A short river taxi ride away from Ponta Negra, on the other side of a further tributary, lies the very pretty beach of Praia da Lua. Manaus isn’t actually on the banks of Amazon but on the mouth of its massive tributary, the Rio Negro.
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I wanted to join in the frolics, but with my frazzled skin I watched from the scant shade. After weeks of rain, half of Manaus was heading out to the beautiful city beaches of Ponta Negra, a few miles upriver. The following afternoon held more of those terrible blue skies and sunshine. My mind had changed again – maybe the heat wouldn’t be that bad. I later found out the England game kicks off at 6pm, the time the sun sets year-round. The sun had set and it was a lot less sweaty, enabling me to power back to my hotel for evening caipirinhas. Then afterwards, with the surrounding roads gridlocked, I decided to walk. I just sweltered in my seat, drained further by the heat and humidity in the bowl-like arena.īut as the second half got under way the sun lowered out of sight, revitalising the game and myself. These gangways weren’t walled off, so you could walk around the main concourse to view the game from any angle. And on the gangways, smiling patrols sauntered around in T-shirts. Inside, there were masses more, but less tooled up. Outside, long rows of riot cops scowled into the middle distance. Not in short supply, though, were the police. It wasn’t as big as it had seemed (only 42,374 capacity), the fixtures were sparse (with a lot seemingly unfinished), and the majority of the concrete walls were exposed. Later that afternoon I got to visit the Arena da Amazonia, where England will face Italy on June 14, for a local league game. If it was going to be dry season for the World Cup, this equatorial sun will be relentless. Within an hour I was completely sunburnt. I hadn’t even thought about sun cream, I’d only brought an umbrella. It sapped my energy and I was soaked in sweat. Setting off from there to walk into town, I was happy I’d be able to report that the whole heat thing had been overblown.īut as I meandered into colourful back streets that rolled down to the historic centre, the clouds parted and blue sky appeared.Īt first I was chuffed, as rain and storms had been predicted for my entire stay. I’d arrived after comfortable flights with Brazilian airline TAM via Sao Paulo and checked into my hotel, the Quality.
Outside there were moody skies and muggy air, but it wasn’t that hot. As well as informing me about the culinary delights that would be available at the match, he insisted it wouldn’t be that hot – and less humid as it would be the winter dry season.
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In response, the driver had written this song.
The fiercely proud citizens of Manaus had been incensed by England manager Roy Hodgson’s view that the city, way up in the Brazilian Amazon, was the last place he wanted to play due to the heat and humidity. But when I mentioned I was English, it was the green light for him to start gushing. Up until that point he’d hardly said a word. “That Englishman who’s complaining it’ll be hot,” he crooned as we passed the shiny new stadium where England will play in the World Cup, “doesn’t know in the arena there’ll be fried fish, prawns and booze. The taxi driver started knocking out a samba rhythm on the dashboard as we weaved across the lanes of the highway.
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