Last Stop: Tropical Buzios, Paradise Found

Alas, all good things must come to an end. And so I bid a final farewell to Brazil as I sunk my toes into the warm sands of Buzios-a quaint, coastal city 2 hours south of Rio de Janeiro. Known for stretches of fine white sand, half-moon bays, sparkling waters, and unique marine life, Buzios and the beaches of the Costa do Sul, was a tranquil paradise.

After carpooling down with a van full of tourists from Rio, I dumped my bags (and my abnormally large box with the ceramic chicken inside, lest you forget) at the inn, and headed out to explore the town. I think I was having an artistic flare-up that day. I couldn't stop photographing a) boats, and b) windows and doors. In fact, that's pretty much all I have to show for my time in Buzios. Have a peak...
I took a taxi downtown and enjoyed strolling along the waterfront--

admiring the charm of everything around me. Small. Artsy. Breezy. Lazy. Colorful.

And when I'd had my fill of boats (yeah, I realize I just posted a whole, heck of a lot of boats), I got wrapped up in windows and doors. Here are my favorite picks of the day.

Yes indeed. I spent well over an hour photographing some local abodes until I finally got it out of the old system.

I spent the next day doing the unthinkable. Since I didn't have the time or money to go out on a fancy-pants adventure to secluded islands or isolated beaches, I went on a boat ride. Another dang boat ride. Yes, it was voluntary. And yes, I just happened to choose Buzios' Party Boat, at that.

Yep, here's a sampler of the fine people with whom I got to share my outing. I felt like a fish out of water. Like an Eskimo in the desert. A Lone Ranger of sorts. For starters, I was alone. I didn't drink, and I had "grandma's" bathing suit on underneath my clothes. Which meant that I sat awkwardly and fully-clothed between posh honeymooners, large vacationing families, babe & hunk tag-teams, and of course an array of older folks who were not afraid to let it all hang out and shake it to ethnic dance music.

So here I am in all my glory. Now I'm gonna go ahead and share a small observation I made. I noticed multiple women on board the Party Ship who were sporting a new look that I hadn't seen before--they had their pant-flies unzipped and their waistbands rolled down, as to reveal an ever-so-slight glimpse of their bathing suits underneath. Now I figured since I couldn't take off my pants at that point (out of sheer embarassment), that I might as well jump on board the bandwagon and become one with Buzios' trend-setting, boat scene. So in an effort to fit in, the fly came down. Have a look (don't judge).

But in reality, I don't think this helped. In fact, I felt weird. And I thought I caught a few awkward glimpses coming my way... I guess I just couldn't pull off "the look" quite like I had planned.

And then I saw various honeymooning couples posing for the camera on the front tip of the boat. They had their arms flung around one another, hair blowing in the wind, with plenty of sexy, South-American swimming attire to flaunt in all the right places. It just looked like the 'happening' thing to do at the time, so I waited in line for my own photo opp'....and like I said, I just didn't fit the description on that boat. I couldn't portray The Image. I was in fact the Lone, Whitey with the unzipped fly.

But I'm okay with that. There are times and places where we're going to feel on the outs. We're going to try to fit in, but fail. So why not run with it?

The scenery, on the other hand, was gorgeous. We sailed out as far around the cape as the choppy waters would allow us, grasping tight to the railings as we were tossed about. We then pulled into various beaches so that people could jump ship, cool off, and snorkel.

Uh-huh. I was still sitting on the boat, in the tiny spot I had carved out for myself, imagining how wonderful the sparkling turquoise water would feel...

But it was all worth it when the whales showed up. A beautiful mother and child pair at that, followed by a handful of others. My new friend, Bruna, a young marine biologist on board (who just happened to have lived in DC for a year), had been tracking the migration patterns of these awe-inspiring creatures for several months. She was ecstatic to find them, and I was too.

I spent a care-free evening in the downtown section of the city, where quaint streets, unique artisan shops, and plenty of fine dining establishments made for a great time. And it was here, that I may, or may not have, decided to complete my Brazilian beach experience buy buying the perfect, racy, South-American swim suit of my very own. Given the peer pressure on board the Party Ship earlier that day, my less-than-sightly appearance from weeks of travel, and the excessive prevalence of swim shops dotting every square inch of the city, I figured that I had best get my act together and do as the locals-- one last time.

And so I may, or may not have, done just that! You'll never know!

