24th October 2006. Arrival in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

After a long flight delay I have finally made it to Rio having spent almost seven hours in the airport at Buenos Aires.

Coming in over the city I attempted to take photographs of the beauty of the natural harbour on which the city sits, although only sight can do such a wonder justice.

Its sounds strange to say, as I have never been to Rio before, but it feels like coming home.

Maybe I am just on a high from my wonderful Lima experience and the warmth of my time with Margarita and Tim, or maybe it is simply because I felt so welcome in Sao Paulo?

If Rio can live up to Sao Paulo than I am in for a wonderful time. The Brazilian people I have met thus far have been extremely warm and friendly and I see no reason for things to be different in Rio.

I am met at the airport by my friend, the President of the English-Speaking Union of Brasil, Jorge Reis and our driver Rico.

A quick trip to my hotel, I am actually staying at Copacabana beach can you believe it!!!, and then it is on to one of Rio´s icons...the Sugar Loaf Mountain.

Sugar Loaf sits at the mouth of Guanabara Bay on a peninsula that juts out into the Atlantic. The peak rises to some 1,300ft and is actually accessed by a cable car ride that first takes you up Dog Face Mountain where you join a second cable car to the Sugar Loaf summit.

The mountain is so-called because of its resemblance to a concentrated refined sugar loaf. Although, the academic explanation is that the name derives from the Tupi-Guarani language of the Tamoios indigenous peoples and actually means simply high-hill...so take your pick!

The cable car here was built in 1912 and on exhibition there is an original car that plied the route from 1913-1972 when the new, 75 passenger cars, were introduced.

Sugar Loaf mountain is the most famous of the morros of granite and quartz rising from the waters edge around Rio.

And on this trip what else could Jorge and I do but indulge in a Caipirinha as dusk fell over Rio.

My first night in Rio and I cannot quite believe it, but I am actually dining on Copacabana beach, at Restaurante Transa.

I could not have had a better day in many ways.

My conversation today has been enlightening for me personally.

I am well aware that I may be physically recovered, more or less from the attack, but psychologically it remains a big issue for me.

In talking with Jorge I am, for the first time, understood.

Having worked, in a voluntary capacity, with crime victims in the UK; I have in the last few months found myself on the receiving end of those same well meaning platitudes that I also delivered to my clients.

It is very true what they say. You can never actually know what someone is going through unless you have endured the same experiences yourself.

Jorge tells me about being car-jacked at gun point here in his home city.

As we discuss; it is not actually the material items that are stolen that hurt in the long term, it is the fact an individual, or group of individuals, steal from you your sense of self-belief, of security and even of self-worth.

As I have said earlier, everyone in South America seems to have a story and I am made aware of the fact that most workers with the Cultura also have a story.

Facing up to my fears is the hardest road I have ever travelled and each new day is bringing its challenges, but also its rewards, and I must make sure that the positives outweigh the negatives!!!