 Flying
to Rio
Sailing
to Alaska
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Looking for The
Girl From Ipanema, I spied an early
bird checking out the morning's catch.
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RIO DE
JANEIRO
Surf, Sand and Society
Summon Savvy Sightseers
Text and Photos by Tim Boxer
RAZIL has long been a trendsetter
in music (and fashion and beauty, too). I never forgot The Girl from
Ipanema. That inflammable song from the Sexy Sixties sent passions
burning in the hearts of adolescents and love-stricken young men all over
the world. I often fantasized about meeting her, even more than Brigitte
Bardot or Marilyn Monroe. Brazil’s latest sexport, supersexy model Gisele
Bundchen, doesn’t really do it for me. (Not when I have Nina at home.)
So this summer I jumped when the
Rio de Janeiro Tourism Office (Riotur) suggested I check out their fair
city. This was my chance in a lifetime to find that elusive girl from
Ipanema. I left my own girl in Flushing as I boarded Varig for a smooth
flight to Brazil. That’s the best way to go, with Varig’s daily nonstop
flights.
Bringing in the
fish on Copacabana |
Having never visited here before, I
was surprised to see from the air how beautiful Rio de Janeiro appeared. It
has the Atlantic Ocean and beaches stretched out on the right side, giving
its people the option of going to work in ultramodern glass and steel
buildings or playing soccer in the sand, soaking the sun, fishing or surfing
the breaking waves.
I gave myself over to the luxury of
Hotel Sofitel Rio Palace, which lay at one end of Copacabana. The
eight-story structure is spread horizontally in front of the most famous
beach in Rio. Opened in 1979, the hotel was later acquired by the Accor/Sofitel
world chain, which pumped $20 million to modernize the facilities for a 1996
re-opening.
General Manager Nagi Edouard
Naoufal takes care of his guests with every amenity. “The hotel’s aim is
for everyone to enjoy himself or herself,” he said. “They can wear
casual clothes; no need for tie and jacket.”
Little did I realize that’s
actually the credo of Rio.
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Sofitel Hotel at
right
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Sofitel Hotel’s Imperial Club,
consisting of rooms on the top floor, pampers those lucky guests to extreme.
When you arrive, the butler scampers to iron your suit and shine your shoes.
(You can’t be casual ALL the time.)
The sheets and pillowcases are
different on this floor. They are made of the finest cotton, very smooth,
I’m told. There are two Presidential Suites, which are duplexes. In this
Portuguese country, every Sofitel butler speaks English, and some are fluent
in German, Japanese, Italian and Spanish.
There’s a fitness room with
exercises and massage, and every room is equipped with vanity mirror, hair
dryer, mini-bar, electronic safe, cable TV and data ports. The daily paper,
in Portuguese or English (USA Today) is delivered daily. But instead of
sitting on the balcony reading, I spent a lot of enjoyable time watching the
sights on the Copacabana.
I always thought the Copacabana was
an expensive nightclub in Manhattan where the biggest stars of the
entertainment world performed. I didn’t know there was a Copacabana in Rio
and that it was the name of a district and beach. The next beach is Ipanema,
and then Leblon, named for different districts of the city.
When it comes to personal safety at
the beaches, you needn’t worry. Police were visible everywhere. Tourism is
such a high priority that the city makes sure its visitors are well
protected. But that doesn’t mean you should be sloppy with security. You
never leave your personal effects unwatched at the beach, or anywhere else.
That’s just common sense.
At dawn I stepped out on the
sundeck and gazed with amazement at the gorgeous scene below. It was Sunday,
when auto traffic is banned from Avenue Atlantica, which skirts the beach.
People were strolling in the street, sitting under umbrellas on the sand,
and flowing with the waves on surfboards.
Every night, the middle pedestrian
strip of the avenue is taken over by outdoor merchants hawking all kinds of
trinkets, souvenirs and T-shirts. Life here can keep you going all night.
NEXT:
Culture can be fun in Rio.