It was then back to the inn; my favorite of the entire trip. Located right beside the beach, these colorful bungalows let me nod off and wake up to the sound of ocean waves ...and screaming children peering in from the pool outside my window. I learned to make good use of the blinds.

At dusk, I took off for a stroll along the water to watch the sky light up.

This has always been my favorite time of day. There' s just something about the light that captures and illuminates the sky at sunset,

when it becomes entangled in the clouds and in the water. And then I did what I had done nearly every night since I arrived in Brazil; I watched and I watched and I watched. Until every color yielded to the night sky and was gone. The most peaceful and perhaps pensive night yet. A proper farewell, if you will.

Farewell to an experience that caught me in the act of laughing, exploring, learning, tasting, trying, seeing, feeling, and even believing.

The next morning before I left, I played in the ocean for the first and last time on my trip. You heard right. For the first and the last time, I let the salty waves sting my eyes and have their way with me. It was freedom in its most unadulterated form. I guess I just needed to save the best for last.

And that I did. Perhaps I even did it in a racy, Brazilian bathing suit. You'll never know...

Flying High in Rio

After the rush of Iguassu, I turned around and flew back up to Rio de Janeiro for a few days. I felt at ease since I had already become somewhat familiar with the territory upon my arrival in the country. And being that I had already hit up the major tourist attractions, I felt free to sit back and take in the city on my own terms. And that I did.

I got the brilliant idea to shake things up a bit. I had previously seen hang-gliders fly down from a certain mountain top and land on the beach below. It looked fun. It looked a little sketchy. And so I called up the flying company and decided to book a flight.

After signing my life away, my flight instructor drove me up the mountain, making a quick pit stop at his house to pick up our flying vessel and strap it to the top of the car. It only looked slightly mangled and worn, but he assured me that I could trust in its resilience. It had successfully flown many naive tourists down the mountain to safety. And I was the next in line-
Unfortunately, when we reached the jump-off point, the fog was simply too dense for us to take off. We waited, what seemed like an eternity, for a clearing.

A good two hours later, after receiving my flying lesson, learning basic hangliding lingo, and stewing for a while in anticipation

the run-way opened its doors for business. And so there I hung like a lifeless creature, strapped in, and fully expecting to become entangled in my own nerves. But instead of jitters, I felt the total absence of emotion. I replayed the guide's instructions inside my head:

1) Grab on to his shoulder 2) Run as fast I can down the ramp 3) Don't stop running when the ramp in front of me ends. And whatever I do, don't pull back...It'll screw up the flight. And that will be bad.

Check!

And so we ran off the mountain together...into the dispersing fog; the tiny, insignificant world far below us.

Completely surreal. Freedom in its finest form. Nothing below our feet but air.

Gentle breezes and the rush of a calm silence surrounded me. From up here, everything took on a different light. We placed our trust in nothing but the wind.

So of course I had to pose for the camera just a bit--

and pull the famous "no-hands" stunt.

After several minutes, we approached the ocean.

and prepared ourselves for landing.

My body was only dragged in the sand, and twisted around my guide, for a few, very awkward moments.

So if you're ever in Rio, or travelling to any other mountainous destination, I highly recommend taking the plunge. It was the highlight of my entire trip.

So then it was off to explore some new neighborhoods, including Visconde de Piraja Street, one of many boulevards equipped with an eclectic array of shopping and dining. I did do my homework, and was not disappointed.

The painted bulls on the streets added a nice touch to the experience.

It was later in the day that I decided to hop a local bus to take me out to "Barra Shopping," aka the largest shopping mall in all of South America. Now come on people, doesn't it sound like one heck of a way to blow an afternoon? What I didn't realize was how far outside of Rio this mall was located. Had I known, I would have passed on the trip. But alas, we never know until we try. And so a very entertaining hour's drive later, and with the help of a fellow bus passenger, I arrived at Barra Shopping ready for my extraordinary retail experience. And I'm not going to lie. This shopping connoisseur was a little underwhelmed.

But I made the best of it, purchased a $7 scoop of ice-cream (unbeknownst to me, and yes, details like this do leave a lasting impression in my mind), and headed back to try and navigate my way home. The night sky was dark as I pushed my way through hoards of people,waiting for what seemed like an infinite number of buses that I couldn't keep track of.

If I ever was stressed out on my journey, this would be one of those moments. The streets around me turned into a chaotic amusement park, filled with formations of tired people wrapped around the sidewalks in a blurry mass of humanity. And the fact that I didn't know which combination of buses I was supposed to catch, where I needed to catch them, or when I needed to disembark, did not help the situation. And finally, let's factor in a rainstorm. Yes, that would paint the picture quite nicely.

