Rodizio and Feijoada in Rio: Number 186 of the 1000 places to see before you die

This is all about food, glorious food. So……first on the rank- rodizio which means “rotation” This style is about lots of waiters walking around with a piece of cooked meat carving it directly to your plate. Add a buffet of seafood, salads, breads, desserts and soup…its basically an upmarket BBQ (churrascarai given we are in Brazil) delivered straight to your plate.

the restaurant



My night to experience this was at a restaurant called Porcao , aptly meaning “big pig” which first started slicing up the meat in Rio in 1975 and now has locations in Italy, Switzerland, Germany, France, Portugal, and the United States.

Suffice to say, the style makes you one big pig. While only a few slivers of each meat is delivered there were about 10 skewers with hunks of sirloin through to brisket circulating at any one time. You are given a disc when you arrive which is basically a “yes……feed me” sign in green and a “no…im full” in red. At this stage of the night I was a green sign.

Divine!!  

Now for the next- feijoada. Not for the fainthearted this is a Saturday delicacy. So off I trooped to the recommended Caesar Park Hotel in Ipanema, Rio to try this. I was rather lucky that it was the weekend before Carneval so the hotel had put on a special Carneval Feijoada lunch- not cheap at some $200- but it came with one of the top Samba schools dancing- full on band, samba girls and boys, the owner (and his son) and their flag bearer, unlimited caipirinhas, school t-shirt and a few feathers. Beija-Flor Samba school was hotly tipped to be one of the leading contenders at the forthcoming Carneval- and in fact went on that week to win top spot at the 2011 Carneval.


the owner, son and leading flag carrier



But first- to review feijoada. Now this Brazilian national dish is a black bean stew with pork and beef, which originates from Portugal. At the hotel they had big earthenware pots containing the beans….then…get ready….equally as large pots of pigs ears, tripe, smoked sausage, unsmoked sausage, pigs tail, beef tongue, pork loin, pork cutlet, beef, dried beef and trotters. You mixed and matched as you felt free.

While a novelty, this is not a gourmet looking dish- the beans are black, all of the meat stews are brown, and then there is white rice or yellow cassava flour to put on the base. Presentation and flavour (other than that overwhelmingly of meat) is not in feijoada’s favour.

I forgot as it was to take a photo of it all on my plate because at that moment out came a samba girl and boy…..and this was more of a highlight…


So, both reviewed. Should they be in the top 1000 places to see before you die?

I have to say a thumbs down on this. While they may well represent the national dish, and a Brazilian way of eating….none the less paella in spain doesn’t appear in the book, neither does vegemite and cheese sandwich on bondi beach (personally Id put that in the 1000 things people should experience) so I think that you shouldn’t lose any sleep if this was one of the things that you went to your deathbed without experiencing!

However....samba boys and girls should be in there....but then Carneval Rio is my next blog!

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Copacabana Palace Hotel, Rio: Number 185 from the 1000 place to see before you die

This, I fear, is going to be an easy review. I might have been slightly jaded as they had decided to close Copacabana Palace Hotel for the weekend for outside guests due to Carneval so I was turned away when first I arrived in the afternoon (nice sunny shot below)……so I had to make do with a photo outside the hotel only.

However, far be for me to admit defeat, I then called Quintessentially to see if they could work some swift magic………job done I had my dinner (that’s the next blog…) and took my meat laden stomach over to the hotel……but the concierge was all blank faces so off I went again cajoling my way in….all the way to the top general manager (you’d really think they had better things to do than be bothered with one discretionary entrance into their bar by a tourist for a martini).

Twenty mins later, after quite a few “why bother” moments in my head, I finally gained entrance into the inner sanctum, feeling like I had done ten rounds with Mike Tyson, and definitely needing a stiff martini!!!

As it was only about 10pm and therefore way too early to go to their in-house disco- I contented myself with sitting in the outdoor bar at the pool. It was a lovely pool- not sure about the double rows of loungers lined up like the Riviera…but given that it was cloistered in the centre of the building I guess space is a premium.

