A Visit to Ouro Preto

We spent the weekend thinking about how to spend our mini-vacation. My adorable Gringo Boyfriend (whose knowledge of Rio and Brazil gets to be irritating sometimes) suggested Ouro Preto, with its steep and cobblestone streets, historic building, gilded churches. A perfect place for long walks, an overdose of history, to enjoy sweater-wearing weather, dinners by candlelight – a perfect excursion. One in which I would be more of a tourist than Gringo Boyfriend.

The session with my analyst was Monday morning. We spent Sunday doing a little research on inns and bus tickets, as well as the departure times from the Novo Rio bus station. We wanted to head out right after analysis. Only one company connects Rio and Ouro Preto – UTIL, with only one daily run, leaving late in the evening and arriving at an absurdly early hour in Ouro Preto, which would mean an entire day waiting to head out. My brilliant solution: go to Belo Horizonte (many departures daily from Novo Rio) and catch a bus from there to our destination. We would spend an extra three hours traveling, but save an entire day.

Gringo Boyfriend agreed immediately. I have never packed my bag so quickly, since it was already almost ten, and our bus to BH was leaving at 11:05. We flew (almost literally, since I ran so fast that I almost took off), and managed to get to the Metro in record time, got out at Estácio, and got in to the bus from there to the bus station (with the pokiest driver ever, quite a contrast to the Ayrton Senna wannabes who usually pilot Rio buses). We rushed past what seemed like a hundred windows at the station until we found the UTIL counter (a tip: don't leave everything to the last minute…) Novo Rio always seems like a disorganized agglomeration of companies which have nothing to do with each other, a sort of crowded street fair for buying bus tickets. It can be tough and tiring to find what you are looking for, with no central information desk, and no visual organization. And in a rush, you may feel like tearing your hair out.

We got to the platform, tickets in hand, five minutes before departure. A triumph of the stubborn force-of-will to travel of two human beings, against all odds. But we did it, and sat happily down in our seats (separate, of course, but at least they were across the aisle from each other, so we could hold hands, like true romantics).

The driver makes one stop, on the BR-040 highway in Juiz de Fora (MG) for lunch, after about three hours, halfway. Of course, in our rush, we hadn't gotten to the ATM for cash. But we were unconcerned, since once can pay everywhere with plastic these days, right? Nope. Our roadside restaurant DID NOT accept plastic, nor checks, so lunch was limited to the few kopecks we had with us. This was enough for cheeseburgers (with lettuce and tomato), and mineral water. But they were good (if fast) food, improved our mood, and helped us face the rest of the trip, a mix of snoozing and praying. The latter was my attempt to stay Zen, even in the face of a nasty accident, involving three trucks, which completely stopped traffic for 45 minutes, the result of rainy and foggy conditions on a steep stretch with sharp curves.

We were happy to find that the BH bus station was much more organized and modern than Novo Rio, with multiple ATMs to replenish our funds. But, unlike Novo Rio, we had to pay cash for the bus tickets to Ouro Preto, and for our dinner - pão-de-queijo (a Minas specialty), coffee, juice, pastel-de-forno. And at lower-than-Rio prices.

Our layover was only about 20 minutes, and the bus to Ouro Preto was quite different from the luxury ride from Rio, which had AC, reclining seats with leg rests, panoramic windows. Our local bus was more like your usual urban bus, superannuated, not so well maintained. And with dozens of stops in BH and on the way to OP. (This was my first view of BH, though only from a half-hour ride through the city – a clean city, which looks organized, full of tree-lined streets – it looks new, and indeed it was only founded in 1897. I am looking forward to visiting BH sometime).

We pulled into Ouro Preto around 10 PM, and the thick, white fog gave it a magical enchanted air – I had the impression that I would bump into an elf or a sprite on the next street corner. At the station a taxi driver offered us a ride into the center for seven reals (the taxis there are not metered, so you have to arrive at a price before you get in). We passed, and took a bus into town for one real each, hopping out 300 meters from the Pousada Ouro Preto. We had called earlier and learned that the usual price was 120 reals/day, but the same clerk had told us that we could negotiate for a lower price when we got there. We would become "return customers” and were thus offered a 25% discount. The room was clean, cozy and well furnished, and the location of the pousada is superb. Top marks.

After freshening up and a change of clothes, we headed out for our first real meal of the day. Finding a restaurant in Ouro Preto is child's play, since you walk past one after another in the center. What is tough is to find one that has popular prices, without live music. In fact, the latter is virtually impossible. We chose a little place specializing in pizza and pasta on the basement level of a charming old house (well, of course, all of the buildings in Ouro Preto are charming) called Spaghetti. There was live music, but at least the style was "um cantinho, um violão,” a little light guitar, a little singing, unobtrusive. Perfect. The portions are ample, and the food is tasty. Since the prices were quite low, we figured the portions would be individual, and ordered two plates of pasta with gorgonzola sauce, when one would have been quite sufficient. The problem here was the wait for the food to arrive at the table, almost 40 minutes. After complaints, squawking (I was almost ready to eat the tablecloth), the food arrived and we dug in. It was so good that it became our spot in town – good food, nice atmosphere, and inexpensive.

We slept the sleep of the righteous, which was good because we needed pep for our tourism the following day. Ouro Preto has 18 churches, a bunch of museums, mines to visit, and countless cobblestone streets and historical building, all waiting to be visited and photographed.

We began our wanderings with Santa Efigênia, on one of the highest points in the city. And there I (an amateur tourist, taking a crash course with Gringo Boyfriend on how to be a Real Tourist) learned how much you have to spend to visit churches. All the churches charge a fee for admission, from one to five reals each. Pay attention to those that are "twofers,” where an admission to one spot may mean a discount at another – you can save a little cash, and you will be sure to cover all your tourist bases.

