The idiot of Amazonia Hostel Belém

It’s likely to be the owner because I can’t imagine any living soul who actually would employ this fellow.  The guy with a beer-stomach twice as large as the t-shirt he is wearing together with his dirty waist drawstring-trousers, haunting the Amazonia Hostel, is a complete idiot. It is confirmed.

The webpage says that the hostel has internet. I was on a very tight schedule and needed to check if my flight had been confirmed before going to the airport next day. I asked and he said it didn’t work. “Will it work tomorrow?” I replied. No, it wouldn’t. Maybe on Friday they would come and fix it. I spent a couple of hours of my valuable time trying to find an internet cafe with my five-year old guidebook (I call it Lying Planet because nothing in it is correct anymore) but eventually I found one and I was relieved to see that all was OK and working fine so far. I spent the rest of the day visiting sights of Belém before sleeping, tired after the night bus.

In the morning next day, I tried to connect to the Internet just for fun while eating breakfast and IT WORKED!!! I asked the fat guy about it and he had no idea. It should not work. Maybe it worked all the time then. Well, everyone can do a mistake. I should not judge you by the look. I then asked how to get to the airport. “Yes it’s very easy”, he said. “Just take the bus outside the hostel, it takes just 30 minutes”. “Perfect. “I have time to see more of Belém”, I thought.  I came back later, packed my bag and took the bus he had indicated, just outside the hostel. He said it would go to the centre, turn around and, whoosh, all the way to the airport.

To the centre it went. Then out in the suburb. Then back into Belem following the outskirts. No sign of the airport. “Have I missed it?” I thought after a while. I was sure I hadn’t because you just don’t miss an airport. Missing an airport terminal isn’t like zooming past a McDonalds by accident. And I couldn’t have taken the wrong bus because it had “Aeroporto” written on it, and I even asked the ticket guy if it passed the airport. He said yes. This bus is definitely passing the airport.

I was giving it a little bit more time as traffic moved slowly. Many thoughts later, I had been on the bus for much more than an hour. It was packed and stopped everywhere. Every stop and every corner. I thought about Ryan Air flights; check-in closes 40 minutes before departure. It was now just 45 minutes before departure. I hoped it would be different on national Brazilian flights, but I wasn’t quite sure. And the bus just cruised on, in turtle-speed traffic. “I’m giving it five minutes more”, I thought.  “If I can’t see the airport, I get off!”  After five minutes, there were no sign of an airport. Still in the city even. Houses all around and no large roads, which normally surround airports. “Damn idiot” I thought. “Burn in Hell”.

I jumped off the packed bus in frustration, found a taxi within two minutes and asked for the airport. “And quickly please as it must be very close”(!) The old man in the taxi said, “Woo, it’s far. It will be at least £8” (With Brazilian taxi fares, that’s relatively far). “Shit!”. But as it was still almost 40 minutes to departure I thought of taking the chance. The taxi got through a couple of areas with road works with slow traffic but it must have taken only somewhere between 10-15 minutes in total to reach the airport, although it felt more like 25. I ran inside the terminal, found the TAM counters and queued up. It can’t have been much more than 20 minutes to departure and I was sure I was fried. My perfect plan spoiled. All fried, like a haddock on Kevin Kay’s barbeque.

But surprisingly, it was still possible to check-in. Even AFTER the boarding had started. Amazing that is. I thanked my good Lord and lucky star; I will not forget this.

I ran through the luggage checkpoints and joined the boarding queue. I sat down in the cabin and I could finally breathe when I spotted my bag in the luggage trolley outside (phew!). I relaxed and thought about the idiot of Amazonia Hostel. 30 minutes. Fucking idiot.