Their website says

“Superbly positioned overlooking the sea, this glamorous Orient-Express landmark in Rio has been welcoming the rich and famous since its Art Deco doors swung open in 1923. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers danced here and the Rolling Stones tuned up in its grand salon before their concert on the beach.
 
The magnificent pool, with its adjacent super-cool Bar do Copa, are where Brazil’s style setters gather to soak up the sun. The hotel’s restaurants are also destinations in themselves, whether for great local dishes or fine Italian dining in Hotel Cipriani Restaurant. “

I didn’t get to see inside a room (felt that Id pushed my luck as it was) so could only judge it on the restaurant, bar, pool and lobby………………………………………….I have to say- the hotel is perhaps iconic (or is it just that the name is known because of the beach its on)….and on that subject of THAT beach….how is it that Barry Manilo’s lyrics go

“At the Copa (CO!), Copacabana (Copacabana)
The hottest spot north of Havana (here)
At the Copa (CO!), Copacabana
Music and passion were always the fashion
At the Copa....they fell in love”

Since when is Rio north of Havana? Interesting. Perhaps his hot Copa spot is not here in Rio.

Anyhow- back to the Copacabana Palace Hotel- it is just another 5 star hotel and I don’t really think, given how many there are of those in the world, that it should be included unless it provides something really superlative (Burj Al Arab  would be one that fits in that vein for instance).

So………………..I don’t think it should be in the 1000 places to see before you die

Carneval, Salvador de Bahia, Brazil: Number 184 of the 1000 places to see before you die

Carnaval in Salvador da Bahia, Brazil is, according to the Guinness Book of Records, the world’s biggest street party. Some 800,000 visitors flood into the city from throughout the world and in total some 2 million people will celebrate throughout 25 kilometers of streets, avenues and squares.

Occurring around Lent every year its pretty much a week of parties. Id been scared senseless by all the warnings- from Quintessentially suggesting I needed a security guard, through to friends telling me I needed to carry nothing and put money down my knickers through to others suggesting that watching it on TV was the safest way of seeing any Carneval in South America. I, of course, ignored all- although I think in this photo you can see my money in my bra!!

I warmed up slowly by going to a street party the night before Carneval started. Thousands and thousands of people littering the street, some wild costumes, tents selling nothing but beer, every now and again a band pushing its way through the throng with all these people in the same coloured tshirts dancing behind them in a roped off area as they moved.  It was a nice, slightly chaotic way to start Carneval.

When one thinks of Carneval they picture brown gyrating bottoms and a lot of peacocks and ostriches who didn’t see the end of the year.  But its the Rio one that is all samba and costumes.  Salvador Carneval is actually known for “Trios Eléctricos”. This concept started in 1953 as a result of two musicians who decided to go out into the streets playing on top of an open float. The idea caught on and since then Salvador’s Carneval is like one big moving rock festival. On each of some 60 foot long semi trailers, spaced at regular intervals,  there is a popular and famous Brazilian singer accompanied by scantily dressed dancers and a full band belting out their hits from some 10 metres high in the air as the truck drives down the street.

There is a choice of how to watch the Carneval in the area I went to. Either join a bloco (which involves being in a roped off area behind the singer’s truck…along with another truck holding a bar and toilets…and walk in this space, wearing a group t-shirt and dancing all the way around the route) - or in camarotes- which are grandstands lining the street that the trucks drive down. Of course there is also the final way of doing it which is just mill around in the streets watching the trucks and blocos past….but this is definitely the least safest way.

I decided to do the camarote thing. Now Carneval isn’t cheap….this was some $500 dollars for entrance to the camarote I was in - Camarote Salvador, which is the biggest and the best. I'd been given different views as to what a camarote was - one person said it was a grandstand I was going into (which was sort of correct as it turns out), another a balcony (also correct)…but I think either of those English translations misses the entire thing.