ADVENTURE
CRUISING ON ALASKAN SEAS
By Sally Ogle Davis
have never been a fan of
cruising. A vacation where the most active thing you do in a week is
maneuver your way around the frozen swans at the midnight buffet is not my
cup of tea.
And don't you positively loathe the
lemming-like exodus from the ship in port, flocking into pre-ordained,
allegedly duty free stores to buy junk you wouldn't even consider looking at
home?
That was before a brochure arrived
on my doorstep promising "Adventure Cruising" – an oxymoron if
ever I heard one. Being nothing
if not broadminded, I promised to look into it. That is why I found myself
wearing a prodigious quantity of warm and waterproof clothing, shivering
alongside my husband and an intrepid band of folks from all over the
country, in the middle of an ice flow, in the middle of Alaska.
Nope – this is not cruising the
way your Aunt Sadie used to do it.
We'd been dropped on the Mendenhall
Glacier by helicopter when our ship, the luxurious Mercury, one of Celebrity
Cruises' newer vessels, docked in Juneau. I kept thinking of those folks
last year who got stranded overnight on an ice flow in Juneau when their
helicopters went down. Happily no such chilly fate awaited us.
We returned to the Mercury in one
piece and on time. An hour later we were elegantly attired and sipping a
pre-dinner glass of champagne in the Mercury's champagne and caviar bar.
The Celebrity line's research has
indicated that in the next twenty years people who have been drowning in all
the things the boom has provided them will in the future want to spend their
disposable income on experiences they can't have in their own back yards no
matter how many toys they've acquired. So they came up with the idea of
using their ships as a base – a very luxurious base, mind you – from
which to pack in as many and varied adventures as a week or two will allow.
The Celebrity line has consequently
become "soft adventure" specialists. What, I hear you ask, is soft
adventure?
Well, instead of climbing Mt.
McKinley, the highest peak in North America and definitely not for amateurs,
we flew over it, almost close enough to touch, in a DC 3 which had taken
part in the D-Day landings and had been perfectly restored, complete with
piped-in big band swing music, and a
flight attendant in WW II era uniform. And yes the views were awesome –
for once the word was not overkill.
We may have landed by helicopter on
a couple of glaciers, which sounds pretty hairy, but we also stood sipping
hot toddies on the deck of our ship moored up close and personal to the
awesome aqua blue Hubbard Glacier (90 miles long) at the head of Yakutat
Bay, as it groaned and cracked and sent huge junks of itself steaming into
the frozen straits. It cost us no more effort than raising our glasses and
smiling for the ship's photographer.
In 1986 this ninety-mile-long chunk
of ice moved en masse to block an entire fjord from its outlet to the sea.
Listening to it communicate its wrath that we were invading its territory
was pretty intimidating stuff.
Our first port of call after
leaving Vancouver was Ketchikan where we traded our ship for a motor launch
and sailed up the magnificent inside passage of the Misty Fjords wilderness.
We were hanging over the side to
view the sheer granite cliffs rising out of deep dark still waters –
perfect for kayaking, which some of our party did. Other passengers had gone
jet boating in the backcountry, some were mountain biking in the nearby rain
forest.
We simply wanted to concentrate on
the feast of wildlife visible from the launch's arrow deck. We saw bald
eagles in their nests close enough for headshots, and adorable black white
and orange dwarf Puffins. The entire trip became worthwhile when, out from
the trees bordering the shore, a family of six black bears emerged to feast
on the remains of a beached humped back whale.
We flew back to the ship via
floatplane piloted by a crazy ex-Vietnam fighter pilot – a raging Cajun
from New Orleans who liked to demonstrate the maneuverability of his
aircraft – all the while letting out a fierce rebel yell. Now that was
definitely part of the adventure.