The fact is that I never in my life visited so many churches. We could gaze at countless Baroque decorations, altars with an absurd level of detail sculpted in wood, with angels, saints, inscriptions, symbols…so much detail that it is impossible for human eyes to take in all the images and all their meanings. The annoying thing is, for the laudable end of preserving the historic patrimony (and controlling the use of the images), photography is prohibited in almost all of these churches. The only places where it is permitted are precisely those which retain little of the original decoration.

It is hard to remember all the details of one church or another on the fly, since there is so much ornamentation. But I must confess that I when I went into the Igreja do Pilar, with its hundreds of kilos of gold and silver, an unexpected, almost oppressive sumptuousness, with incredible richness and variety of details, forms, sculpture, that I was moved to tears. Even though I am not Catholic, and am not easily moved, I could scarcely breathe. Unforgettable.

This was the high point of our first day, but other memorable spots included the Alejiadinho Museum, the churches of S. Francis of Assisi, and S. Francisco de Paula, Nossa Sra. do Carmo, the Museum of the Inconfidência, the former train station of Ouro Preto (a typical nineteenth-century building, art-nouveau, like most of the train stations from the period). Phew! You need shoe leather and strong legs, since you do the whole thing on foot, heading up and down steep hills. In fact, walking back down from Sta. Efigênia, I looked over and saw Gringo Boyfriend, barefoot, feet in touch with the colonial stones, with the telluric energy of Ouro Preto. I was proud to have a boyfriend so connected to esoteric powers, so tuned-in. Ai, ai. Well, of course, I was mistaken. He had taken off his Wollner sandals so as not to fall on the polished (and wet) stones of the precipitous street. He had already slipped twice, and just to be on the safe side, pulled off his sandals. What a disappointment for this incurable romantic…

And then another evening with thick fog, low temperatures, a tasty dinner at Spaghetti (no wait this time), and then some delicious concoctions made with cachaça at the hip Bar do Beco (highly recommendable – don't miss it) and we ended the evening floating on air (but walking slowly and carefully on the wet stones).

We woke ready to take in the rest of the sights, which would include a visit down the valley to Mariana, the oldest city in Minas, and just a few kilometers away by a local bus, which we caught in the middle of town. The road heads down hill along cliffs overlooking a deep chasm with a river at the bottom. The views of the mountains, the vegetation, the rock faces, the water falls in the distance are stunning. A must.

As we arrived at the Cathedral in Mariana, we were in luck, because we could hear the strains of the organ being played. Its organ is a German instrument from the first half of the eighteenth century, made by Arp Schnitger, probably the most highly regarded organ builder of the period. So that I could get a sense of the importance of this organ in Brazil, in Mariana, Gringo Boyfriend (who in addition to being crazy and adventurous, is also a musician) explained: it is like finding a Leonardo da Vinci hidden in a little town in the middle of Minas. Unbelievable.

Since it was the Day of the Dead (and a rainy day, as tradition predicts) Mariana was almost empty, with almost all the stores closed. A good day for walking quietly through the streets, with their original paving, worn old stones, what is called pé-de-moleque (like the sweet made of brown sugar and peanuts). Nevertheless, thought the streets remain, there is not so much of the original architecture. Most of the churches, though pretty on the outside, retain almost nothing of the original decoration, with a few details recalled the magnificence of times gone by, letting one imagine the human devotion to "godly things".

After our sightseeing we lunched in the Restaurante Rancho, with typical food from Minas – tutu, lombo, carré, sausage, etc – all you can eat for 12 reals a person. For dessert, fruit compotes, doce de leite, goiabada with cheese. Beverages and desserts charged separately, but rather tasty food for a good price (and on this cold day we enjoyed the wood fire keeping the food warm).

Once back in Ouro Preto we wandered streets we had not yet seen, and visited the Mine of Chico Rei, once one of the most important gold mines of the city. You pay vie reals for admission, with hard hat mandatory. Not until we went into the mine did I understand why. It is simply impossible not to bang your head, not once or twice, but countless times, and hard enough to cause serious damage without your hardhat. The rock above your head is low, and irregular, and the meager illumination means that you don't have a good sense of distances, where to step, and more importantly, where your head. I felt rather odd scrambling down the damp and dark tunnels, with an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia, especially when I thought of the slaves who had worked and suffered there, passing their days without seeing the sun. An interesting place to visit, almost a must, but I was certainly relieved when I saw the sky once more.

Having seen almost all the things that were not to be missed, we took in the city itself, seeing spots we had missed, taking in the details of the buildings, admiring the architecture of another age, and a very rich one. Ouro Preto, with its wealth of gold, was perhaps the only spot in the world where silver was more highly valued.

On our trip back we had planned to catch the direct overnight bus to Rio, leaving at 10 PM. With luck we would sleep the seven hours of the trip. Luckily we went by the bus station and got our tickets early and found that the usual bus was full, but that UTIL had added a second (and even so, most of the seats were already sold).

We picked up our bags (we travel light) at the pousada, and went for a final repast at Spaghetti, where we had a nice chat with a couple of Brits who were speaking English at the next table. The bus left with Britannic punctuality, but the trip is exhausting, since, unlike the bus to BH, which goes direct with no stops, UTIL stops at most of the little cities along the BR-040, and it is almost impossible to sleep, even if you are completely exhausted. We pulled into Rio on time at 5 AM (!!!), but the subway was already operating, and we headed towards home with smiling faces, recalling all the details of a magical city, with the scent of history, and proud to live in this incredible country called Brazil.

Travel to Ouro Preto