Brazil Day 21 - In prison

First let me say how much I value all your comments on this blog, especially when it takes soooo loooooongg to upload pics from Ilha Grande. It's great to know you're still reading it despite England's early exit from the World Cup.This morning I was up early for breakfast (fresh bread rolls, butter, jam, tea, fresh mango juice, scrambled egg) to walk from the main town on Ilha Grande called Abraao which is on the west coast over the mountain to a village called Dois Rios on the east coast facing out to the Atlantic. This walk is just over 8km along a trail called T14 - all the walks are numbered. This one was more than a path - it used to be a dirt road linking Abraao to Dois Rios, now somewhat overgrown though, but the going wasn't too bad. For my Surrey and Hampshire lady readers (you know who you are) it was a bit like a walk in the Surrey Hills up Newlands Corner, but 4 times higher and with the weirdest animal noises from the jungle (could be all the Birmingham University leavers), banana trees with actual bananas, monkeys, toucans and big butterflies.I kept a look out for my new pal Dietmar from Germany who I met last night. We had a good chat over dinner and beer and it turns out he keeps a fully overland specced Landcriuser which he's driven 26,000km around South America so far. We had a loose arrangement that we might meet up for the walk in the morning, but he didn't fancy it as he was a no-show this morning.It was pretty warm at 08:30 when I set off, and humid, and I soon got a sweat going tramping up the side of the mountain. Keeping moving resulted in a nice breeze to keep everything a little cool, but I was gently melting into my technical shirt and trousers (lower legs attached). I stopped halfway up and dunked my head into a stream that was cascading down the hill. I had a bag with 2 litres of water, some nuts and a couple of ham and cheese rolls purloined from breakfast which should see me through the day.I had been told by Claude my landlord here that there was a shorter path once over the summit which went through a bamboo forest. Not having been in a bamboo forest before I took that and it wound its way through a load of bamboo which I've decided is incredibly hard to photograph. I had a go though.I reckoned the walk should take 2 hours at an average of 2.5mph, and I did arrive in Dois Rios about two hours later. I had to sign in at a little guard hut place on the way in for some reason - I think they like to know who has arrived so they can count them out at the end of the day. I fooled them by leaving by boat though - more on that later.The village exists because of the prison that was built there. It used to house some of Brazil's hardest perps, and then in the 1930s became a place of incarceration for political prisoners, who were also housed with the hardened criminals. Many a drugs gang was created there by all accounts. Until fairly recently the whole island was off-limits and those who lived there worked exclusively servicing the prison.The village is sliding gently back into the jungle. It clearly once had nicely laid out streets in a grid pattern with well maintained houses. Now quite a few of the houses have gradually fallen into disrepair (though there are plenty of others still well looked after). The prison was abandoned and the main accommodation cells were demolished. I wanted a look in.The main gate of the prison is still there, flanked by quite nicely kept buildings which it turns out house a museum and exhibits of various sorts, plus another room with stuff made from recycled waste materials by the islands school kids. The museum was manned by a couple of very well turned out volunteers who didn't speak a word of English but who were very helpful, and a nice but serious looking police lady.I asked if I could walk into the main prison area which was fenced off. With a mixture of hand gestures and the odd word of French it became clear that this was prohibited. I might break my leg, it was all overgrown, and there were cobras, and it simply wasn't allowed. This was a bit unfortunate as I'd walked all that way to see the derelict bits.I didn't travel thousands of miles to Brazil to not get into a prison, so I had a pleasant look around the museum for a bit and then sauntered back out and around the perimeter wall. Those who know me know I am always up for a bit of "urbex" (urban exploration) and around the back I found the expected gap which let me into the rear of the prison complex, out of sight from the folks in the museum. I say "expected gap" as these sort of places always have a way in somewhere.I had a good, but very quiet, wander around, looking out for cobras (about as likely as pandas in the bamboo forest earlier on) and other hazards, of which there were none. The main cell block had been flattened by what looked like a proper demolition job. A few other buildings were still standing but being taken over by the jungle which basically just grows everwhere very quickly. It was pretty atmospheric though.After a good but safe sneak about I left the way I came in, taking nothing but photographs, and had a further wander around Dois Rios. Here's a flavour for you.Lots of colour, lots of character - I could have spent ages looking around, but there was serious idleness to be worked on.A short walk further on is a beautiful beach which is the main reason people make their way to this place. It was cloudy by now - I think the wind blowing onto the island causes the moisture laden air to rise, condense, and form cloud - but that didn't take away anything from the beauty of the place. As I'd set off from Abraao early I was the first and only person on the beach. With palm trees and other weird species lining the shore, and very fine sand, and big round boulders it was a pretty super place.I decided to sit around doing nothing for a few hours, which I was very good at. When I turn my mind to it I am excellent at doing nothing. I had my ham and cheese rolls, and contemplated. No staggering visions came to me. I simply sat there under a tree and looked at the sea and the beach while brushing ants off me and watching the monkeys in the tree.I did conclude that walking back would be a bit dull, so asked around using the usual method of waving my arms and miming and found that a chap runs a water taxi to a beach called Lopes Mendez, from where you can walk 1km to the other side of the island to catch another water taxi back to Abraao. The snag was that if I went on my own it would cost R$100 (about £28). As luck would have it a couple of American Indians came along with mountain bikes which they'd hired from Abraao and were looking for a lift back. They were actually Indians living in America by the way. Nice chaps. This bought the cost down to a much more manageable R$40 each or about £12.While waiting I watched some of the local village people clear a load of vegetation to rig up what in Africa we called a "phoofie slide", otherwise known as a cable between two trees with a handle on a pulley that you use to slide down. This was quite good entertainment for a couple of hours as machetes were wielded in a rather expert manner to chop down small trees and clear a path for the slide to go over the river. In actuality they didn't have enough tension on it so the sliders ended up hitting the water about halfway across which was probably the plan anyway.Then it was into the water taxi which was a smallish boat with an outboard. The two other guys had their bikes loaded in and off we went for a really cracking boat ride along the coast. Well worth £12 in my book. He took us into a tiny bay where there was the most wonderful little beach with nobody on it at all - it didn't seem to have a name, but imagine palm trees, about 10 meters of sand, big round boulders, and clear water and you've got it. I didn't take pics as I was hiding my camera from the spray. They were tucked away inside plastic bags in my shoulder bag.Then it was along a bit further to Lopes Mendez beach was had quite a few people on it. The interesting challenge was for the boat to get us to the beach through quite large surf. The boatman knew his stuff though, and with expert timing he got us right onto the sand in the middle of a bunch of people inbetween large waves. We hopped off and he swivelled his boat around and shot off. What a cool way to arrive on a beach.A quick walk over to the other side of the island and I popped out on another gorgeous beach where a line of boats were waiting to ferry people back to Abraao. Another cracking ride along the coast for R$20 (about £5) had me stepping ashore on the beach a few yards from my lodgings. What a super day out.I had been doubting the wisdom of trekking over the island to the prison, but it was a cracking little adventure and the two boat rides at the end really finished it off very well indeed. Tomorrow it's back to reality, back to Rio and preparation for Friday's Germany v France game at the Maracana.Oh, and congrats to Ben Queenborough who was again in the right position to get the cele right down the lens from the Argentinian injury time limp into the quarter finals. Come on Belgium!