 

My camarote was a huge area containing…..and here I'm hoping that I didn’t miss any areas…. a massage tent, a makeup stage, a hairdressers stage, a nightclub, a ginormous tent serving up unlimited food from sushi to iberia ham, a vodka bar, a beer bar replete with a stuffed camel, an alcoholic fruit cocktail stand, a kodak photo stand, a band stage, a few cars being given away, a corporate area, a dressup costume area with photo stage, a beach with outdoor DJ, loungers and palms, massive screens playing anything from Red Bull Extreme Sports Movie clips through to images following the theme of the night (Egyptian), entertainers, you name it, it was there!

massages



nightclub

photo on the devassa beer camel



the martini boys

Add to that- multi tiered red carpeted open balconies running the length of the circa 150m enclosure so that you were level or higher than the trucks coming down the street, waiters circulating with bottles of Ballantyne’s or Vodka and mixers……amazing night.

Now after hob nobbing with the hoi polloi, dancing with strangers (synchronised dancing seemed to be very popular amongst the girls……..also quite worringly silver and blue eyeshadow!) and, given that few people in Brazil seem to speak English- talking to myself a fair bit I crawled out at around 5am- very merry and happy. However suggest you don’t do a camarote by yourself- grab a friend as its more fun!



dj on the beach



an entertainer



from the beach looking up at the triple storey camarote



having my makeup done......blue eyeshadow seemed to be the theme!



getting my characture done



the band inside the  camarote



beach area in the camarote



the amazing vodka fruit caipirinha stall in the camarote





dress up zone for some department store



Should it stay in the 1000 places to see before you die book….yes!!

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Pelourinho, Salvador de Bahia, Brazil: No 183 from the 1000 places to see before you die book

Egg yolk yellow, crimson red, tropical aquamarine, vibrant purple…not the shades you would normally see houses painted. Yet in the old city of Salvador de Bahia, a World Heritage site since 1985, a jumble of partly and fully restored  17th and 18th century houses have been given a vibrant colour makeover, which is only enhanced by the filigree iron railings and random Banksy style paintings on some of their walls.

The city, founded on the back of the slave trade and retaining its African roots with a Portugese twist, is easily the most fascinating of the Brazilian cities Ive seen so far on this trip.  Home to some 2.7million people and the third largest city in Brazil, it has the largest black population outside Africa as a result of being a key port in the West Indian slave route as well as a major user of slaves for the  nearby sugar plantations.  More than 80% of the inhabitants have black African ancestry and this African cultural heritage has became intertwined with that of the Portugese such that today there is a fantastic blend  especially noticeable during their carnevals (see my subsequent article).

I’d arrived late on a Tuesday - Mass night it turns out- which is party night!! Deeply Catholic, the city is full of churches, including one whose interior is all gold leaf. The streets were full of people gossiping and partying, spilling out of bars onto the cobbled streets clutching beers and caipirinhas while drum and percussion bands played – a warm up for the forthcoming Carneval. A dramatic transformation from the daytime I discovered the following day when the area seemed largely to hold tourist related shops and hotels but with few inhabitants.

I’d arrived late on a Tuesday - Mass night it turns out- which is party night!!  Deeply Catholic, the city is full of churches, including one whose interior is all gold leaf. The streets were full of people gossiping and partying, spilling out of bars onto the cobbled streets clutching beers and caipirinhas while drum and percussion bands played – a warm up for the forthcoming Carneval.  A dramatic transformation from the daytime I discovered the following day when the area seemed largely to hold tourist related shops and hotels but with few inhabitants.


I was staying at an amazing hotel- the one mentioned in the book for its character I was informed by my concierge service Quintessentially that it wasn’t in the best area of town and recommended a different place. A former friary, the Pestano Convento was now beautifully restored and gracing a Leading Small Hotels of the World badge.  A stunning centre courtyard full of tropical plants was flanked by slender white columns and ornate filigree stone. Constructed pre cement days in 1586 you could still see bits of shell in the sea sand used for the construction.

