurant?), where we were left at a local seafood restaurant in the middle of town.  We took a table outside in the courtyard overlooking the street, ordered our meals, and were pleasantly surprised as a “Blocko” can passing by us! 

Blockos are carnivale street-parades that are usually founded by a neighborhood group, who arranges traveling musical entertainment and a large number of costumed Samba dancers, and are joined by revelers singing, dancing, and traveling down the street.  Everyone was friendly, joyful and entertaining – a small slice of the local festival season, as seen from a local point of view.

 

Rio de Janiero – The long journey to Rio starts with an anchorage the night before at the eastern most bay of Isle Grande.  Since there are no ports between Angra and Rio, we needed to plan for a trip that would leave as much margin as possible for potentially unfavorable conditions or equipment breakdowns.  We estimated that the trip would take 10-14 hours, and that we would convoy the boats together up the coast.  We left anchorage at 5:00am, and for the first time on the trip, everyone stayed alert, (and sober), for the day’s journey.  However, all went well, and it was a remarkable hour at 3:00pm as we motored along Rio’s famous beaches of Barra, Sao Conrado, Leblon, Ipanema and Copacabana, waving to the throngs on the shore. 

 Our Catamaran sailing past Copacabana Beach

We then spotted the world famous landmark of Cristo Redeemer on Corcovado above the city, rounded Sugarloaf Mountain and sailed into Marina Gloria to our slips in the city. 

From here, we spent 4 days in the city, exploring the beaches and restaurants, shopping and seeing the city’s famous sights.  The beach is everyone’s favorite destination, and Brazilians spend as much time there as possible with as little on as they need.  Although the beaches are numerous and very large, there is barely room to walk to make your way to the water.  Other highlights while there included a marathon jeep tour, which took us through the sights in the city into the middle of another Blocko in the area of Saint Teresa, allowed us to visit Cristo & Jardin botanical gardens and waterfall, and allowed us to watch the landing of parasails off the mountain onto the beach. 

  Aquaduct and church (the triangluar structure)

 Copacababa Beach – a mass of humanity

 An amazing sand castle

On Sunday night before Mardi Gras, we all traveled from the marina via Rio’s excellent subway system to the Sambadromo, a dedicated facility just for Carnivale’s Samba competition.  The competition involves 12 Samba Studios that compete on two nights, (6 each night – Sunday and Monday).  They have ~75 minutes each to “present” themselves to the judges and the crowds of 10’s of thousands in the Sambadromo stands, (and 100’s of thousands outside), that have gathered.  Each Samba Studio’s presentation includes traveling up the Sambadromo 8-lane-wide avenue, with ~6 huge, animated, elaborate floats interspersed each with groups of ~500 Samba dancers in ornate feathered costumes, all while the same 30 second Studio samba theme booms over the speakers. 

During the presentation, everyone stands, waves the Studio’s flag and sings their theme’s words in their support.  The presentations start at 9:00pm, and at ~85 minutes each, with ~15 minutes between each, take until daybreak the next morning.  We left before the end at 5:00am, and the crowd had lost little of its numbers or energy level!  It was definitely an experience like no other in the world!

 

Porto Frado – We regretfully left Rio for the long day’s journey back to Angra dos Reis.  After an uneventful return, we did, however, have time to explore a few other interesting ports, one of which impressed us most, was a resort at Porto Frado at the southwestern end of Angra.  By this point, our boat was on our own, and so we decided to explore some poorly defined areas on the map.  The resort at Porto Frado is recent, and is now home to one of the most impressive collection of opulent yachts that one is likely to come across.  Apparently, wealth, (legally or illegally obtained), is difficult to export from Brazil, and so many of the areas wealthiest opt to purchase ridiculously huge, (100’ to 200’ long), custom yachts, outfitted with every convenience known to man, to which they helicopter in for a day’s relaxation or evening dinner.  We, on the other hand, took a mooring ball away from the dock, but ate dinner at their local dockside restaurant, people-watched, and toured their facilities and shops. 

 From there, we sailed back for a last night at port in a little fishing village on Isle Grande, where we purchased ~10 lbs of fresh shrimp.  With the last of our veggies and grilled on the barbeque, we ate our final dinner in Brazil, as we watched the sun set over our stern behind the mountains on the mainland. 

Tomorrow, we would return the boat, and begin the long series of flights back to Africa.