My memories of agreeable little Belém would be far different had it not rained (which is to say, fell in a downpour) every single day. The rain usually came around mid-day, lasted anywhere from an hour to six hours, and did a great job of clearing out the morning heat. Of course it brought afternoon humidity, but nothing worse than what one might experience in other parts of Brazil. The cooler air and the shade provided by mango trees made walking around Belem a pleasure.
Side note: the mango trees were planted by the city father many years ago. Although they provide excellent shady sidewalks - and apparently Manaus does not have the same - the trees have the bad habit of producing and dropping fruit. These heavy (not always ripe) mangoes often fall on cars, denting car bodies and cracking windshields. Use caution when parking in Belém.
There’s little of excitement to report. I started running again, and made a course out of going down to the docks, up to Ver-o-Peso, and back to the Praça Batista Campos for a few laps. There’s a 10km run in Fortaleza when I arrive, sponsored by the Pague Menos line of drug stores. I’m motivated for it, but I’ve now been to four different Pague Menos locations and no one seems to know how to register me. (And no, it can’t be done online. To my consteration.)
On Saturday, I had a chance to walk down to Belém’s Old City, which is colorful
Bustling (this is Ver-o-Peso, so-named because the Crown would weigh goods shipped from the interior and the Amazon in order to collect the royal ten percent duty)
And sometimes fragrant.
The history is that the Portuguese built a fort here in 1616 to protect their interests further up the Amazon River. I’m not entirely clear on how that was supposed to work. The Amazon delta is enormous, and it has multiple islands behind which one could slip by undetected. Perhaps the settlement at Belém was designed to prevent any permanent settlement upriver. It seems plausible that the French couldn’t plant (and supply and maintain) an Amazonian city without eventually being discovered by the crew at Belém.
In any case, the last above photo is taken from the Fishermans’ Wharf area around Ver-o-Peso, pictured below. This area stands between Ver-o-Peso and the fort; the latter was a nice place, but didn’t seem to warrant the price of admission.
Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I haven’t really changed. Below, I’m standing in front of the Casa das Onze Janelas, or the House of Eleven Windows. It’s a former mansion-turned military hospital-turned chic art gallery and pricey restaurant.
In selecting among museums, I went straight for the Pará State History Museum. It reminded me of the state history museum in Santa Catarina (oh, 1,800 miles away or so). In both cases, the state history museum is the old governor’s mansion, with plaques and exhibits on the development and uses of the mansion, but with very little actual state history. I was disappointed, but the nice guard let me (the only guest at the time) break the no-photographs rule if I took pictures without my flash. Below is the entrance staircase, with various marbles imported from Italy.
I should say that another example of this museum-as-old-fancy-residence genre is the Imperial Palace in Petrópolis, RJ, which is very worthwhile.
I had planned to take more photos and continue my walk, but the camera’s battery decided that it was finished for the day. On Sunday, I did go by the Teatro da Paz, in the Praça da República nearby my hotel, and I got a final photo of my favorite example of belle epoque architecture in Belém. (Quick history: Belém in the turn-of-the-century grew rich off a boom in the demand for rubber tires, which was limited to one worldwide supply in the Amazon. The city prospered, and rich rubber barons built elaborate homes in a town that came to be known as “the tropical Paris.” It all ended when an Englishman smuggled a rubber tree sapling out of Brazil and to Southeast Asia, to be planted far from the plant’s natural enemies/predators. Leeson of the story: never trust the English.
Pará is also recently famous as the site of most of that factoid I always heard growing up: one football field worth of rainforest was being destroyed every 10 minutes or so. Pará is home to the greatest extent of rainforest desmatamento (Portuguese for deforestation).
So I wasn’t surpised to look up and see this NGO was in town.
I’m now in São Luís, Maranhão, after a 16-hour bus ride. It was supposed to be a 12-hour bus ride. The bus broke down and we had to take a detour because the main road was flooded. I’m very secure in my decision to fly on to Fortaleza now, and not bother with the 20-hour bus ride.
More about São Luís soon. In short, as I had expected, it’s very much a little Salvador.
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