A trip back in time

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This weekend we went far outside Rio - and we even had the feeling of visiting a place far back in time.

The small island of Paquetá, situated in the north eastern part of Guanabara bay,  has for centuries been a summer refuge for Brazilian royalty and wealthy cariocas.

There is still a ferry running between Rio  and Paquetá, but while old timers described the Guanabara bay as a vast surface of clear water, broken by jumping pods of dolphins, the bay today is a polluted mess of raw sewage coming from the millions, living in the  Rio suburbs.

The black spots on the surface of the bay are certainly  not dolphins but rather floating tires or other trash - and the beautiful beaches, which in the last century were filled with sunbathers during the weekends, are now empty, as the risk of getting infected with viruses is high, if you swallow just a few teaspoons of bay water.

With this in mind, a weekend outing on the bay doesn't seem like a sensible thing to do, but (as in so many aspects of Rio life), things can look splendid seen from afar, even though they might be sordid up close.

From afar, the vast bay still looks amazing - glistening in the sun, surrounded by distant, blue, sawtooth formed  mountain ridges.

We really needed an outing - and boarded the ferry.



Coming close to the shore of Ilha de Paquetá, we were absolutely astonished by the look of the island. The view was exactly as taken from some old, hand colored engravings we've seen of the former Danish Virgin Islands: Sun drenched dirt roads, small rows of dilapidated houses and (as private cars are not allowed on the island) an almost complete quiet emptiness.

A fantastic contrast to the turmoil we had left in the center of Rio.

When we disembarked the ferry, most of the other day tourists stayed close to the cafes at the harbour - and soon the only sights of life we found, was a mongrel dog walking at the side of a dirt road or a bicyclist trotting along on unknown errands.



The colonial-style buildings we passed along, bore witness of former glory, as they were built by courtiers of the Portuguese-Brazilian emperor and other wealthy citizens of Rio. Now many of the houses have fallen into disarray and they are inhabited by the hundreds of islanders, who find their main income in the visiting day tourists from Rio.






We walked for hours along empty beaches and through small, still beautiful parks, until it was time to board the ferry for the return

When we crossed the bay en route to Rio, the sun was settling and the mountains looked like glowing embers.

Here, in the twilight, you couldn't see the pollution.  It was just pure bliss. 



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