Of course, the best hotel in town also attracts the best hookers!!

And so I was, quietly enjoying my pineapple caiprinhi one evening in the hotel while awaiting a friend who was picking me up to see a bloco (street party) later on, when all of a sudden “heavies” swarmed in. You know the type- black suits, black shirts, sunglasses on, standing back to the wall and spreading out their “its better if you leave” aura. When the body count had gone over ten I decided it was time to leave …but then the first girl was escorted into the bar.


Now Brazil is, as we all know, is famous for plastic surgery. Personally  I don’t think blogs should be like some self indulgent, life long masturbation session as you follow me around the world quite a few times - so a few facts as we go along the path of 1000 places to see before you die is beneficial to stop such a trend. In August 2010, the International Society of Aesthetic Plastic Surgery published the first global study of plastic surgery (note that this counts surgical and non surgical processes) and the top 3 by number of total procedures was USA, China then Brazil.

I have to admit seeing some gravity and “natural gifts” defying tits n ass while I was there but in fact, when it comes to Brazilian women, even if their faces aren’t perfect they seem to get away with it due to a few commonalities … short hair doesn’t seem to exist on women under 50…so glossy blowdried tresses falling below the shoulder is the norm, short skirts no matter what the age,  killer heels despite the cobblestones and a passion for bustiers or white or fluorescent bras under unbuttoned shirts, oversized handbags, loads of accessories, dresses or short short short shorts only……  You get the picture!  I wonder what theyd think of the comment a fellow boarder of mine once said to me when I was about 15…….. “Let the men see you in tracky (tracksuit) pants and without makeup - after that everything is an improvement!!”

Anyhow, turns out this girl (and a few others) were “dial-in”- pre-ordered for (…or should that be ….by???!!)  an easily recognisable African head of state who was having dinner at the hotel. Sadly as he and his goons could probably hunt me down through the web, I shall resist doing a name and shame.

Salvador is actually the headquarters of capoeira- that rather odd- to- watch dancing style of martial arts. The form emerged as a way of slaves defending themselves and a hope for survival should they escape- however such practices were banned so the addition of music and dance to the martial arts allowed its real purpose to be hid. The word incidentally translates to “chicken coop.”

Anyhow, thoroughly recommend the hotel- even despite the pool being in the middle of the priory and the “dial-ins”- the breakfast alone made the place worth the cost.  Another great find was Paraiso Tropical Restaurant  a short drive away from Pelourinho in Resgate.

Amazingly fresh food using produce from their extensive gardens- their moqueca de beto (the owner’s name) was sublime. And at the end of the meal-  a complimentary fruit platter. My Brazilian friend struggled to find English names for some of the fruits which Id never seen in my life before (apparently not that common in Brazil either which is a great sign)…but the ones I recognised included jackfruit, custard apples, mangoes, nectarines, papaya and pineapple to name but a few.

Now….the summation…should it go or should it stay in the 1000 places to see before you die?  Well….it is a UNESCO World Heritage site so yes on that basis alone….If you’re in Brazil while Salvador is having  one of their many  carnevals?- definitely worth flying up to;  Are you thinking you need to see the top 50 in the book?- Pelourinho wouldn’t be in that list- but would be in the top 5 places to see while you are in Brazil I feel. It was for me easily the best place in Brazil I’d seen given its diversity (not to mention the shopping!!).

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Pantanal & Caiman Ecological Lodge, Brazil: Number 182 from the 1000 places to see before you die book

I sure was getting my dose of avarians on this trip- from the wetlands of the Okavango Delta ….now to the world’s largest wetlands- the Pantanal in Brazil. Home to species which grow larger here than anywhere in South America- including jaguars, wolves, and armadillos- through to others which have been largely hunted to extinction in other parts of the continent- ajnirus, rheas…and those lovely coatis I pictured at the Iguazu Falls article.

