Day 3 Friday

Another day starts with us hanging around  Kuala Lumpur airport.  Mr Nasser of Royal Brunei Airlines has apologised profusely for the problems we have encountered, promised us that our luggage will definitely be put on a plane to Kota Kinabalu as soon as it arrives from Dubai and sent directly to the hotel and also that we shall all have 120 rinngits (£60) to buy essentials while we wait for our cases.  The plane takes off at 10.30am, 30 minutes late.  When we arrive in Kota Kinabalu and are met by Will, she tells us that we are not going to the hotel after all but that we have couple of hours to kill before catching another plane to Sandarkan on the east coast of Borneo.  We are a bit vexed as we will miss the all inclusive day at the 5 star hotel in Kota Kinabalu but we are all like the walking dead by now.  Our feet and ankles are like elephant's legs and we have been wearing the same underwear for 3 days.  Flies are starting to circle round us.  We go down to a small shopping mall to kill time and find a Clark's shoe shop, a Mango, Body Shop, Starbucks, you could have been at Westfield.

Back at the airport and Lynn has become like a professional airport checker.  She is giving points for cleanliness of loos, customer service and quality of free meals from the vouchers we keep getting.  Nul point for Delice de France for allowing us just a cup of coffee for our breakfast voucher.  But we did find an interesting shop selling Birds' Nests and big black things, both great delicacies.

The flight is due to depart at 6.35pm.  Lynn shoots off for a quick comfort break but forgets the time and pops into a shop selling Swarovski jewellery. I am left with all our hand luggage at the desk, everyone else has boarded.  The man at the desk is flapping and asks if my friend is coming, then dashes out to speak to the crew.  Lynn strolls up oblivious and we board at 6.34pm

So here we are, on a small plane with propellers, flying over the rainforest in the dark.  Cynthia, who looks like a jolly Buddha, meets us at the airport and takes us to the hotel.  It is fantastic, so is the outdoor buffet, the rooms, the pool, the Tiger beer, well, everything.  It's all going to be ok.

Day 2 Thursday

I don't know what happened to this day.  It's just a blur of departure lounges, planing and de-planing, trying to sleep, eating to relieve the boredom.  I do remember buying a deodorant at  Body Shop which cost me one week's pension.

Our journey begins

Day 1. Wednesday 12th March 2014

I thought to myself, don't make the same mistake as last time when I left bringing  my case downstairs until 30 minutes before the taxi arrived and the handle fell off when I did.  So I had it ready the night before.  In fact I was congratulating myself on being so proactive and having just a few last minute jobs to do this morning.  I went to set the boiler on to low and saw that the pressure had gone down.  Why?  Well never mind I will just top it up for the time being.  Couldn't remember how though, so I spent some precious time googling and you tubing until I found out how.  Sorted, so now I will just pop up to the bathroom to put my face on, a big job.  What's all that water on the floor?  The radiator had just decided to leak.  x*!*x*!  or words to that effect.  Luckily I do know how to tighten a nut but I could have done without the stress of a last minute plumbing job at this moment in time.

Still, I am ready when Lynn arrives.  As I lock the front door I think, " Right well I'm out of the front door, the holiday starts here".  Lynn is all of a dither.  They've just telephoned the driver to say that our flight has been cancelled and we are flying an hour earlier, from a different terminal on a different airline to Dubai.  What?  We assume that we will be met at Heathrow by a courier with replacement tickets but that's all we know.  My shoulders and neck start seizing up again.

At Heathrow we are indeed met by Ernie who met me on my trip to Nepal.  He was useless then and had not changed much except that he now looked more like 91.  We were told to wait here, sit there, queue there and still no tickets.  So we went to the Emirates desk to find out why we weren't on the passenger list.  There were quite a few passengers in the same situation as us, equally baffled but a nice gentleman took our passports to a desk to sort it out for us. That was good until a small foreign person with a bag bigger than him and a large flat screen TV set on his trolley went straight to the front of the queue.  I was hoping it was a brief query as I don't like to lose my rag too quickly but he started semi shouting about the cost of extra luggage charges,  I proceeded calmly to the front of the queue myself, apologising as I went and explained the situation to the person.  We and many others have been waiting for some time for attention and it was a tad unfair of him to push in.  He gave me a baleful stare and said he needed to sort out his luggage urgently.  My riposte was, that  in   this   country   we   queue, it's what we do in these situations.  He then went off into his own language so I couldn't compete, other than slap him .  So I glared as hard as I could.

Eventually we got our passports back and went to pick up our tickets at the check in, went through security and found a coffee shop.  30 minutes later we were heading for the departure gate hoping that we didn't have a seat next to queue jumping person with large TV set.  Amazingly we are now seated in the middle block of four seats with the other 2 seats empty.  So we shall be sprawling out later on.  Good selection of the latest films and a gin and tonic in front of me so I will sign off for now while I enjoy..

