Christ the Redeemer

 

The silver Peugot snaked through the dense Tijuca forest. Thiago, expertly negotiating aged and narrow cobble stone roads, zig zagged up the switchbacks on the steep mountainside with an attractive confidence. I caught a glimpse of the statue and almost begged him to stop so I could take a picture through the trees almost 1000 feet below. Not exactly a practical idea, so I waited.

Thiago's dad, Napoleão, was unable to join us on this blistering, crystal-clear day as he had a funeral to attend. So, the 3 of us parked at the base of the monument, unsure about how to go about buying a ticket to get to the top. At one point in time, a rail car heaved the swarms of visitors up to the viewing platform. A local schister tried to lead us up to the train tracks where a reasonably official-looking sign promised that this was the place to buy tickets to the top. Being quite aware of the abundance of schisters in Brazil, we weren't convinced that taking the train was such a good idea. Back down to the parking lot, we decided to follow a team of breathtakingly attractive Argentinian soccer players to the ticket booth. Well, they were attractive until I realized that they were all carrying Dior murses. I'm pretty sure I don't need to define it, but just in case, a murse is a man purse. Just use your pockets...sheesh.

Finally we get our tickets and I enthusiastically march up the countless stairs (no, there hasn't been a train in decades). I was desperate to burn off some calories. Thiago's mom is a food pusher, and it is really hard to say no. She is the type of lady who can't sit down and eat her own meal because she's so busy running back and forth to the kitchen until the entire contents of the cabinets and fridge is on the table in front of me and I've tried everything...twice...and then there is dessert...

Huffing, but trying not to show it, I reach the top of the winding stone staircase. We later realized there was both an escalator and elevator, but I think the stairs are part of the charm, and the breathless adrenaline head rush you get from bounding up a dozen flight of stairs really helps the euphoric state of mind one experiences when admiring one of the 7 modern wonders of the world.

Speaking of wonders, I wonder how Big J got up there in the first place. He's huge. I still don't actually know, but it's amazing just the same. For now, I'll say it was a miracle. Or indentured labor...just a guess.

More pictures to come!