Im a bit of a sucker for looking at either wildlife, plants or the top of a martini glass when Im travelling and this trip was boding well. While the 1000 places to see before you die book had recommended the Caiman Ecological Refuge as the base, it sadly in this season was only rentable as an entire house….and was probably in the book as it was the first eco lodge in Brazil…so better to try some others anyhow. I had been booked instead into the Zagaia Eco Resort in Bonito. 

It was thrilling to watch the landscape change from the huge sprawling metropolis that was Sao Paolo, home to some 11 million people, a concrete high rise jungle drifting kilometre after kilometre before finally giving way to a string of islands and bays and finally the green green grass of the Patanal. The area, aside from being an ecological sanctuary, is also home to Brazilian cowboys known as "pantaneros". I was looking forward to having some churrasco served up by some hairy chested, accented, olive skinned, fit, cowboy hat wearing man who might offer to take me riding later on.  

Unfortunately, stressed and grumpy after a 4am start, I arrived at the resort at 5pm to find it was not what had been featuring in my dreams. More like the place youd book for a team bonding session, a conference, or a middle income bunch of families having holidays together where the boys played golf, the girls had massages, and the kids played in the pool. Eeek. I had one of those T² moments (toy throwing!) with my concierge service (all though bless Quintessentially  - im not sure many of their members have as diverse and bizarre requests as me for so many countries in the world)....and, confident that wheels were turning fast to get me out of a place with piped pool music, I sat back with a caiprinha and read a book.

Next morning was an early start as a driver came to pick me up to transport me 200km further north. Oddly Brazil seemed to have this whole network of people who drove people incredibly long distances. Quintessentially had given me a choice of a $6000 private charter to fly 2 hours to one fazenda (working farm....read...cowboys!!)  in the Pantanal....or about $200 to drive to another fazenda 2 hours up the track. I took the car option as I was intrigued as to what the second ride would be like. On the first trip my driver had spent all three and a half hours looking at his phone or reading a bill while flicking up and down through South American music channels playing music I couldnt understand,all the while driving at 160km/hour. My portugese is non existent- as was his English......so I spent most of the ride gritting my teeth and praying.  My second one was a treat- sticking to what seemed a more reasonable speed of 110 km/hr he cracked his knuckles constantly while listening to 'break your heart type' songs the whole way. Now if Id been in the car with a girlfriend we perhaps could have had a blast singing our hearts out and having competitions as to who sang the songs ( choruses of some of them included "making love out of nothing at all," "2 out of 3 aint bad," "please dont go, Im begging you to stay" ).

As it was, after enjoying a solo breakfast at the resort on a table seated for 5, being in a country where I was struggling to communicate (I had studied spanish once for 6 months but that was 25 years ago and it didnt really make understanding portugese any easier), trying to sort out a couple of tickets to europe and asia as well as some work issues, all it did was made me feel more alone on the road.

That was all to change when I checked into the fabulous Pousada Aguape in the western Pantanal . In Joao’s family for 160 years, the fazenda, or ranch, was a sprawling 3 million hectares which until 50 years ago had no electricity. It was exactly the experience that I needed. After a lovely lunch of chicken and beans (beans were to be on every meal I later discovered) I saddled up my horse. Now johnies and i get on very well, and Johny Walker, my horse, was to prove no different. Outfitted with a pantanero hat kindly provided by Joao I set out with Erasmo for a three hour ride in the pantanal.

Now the pantanal, according to Lonely Planet, has the greatest concentration of fauna in the New World. Some 230,000 square kilometres- thats about half the size of France- which lies largely uninhabited and is a protected ecological area. I was here in the wet season when the waters had reached their high mark of some 3m. As a result of all the water- its a large alluvial basin in essence- farming was limited to cattle of which there are some 200 million in Brazil. Aguape had about 2000 zebu cattle from India (80% of cows in Brazil are this breed), 70 horses, 20 pantaneros and...no guests!! The odds were looking good!!