4am local time in Dubai and after a long walk to another terminal, we finally find the Royal Brunei desk where we are supposed to collect our onward flight tickets.  Unfortunately, this Royal Brunei flight has also been cancelled and they are trying to find other airlines to take all the onward bound passengers who are going to various final destinations.  It seems that there are no other direct flights to Brunei so we may get put on a flight going via Singapore or Kuala Lumpur.  We are not happy as we have no idea where our luggage is and the queue is not moving.  Just been told to go to the Food Court and order what you like on the house.  Will do.  Back now after huge disappointment.  We could only go to McDonalds or aTaste of India. I have not had a McDonald for at least 20 years and have no intention of starting now,  Now sitting on the floor at the deserted check in desk 5.30am.

Now 7am and we have trekked back through the airport to the original terminal where we arrived and are queuing at a new check in desk.  There is a rumour going round that we will be put on a Malaysia flight to Singapore but no one really knows.  There is no information at all and we are seriously ticked off.  Luckily there is a charming and entertaining Bruneian man next to us in the queue but even he is getting a bit fed up.

Now 8.30am and we have tickets to Kuala Lumpur but no further.  We are told to ask at the Royal Brunei desk when we get there.  Heard that somewhere before.

Another 6 hour flight which was delayed for the Malaysian Minister of Finance and his entourage to arrive, so when we arrive in Kuala Lumpur, there is basically no point in going on to Brunei as all the onward flights to Kota Kinabalu, our final destination, are overbooked.  So we are in a hotel on the airport complex for the night and flying out direct to Kota Kinabalu tomorrow.  We have been travelling for 26 hours now and are very tired and don't know how this will affect our itinerary as the first day. Should have been the visit to the Orang-utan Sanctuary.

The last day

Saturday 30 November
We packed ready to leave  and left our luggage in reception while we went to visit a shopping mall in Leblon Beach.  It was a very upmarket affair with doormen at the entrance opening doors for the shoppers and hailing taxis for them.  The Christmas decorations are everywhere now, on the hotel walls, in the streets and in the shops.

  There were a few reasonable priced shops but mostly  the big price tag names like Armani and Burberry, so we weren't tempted to buy much as we were down to our last few reals. We spent them on coffee and empanaos, a bit like a small pasty.
The weather had turned on this last day and there was heavy mist and it was a bit grey, though still 27 degrees.

Ipanima beach from the shopping mall

The plan was to finish our blogs and have a meal out before being picked up at 8 o' clock to go to the airport.  The problem was that it had started to rain and neither Lynn nor I could get a signal from the hotel's Wifi so we watched Saturday Night Fever on the TV instead.
We said good bye to Rio in the rain and headed for the airport.  I have loved every thing about Brazil but I have to say that at the airport they have made an art form out of queuing.  It's a bit like the lines at Disneyland for the most popular rides.  My cold was in full flow, literally and I had lost my voice so I was not in the best of moods.  I can't imagine how they are going to cope with the crowds arriving for the World Cup, let alone the Olympics.  Our guide said that there is massive investment in the infrastructure and we did see lots of building going on.  But it seems that corruption in high places means that everything gets done slowly and cosst the people three times more than it should.  Alex suggested that to jump the biggest queue I should do what a Brazilian would do and ask for a wheelchair.  However I didn't feel that having a cold and losing my voice qualified me for invalid status.  That said the flight left on time and now we just wanted to get home.
It has been a wonderful holiday, so many highlights.  The great weather, the culture and history of Argentina, the natural grandeur of Iguazu Falls and the spectacular sights of Rio, the fun dancing at the samba and tango clubs and the warmth, friendliness and excellent service from the local people.  Even the loos are spotless and this is important to us ladies, the only exception to this was in MacDonalds where we nipped in in desperation.
So thank you for all the laughs, Lynn.  I will always remember the dressing up at the Sambadrome, the drenching on the boat ride and the massive cocktails and their consequences.
                                                                     The End

Good bye Rio

                   

               Look out for our next adventures in Borneo in March 2014!

Beach and posh frocks

Friday ?
Today is our last full day and we were free to do what we wanted.  

The hotels Christmas tree has gone up and is lovely.

After yesterday's marathon sightseeing we thought a relaxing time on Copacabana Beach would fit the bill.  The sand is fine and light coloured and there were lots of people taking advantage of it.  But hardly anyone in the water.  That's because the bay is washed by currents coming up from the Antarctic.  Think Blackpool but colder.
 There were lots of sellers of just about everything but they were not pushy or a nuisance.  There were  sellers of pareos, bikinis, jewellery, tablecloths, rugs, hammocks, paintings, books, sun creams,, Arab food (?), ice creams, fruit, king prawn kebabs with a courtesy diarrhoea tablet, cashew nuts, popcorn, coconuts and lots of others I can't remember.  