But I paint this picture for you, only because I find that it is in these times of momentary travel chaos and frenzy, that we find out what we're made of. And we learn in the end that there really isn't a whole lot that we can't eventually figure out and overcome with a little patience and perseverance. Life lesson here? You betcha.

Was I glad to have made the Barra Shopping excursion? Well..... no. I still would have passed! But I did make it home safely, after getting off at the wrong stop and meandering the downtown streets for a good 2 miles to get home...

The next day, I did the unthinkable. I succumbed in a momentary lapse of judgment. I did what tourists are supposed to do when in Rio. I went to the beach. Not just any beach. THE beach. Where everybody who's anybody in Rio goes to show the colors and flaunt the results of their latest workout regimen. Oh yes I did.

I had successfully avoided the beach scene in this city altogether. Now don't get me wrong. I love the beach. Just not the beaches that I'm supposed to love. Call it the stubbornness inside of me. Call it what you will. But with a few hours to kill, I decided to bite the bullet and complete my Rio package experience the right way.

So here's the proof. I walked onto the sand, looked around for a while at the rolling mountains and ominous clouds hovering above, talked to a homeless man, and then happily checked the heck out of there.

And honestly, I picked the prefect day to do it. No crowds, no trash, no naked bodies in my face. In fact, I think I might have had a mini-moment there on that beach all by myself.

I had successfully completed my tourist experience with flying colors. And now I could leave happy--onto the last leg of my journey. My true beach experience in tropical Buzios.

Foz de Iguassu, a hefty dose of waterfalls...

I left beautiful Salvador bright and early in the morning, hopped a plane, and landed in Foz de Iguassu around 5pm the same day. Another long day of travel. Once I arrived, I was whisked away and taken straight to Iguassu Falls--on the Brazilian side of the park. I had no idea what to expect. And I was completely blown away.

Pardon the cliche, but the first glimpse I had of this section of the falls took my breath away. I was speechless. I have never witnessed anything more magnificent in nature. Never, ever, ever.

They stretched on for miles.

I walked along carved-out paths, stopping at various look-out points to observe brand new and glorious sections of the falls around every corner.

It was truly endless.

I feel totally justified in posting all these pictures of waterfalls. Totally and completely. In fact, there was just too much grandeur, and just too little camera to capture it all.

I enjoyed venturing out onto various foot bridges and becoming drenched by the spray of the water.

The park closed at 7pm, so I headed back to the hotel to lounge by the pool and play with the peacocks.

I then decided to leave Tourist-Central behind me and hop a local bus into the small city of Iguassu. And of course while en route, I ran into some Elders, bless their little hearts. I grabbed dinner, meandered at a local shopping mall, and then hopped a bus back home--lucky to have made it home when I did. Let's just leave it at that.

Day two in Iguassu was spectacular. I ventured over to the Argentinian side of the park to witness the falls from a brand new vantage point.

I headed out into the jungle with a tour group in order to hop a boat that would take us as close as possible to the waterfalls.

I was thrilled to see a lone Toucan flying above us in the canopy of trees. They usually steer clear of tourists like us in big safari-like vehicles.

The boat ride jostled us about every which way as it carried us closer and closer to some falls...

and then the camera got tucked away in a plastic bag under my seat. Let me just say that it was a complete rush and a very wet experience.

It was over far too quickly. We were then thrown off the boat and left to hike back to the top.

I guess I should have worn my bathing suit, but I dried off in good time. Once back on top, I meandered amongst paths scurting the falls, observed a variety of bizarre creatures including this poor lil feller below

that looked like a sick cross between a rat and an armadillo,

and was thrilled to stand directly over the mouth of various spouts, to watch the water spill over and rush to the ground.

Lastly, I took a little train to witness the grande finale of the day....

The Garganta do Diabo, or the Devil's throat--the largest and highest point in the falls. I was all pumped up when I got off the train due to "The Mission" soundrack that had been pouring out of cheap speakers.

After a good 20 minute walk across these foot bridges

I heard the sound of raging waters. Yes, the Diabo was approaching.

Spectacular. I have no other words do describe it. I am still confused as to how this is NOT one of the wonders of the world. Baffled really. One could stare and stare and never get tired. I was completely lost in the mesmerizing rush of water.

One could not help but think of the Divine. Of all the beauty in God's creations. And of how powerful He is to rule over it all.