We
simply wanted to concentrate on the
feast of wildlife visible from the launch's
arrow deck. We saw bald eagles in their
nests close enough for headshots, and
adorable black white and orange dwarf
Puffins. The entire trip became
worthwhile when, out from the trees
bordering the shore, a family of six black
bears emerged to feast on the remains of
a beached humped back whale. |
Out of Skagway, our next stop, we
took the famous white pass scenic railway, an old single gauge built for the
miners of the gold rush which
struggles over sheer gorges with breathtaking drops.
This is not a ride for those who have problems with heights – and
at four hours it did take a chunk of time, but the views were breathtaking.
From Juneau there were so many
possible variations on glacier exploration, sports fishing, sea kayaking and
alpine hiking that it made our heads spin.
From Valdez, a term infamous among
environmentalists because of the famous Exxon disaster, my husband went
helicoptering to the Columbia Glacier which flows down the mountain and
right onto the beach. En route
he flew over the famous Trans Alaskan pipeline, which he pronounced awesome
– there's that word again.
I decided that this was the place I
would go shopping. Totally untouristy, it looked like a spot where real
Alaskans lived. It was bleak, cold and bare. I half expected to see that
moose from Northern Exposure walk down the main street towards me.
But I'd made the right decision. In an old converted fishing warehouse I
found a treasure trove of antiques, old jewelry, and fascinating artifacts
from the old Soviet Union. My husband is now the proud owner of a silver hip
flask bearing indecipherable but definitely impressive – in a Soviet sort
of way – Russian officer's insignia.
We left the ship at Seward, a
picturesque fishing town with a population of just 2,500, to take advantage
of an additional Celebrity two-day land adventure option – touring Denali
National Park.
But first we dropped off at the
Seward Sea Life Center, a fascinating aquarium for the study and
rehabilitation of every kind of sea creature imaginable. From there we
boarded a launch to nearby Fox Island and examined the same creatures in
their natural habitat.
As we motored, schools of otters
lounged on their backs around the boat playing hide and seek with us.
Stellar seals displayed themselves for our perusal on nearby rocks, and
salmon leaped out of the water all around us. On a cliff face a bald eagle
peered superciliously at us out of his nest.
This was nature undisturbed and we loved every second of it.
Our experience on the cruise alas
had spoiled us for Denali when we finally got there. The wildlife seemed
thin on the ground and remote compared to what we had seen and we felt very
superior to the other tourists busing their way through.
But our stint on land did afford us another collection of great
experiences.
The first night at the Talkeetna
Lodge we dined with a local character who rejoices under the name of
Basecamp Annie. She sets up base camp for the scores of climbers who set off
to conquer Mt. McKinley every year. She also goes off to rescue them at
considerable risk to her own life and limb when they get in trouble, which
is often.
For the next two days our program
was slightly less hairy as we rode on horses over vast wetlands and through
forested trails, went whitewater rafting in freezing cold but exhilarating
rapids, took a long sightseeing trip in one of Alaska's scenic Railway's
bubble roofed trains, and my personal favorite – a visit to a kennel where
dogs are trained for the world famous annual Iditarod race, the finest dog
sled race in the world.
It was puppy time at the kennel.
Jeff King,
who has won the race three times, generously allowed us lots of
cuddles with the babies. The adult dogs are much too professional to be
messed with. Watching them go through their paces made us wonder again about
the validity of that term "dumb animal."
It made me regret that I hadn't
taken one of the trips on offer out of Juneau – a helicopter ride to the
Norris glacier where you are picked up by dogsled and mushed across the snow
and ice.
The best part about this "soft
adventure" business is that while you're out in the wilderness getting
wet and cold and scared and intimidated and exhilarated all at the same
time, your ship is waiting with your comfortable cabin, viewing balcony,
four-star cuisine, vintage wines and your opportunity to get your evening
gown out of moth balls and put on the Ritz, in fact all the of the luxuries
of top of the line cruising. Which is also the bad news. You still come back
from a Celebrity adventure cruise several pounds heavier.
The good news is you've had
unbelievable experiences with which to bore your friends until, well, until
you go on the next one.
Sally
Ogle Davis is a syndicated travel and entertainment
writer based in Ventura, Calif.
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