There were also lots of ladies in tiny thongs who probably shouldn't have been

It was strange weather as suddenly a bank of white mist, travelling really fast would sweep across filling the whole sky so you couldn't see the hotel across the road, let alone Sugar Loaf Mountain..
Then it cleared just as fast but left a narrow low lying swathe against the mountain.

Lynn went to sunbathe round the pool and do her blog and I had a walk down to the Fort.  It looked interesting but there were no guides in English or Spanish so I was non the wiser about it all.  However as a pensioner, I got in free and I have to say that the soldier in the photo had a very toy town uniform on.

In the evening, we walked the length of the promenade looking for the Copacabana Palace Hotel, which has an interesting history.  It's a magnificent 5star place built in the 20's. It's the place the rich and famous stayed.  When the owner died he left it to his playboy son who worked his way through his inheritance until he was penniless.  At the age of 85 he became a tour guide.  We had a very expensive cocktail which to be honest was nothing special so we made sure we ate every last cashew and olive to get our money's worth

.  Another fantastic meal, a walk back along the prom passing through the evening market.  Many of the restaurants and bars had live music and it was a very lively place to be.
I have had a cold for a couple of days now, don't know where that came from so I called in at a pharmacy for some night nurse or similar.  Not many people speak English or even Spanish here so I acted out my various symptoms to a very bemused assistant..

Christ the Redeemer, Sugar Loaf Mountain and much more.

I think it may be Friday.

We had an early start as there was so much to see and also to do as much as possible before it got too hot.  Alex, our thin version of George a looney but with bigger teeth, guide collected us at 8am.  We skipped the champagne at breakfast as the novelty had worn off.  Our first stop was Christ the Redeemer statue which we had to access by funicular railway.

   The statue is on a mountain which isn't really a mountain as it is a gigantic outcrop of rock, called the Corcovado which means the hunchback but it is also called the Englishmans hill because so many English were involved in the building of the funicular railway.  The Mayor said that the city needed a radio mast but the people objected that it would spoil the natural beauty so someone had the idea of enclosing the mast in a statue.  The church chipped in with money to fund the statue.  It was constructed by a Polish architect in 1926 but the head and hands were brought from France and assembled in situ. It's made of sandstone to resist cracking by the rain and the heat.   It has a definite Art Deco look and is extraordinarily beautiful but you do have to have your photo taken with it so excuse our mugs on it. 

 Various interesting facts - a German has jumped off the right hand, some boys from São Paulo grafittied the base, the police went to get them and their families and they had to come back and clean it off, there is a beautiful small chapel under the statue but mainly the views are breathtaking for 360 degrees.

The lagoon

Sugar Loaf Mountain

View towards the beaches

From there we went on to Sugar Loaf Mountain.  

Again this is an outcrop of rock which when the conquistadors sailed in looked to them like an upside down cone of sugar they made in Portugal, especially as it was covered in guano so it looked white then.  It's not white anymore because of the decline in seabirds living on it.  There are two cable cars to ride up to one mountain and then over to Sugar Loaf.

 The first men to stand on it a hundred years ago had to climb up.  Then the cable cars were constructed by the French and the Italians.  The James Bond film Moonraker was partly filmed here.  Again the views are stunning.

  We were so lucky with the weather as, although it was hot 93 degrees in old money, it was clear and there was a lovely breeze.  There are very tame and cute little marmoset monkeys in the trees up there. Alex told us that if they find fruit up there they burrow into it and eat there way through it till it's all gone.  They won't leave it in case another monkey comes along and takes it

A marmoset

Waiting for the jack fruit to fall

It was hot by now so we went on a ride around the city with Alex giving us a commentary.  The conquistadors had settled in Rio because it has a very sheltered harbour which fact looks like it it is linked to the Atlantic Ocean by a river but it is simply a very narrow opening. They called it therefore Rio (river) Janeiro (January) after the date they landed.  It has three beaches - Copacabana, 6 kms long with imported sand and a promenade made in a snake like mosaic with stones imported from Portugal, Ipanima , which of course has a song about a girl named after it and Leblon.  It also has a lagoon.  Before Brazil was a republic it had two emperors from Portugal.  The second one went to a party on a nearby island and when he came back, the republicans had seized power.  He retired to his summer house in Pedropolis and was happy to stay there but they sent him back to Portugal.  Sadly the Portuguese wouldn't have him so he ended his days in Paris. On the promenade and here and there in the city you can see three red circles which symbolise the joining of the three ethnic groups in Brazil, the Europeans, the natives and the slaves from Africa.

