BlackNotBlack.com

First Hangover, Second Daytrip

Definitely need to lay off the caipirinhas.

That I remember from the first day waking up in Rio de Janeiro. Luckily, the curtains kept the direct sunlight from piercing through my eyelids. Did not stop me from covering my eyes with my forearm, just in case. One of the guys walked in as I awoke, asking, “Are you alive?”

“Technically,” I answered. Not an attempt at sarcasm, just reflexive dialog.

We’d bumped into some dude the night before at a club who informed us that they were not pouring good cachaca. Naturally, I did not let this stop me from ordering more caipirinhas. The first two rounds definitely tasted like rotgut. The third round tasted better, and each round thereafter tasted just perfect. Easy to presume the whole town planned to pour the cheap stuff during carneval, and I did not study up on brand recognition, so it basically made sense to stick to beer and wine from here on out, since the parties should last past sunrise.

In need of some breakfast, at 3 or 4 in the afternoon, I hustled the mate who was able to walk to join me for some pizza on the beach. Strolled down to Copacabana, had a pizza and beer at a baizhairinha. Could be the same spot from which we watched the sunrise. I recognized the club across the street every travel book said to avoid. HELP! the marquee advertised. I wondered if that advertised what they served, since the books said it catered to pushers, hookers, and thieves. We needed to find out the next night, because the sun was blazing pretty hot at the moment, and the rest of the population had a different rhythm than we could feel. Travelers shopping, locals jogging and playing volleyball. The energy felt better to explore one of the natural sites.

So we hopped in a taxi, requesting a trip to Pão de Azúcar—Sugar Loaf. The taxi driver was playing bossa nova, and he did not try to break any local speed records. The fare was cool, and the gate to Pão de Azúcar was visible. The gondola ride up to the first rock moved smooth and mellow. Perfect recipe for my current health and equilibrium. The second gondola took us up to the top, the actual loaf of sugar that seems to either grow from the Earth or was laid down gently an eon ago.

Even big pieces of rock can enjoy carneval.

The view does the reputation justice. We could look upon different communities around the city, as everybody seemed to flock to the beaches. It hit me how foolish it was to think to conquer every party in town during one trip. This city is huge, and carneval brings in an additional population. Nothing to conquer here, no need to make an impression, this place commands a bit of liberty. Sitting on top of this rock, I found it easier to examine one tree at a time, one flower at a time, as the bird songs set the ambiance.

A different place to live a different way. The university sits near the foot of Pão de Azúcar. I wondered how so many successful intellectuals, artists, and designers could live in Rio full time without going crazy.

posted by Gabacho Chingón @ 11:46 AM