The day I saw the redeemer, no not Graham Henry.

So goodbye Iguazu, hello Rio. Two flights, the landing in the city airport of Sau Paulo was a little closer to the rooftops than I would have liked. Took the tram to the hotel, everyone was really worried that I would get robbed. The conductor said to stick to the main road, they even suggested that I stay on the tram until it turned around and went back so that I could get off on the other side of the street! No drama, got there OK and checked in. Talked to the receptionist about where to go and how to get there. Had a plate of pork with mashed beans and a beer and then bed.

I had one full day, then the second day I needed to be at the airport in readiness for my early flight. The one thing I really wanted to see was the Christ, so I decided that would be my first destination. A bus to the bottom, a minibus part way then a second to the top. The views of Rio were stunning, you could see the beaches and the Maracana stadium where the olympics were held, the big lake where the rowing and canoeing, and of course the sugarloaf. I overheard two men talking in English on the minibus so asked them where they were from. One was a local and the other an Aussie. I stayed with them and they helped me buy tickets and the local gave lots information. It was started in 1922, somehow I thought it would be much earlier. The platform at the base of the statue was rammed with people taking photos and it took a while to get good vantage points. After spending about half an hour taking in the sights and snapping we headed back down on the busses.

By the time I got back to the hotel it was 1430 and I was hot so I decided to relax in the rooftop pool and read some of my book. Sightseeing could wait until tomorrow.

Next day and I had a 'to do' list. Bus to Copacabana passing the sambadrome on the way. It was just like Weston! They have missed a trick though, they should import a load of mud they people could get stuck in it when the tide goes out.

I walked back to Botofogo, a familiar name for those who dance latin, and got the metro. This is a lovely new system. Visited the arcos da Lapa, and then the Escandaria Seleron, a set of steps adorned with bright tiles decorated by the Chilean artist Jorge Selaron. Now running out of time I went back to the hotel to get my bag then travelled to the airport.

The trip back was long and uneventful. The airline kept my bag between flights so I stayed in Morocco with no spare clothes or a toothbrush. I arrived in London Heathrow at 1600 and got the national feeling decidedly chilly. Two days previous I had been walking in Rio in a temperature of 31 degrees and this was single figures. I arrived at Bristol bus station and walked round the back to wait for my darling daughter to pick me up. Well blow me but right there was a pub, the white hart. I thought to myself, well it would be rude not to, and fitted in a swift pint of speckled hen, my first real beer for 6 weeks. Then back to Cromhall and a steak casserole.

.