 We saw the new cathedral which is just like a giant beehive but has wonderful stained glass windows on three sides. 

 we stopped at a street made up of steep steps.  It is completely covered in tiles, mostly red. 

 There was an artist called Selvaron who fell in love with a woman, making her pregnant but she died before the baby could be born.  He was so distraught that he started putting bits of tiles on the steps of this street.  People started coming to see it and he began to sell little paintings and making money.  The local gangs moved in and tried to extort money from him.  When he replied, Over my dead body, they took him at his word, killed him set fire to his body and left it at the foot of the steps.  This was only a year ago.  On all his paintings, Selvaron always drew himself with his lovers pregnant body but his own head.

The downtown area in Rio is much like other cities with tall buildings but it seemed to me that there is quite a lot of grafitti.  The streets are busy and there are lots of modern shops but it has a completely different feel to Buenos Aries, more vibrant, less restrained and sophisticated.  We stopped off for a ice cream  in a vintage patissereie, very similar to the tango club, with huge carved framed mirrors and mosaic floors.

Our last stop was the Sambadrome.  It was specially built for the first division teams which usually represent a local church or favela.  It's like a wide street with raked seating on each side and the top seats command up to 600 dollars. Lynn and I couldn't resist and donned costumes for a samba fest of our own.

Our last stop was a favela.  Very densly packed chaotic self build on steep slopes where the poor live.  However they are putting in lifts up the side of the mountains to help the residents to get about.  About 90 % are law abiding and have jobs and it is now not politically correct to say favela (ghetto). They are now called communities. 

One of the favelas tumbling down the mountainside.

A street in the favela

In the evening, we went into a bustling restaurant on the promenade where we mulled over our choice of meal with a cuprihaina(?) and crushed fruit.  I had strawberry and Lynn had lime, it was just a tumbler of neat Brazilian rum with fruit and ice.  We did not make the same mistake as last night and only ordered one starter and one main and we couldn't even finish that.

Flying down to Rio

HIs it Wednesday?
Have lost track of date sorry.  Not much happened until we arrived in Rio.  Airport, 2 hour flight, Waggon Wheel biscuits, transfer to hotel.  The hotel is right on Copacabana beach and our room has a side view of the beach.  

It has recently be reopened after a complete refurbishment and is lovely.  We were met in the lobby like royalty with champagne and everyone smiling and saying welcome to Rio.  We had a little rest and then showered ready for a meal out.  Round the corner on the promenade we found a great fish place, no one spoke English but there was a bit of English on the menu.  Of course we forgot about the huge portions you get here and ordered far too much.  We were in a bit of a hurry as we had decided to repeat our successful tango outing by going to a samba club.  It was downtown in the cultural district and turned out to be another dancing mecca.

  It was on three floors with an atrium in the middle looking down on the dance floor.  So you could watch the dancers.  What you do, is tell the cashier at the door your name and she gives you a food and drinks list.  When you order a drink or food, the waiter marks it off on your card and you pay when you leave.  The tables round the dance floor were already taken so we asked for our guide's friend, Naudo, who brought out a special little table for us with a good view 

  Only two or three couples were dancing at that point but the traditional samba looked very exciting.  We had been told to look out for an 80 year old black guy in a white suit, hat and shoes as he was always there and a terrific dancer.  We did see him but he wasn't dancing.  He had earphones in and looked pensive.  It seems that the Brazilian League final was on that night and the local team, Flamengo, was tipped to win. When the floor filled up a bit more, Lynn and I got up and did the nearest thing we could to a samba, basically waggling your bottom a lot.  There were two live bands but local samba music consists of long, largely tuneless, shouty lyrics to loud drum beating with a bit of pipes thrown in.  But the locals all seemed to know the words.
We took turns to have a wander round the other floors.  I took some photos with my mobile but of course they are stuck there till I get it fixed.  Will ask Lynn for some of hers.  We learned later that the building used to be a shop selling old things but not as old as antiques.  They didn't do very well so they arranged all the items as decoration, cleared the floor and turned it into a samba club.its very popular every night and had it not been for the football we probably wouldn't have got in.  Each are of each floor is decorated in a different way, banks of old radios, sewing machines, old fashioned pharmacy bottles, life size cartoon statues of black slave women.  

 on level three there was an open air walkway into the next building with a extra dance floor.
We had a great night and of course I could not restrain Lynn from chatting up a huge Brazilian man who did not speak English and did not want to dance but she managed to get him on the floor, to dance of course.  Taxi ride back and we could see and hear fireworks, chanting and black and red shirts everywhere.  Flamengo had won.  Muito bom!

Here is me crying for Argentina at Evitas' s mausoleum.  I couldn't help it.