The first afternoon's ride was great- a lot of birds including jabirus,the world's largest storks and familiar to me from north Australia and a family of capybaras, the world's largest rodent weighing up to 70kg,  eating on the banks. Coming back some 8 large bright blue hyacinth macaws, over a metre in length and the....you guessed it....largest macaw in the world, were having a squabble match in the horse supplements trough while underneath my feet an armidillo blindly wandered.

   Dawn hadn't yet broken the next morning when I jumped eagerly on Johny at 5am. Of course, that was in my dream- the reality was a sleep deprived me- caffeine laden, gingerly walking like I had a butternut squash up my doo daa, groaned my way a couple of metres in the air to the top of Indiana Jones -my nag for the day- while bitterly swearing to a bunch of cowboys who couldnt understand a word but got the gist!  At least this time they had outfitted me on an amazing pantanero saddle (think English saddle with half a merino sheep put over it to help with butt soreness).

One of the beautiful things about staying on a fazenda, as opposed to joining a tour, is that they put on all the "normal" activities of a tour (horseriding, piranha fishing, boat trip, night safari, day safari)..................but allow you to do a few different things- spending a day with the pantaneros mustering the cattle, driving a horse driven carriage into town to buy groceries and lying around in a hammock by the pool. Bliss- and in that vein I cant recommend where I stayed enough.

It was a nice slow 3 hour amble to go out to where the cattle were that needed moving. The pantaneros were every girl's dream- faded denims, leather chaps and white rolled up shirts showing off their olive skins, jaunty straw hats on their heads sporting a fancy feather, the older generation an advert for the Marlboro Man smoking away under their moustaches which grew largely untamed on their leathered faces, every now and again one reaching behind their back where, tucked tightly in place by a brightly coloured sash, lay a razor sharp knife which they hacked overhanging palms with.

  

    

Cattle rounded up and briefly penned we dismounted for brunch. Chopping off a leaf they gestured I was to shovel up the cassava flour and put a bitesize chunk of cooked beef in my mouth. Hmmm. I stuck with the beef. Then a communal cow horn mug filled with tea leaves, splashed with cold water was produced along with a silver straw. Chi on the range!! It wasnt anything like iced tea but the straw did a good job of straining it. Several refills later, food and hunger satiated, we remounted the horses to drive the cattle home. I was getting the hang of mustering, along with, in parts, galloping ankle deep- thats my ankle- the horse was up to its chest in water, to stop errant cattle.  There was something deeply relaxing, walking behind these bulls, creamy sacks of skin falling down their throats to their knees like an old woman's turkey jowls, a large hump of muscle on their necks resembling a walrus’s nose and foot long pendulous balls banging mercilessly on their haunches as they meandered through the grass.

It was even more exhilarating when diving into one patch to move a bull back into the herd I flushed out an anteater. Now I always thought these things were small...but the pantanal has giant anteaters (of course!) and it was a good 2 metres long, beautiful long snout with this huge bushy black tail feathering parallel behind it.

 

Arriving back at camp at midday I scoffed down some food (fell  in love with their bean casserole) before drifting into an afternoon nap while the sun continued to scorch the earth.  The afternoon agenda was to catch some piranha for sashimi and piranha soup. Id been looking forward to trying my luck at this since I came so we scrapped the boat trip up river for another day and headed out in a dinghy to kill the suckers. Caymans drifted closer to observe us, their snouts barely rising above the surface of the water as they lazily circled us and then...tug tug tug. Teal tipped damsel flies were rudely thrown off my rod as I hurled in my first of what was to be 9 piranhas later. Piranhas my host gleefully told me "are the Viagra for the pantaneros".  Hmmm!!!

The next few days followed a similar vein- I swapped bush walking safari and horse carriage for a few more days out with the pantaneros mustering, great food and chat every night and a very relaxed me that left 4 days later to head to Salvador to tick a few more of the 1000 places to see before you die book.

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