Yes, it was just that…a large exhale of air, filled with excitement and relaxation. There are very few cities I fall in love with, but Rio, I could live in Rio. It’s a city alive with everything. Music, dancing, laughter, beauty, and lots of people enjoying the beach.
It is quite evident that the beach is a part of life here. We have a saying back home—“life is a beach.” In Rio, life is the beach. If you live in Rio, you go to the beach every Saturday and Sunday. Your adult friendly leagues of volleyball and soccer are, you guessed it, played on the beach. It’s election year in Brazil, and I had the opportunities to see candidates campaigning on the beach (because that’s where all the people are). It’s crowded, but not in the, get off of me, you are invaded my personal space kind of way. It’s crowded because that is what you do, that is where you live, that is who you are, and it’s comfortable crowded. Three lanes of the highway that hugs the coast is closed on Sunday to allow more people to enjoy the beach. Add to the beach lots of street vendors with good food, good drinks. You can indulge on a coconut or grilled minus cheese.
Not only is the surf and sand a way of life, but the beaches are simply beautiful. Soft white sand curls between your toes as you watch the surf come to shore. And, it’s clean and safe. There is little land between the beach and the mountains. Normally, the poor inhabit the city, but here, the middle and upper class rule the small amount beachfront property. The favelas are on a mountain. That’s right…the poor live in the suburbs. But mind you, because they live on the mountain, they too enjoy ocean views.
It’s a very relaxed town. There’s no reason to hurry, no reason to worry. I have a great sense of direction, and rarely get lost or turned around. It has come in handy many times during my travels. However, this was one of those cities in which I simply had no idea where I was. This happened while in a cab and while wondering by foot. There I was…alone, female, walking. But the vibe of the city infected me. I had my trusty (and tourist-y) map, found my way, and went on at the slow, but methodical rhythm of my surroundings.
After a long day, you might grab a drink, and sit on a lounge chair. As you look to the sky, you suddenly realize there is a flock of 20-30 birds only 10 meters circling above you. At first, the thought that you are dead and they are scavengers crosses your mind. Then you realize the birds have caught a draft of air coming off the mountains, heading seaward. They are simply being birds. They are looking down at the human population, laughing, taunting us, because we have no means to fly on our own.
Rio is a city that embraces the outdoors. You see surfboards, runners, bikers, skateboarders, dogs (BIG dogs like Great Danes and Saint Bernards), people walking, children playing. Lots of soccer and volleyballs, lots of laughter and music.
Friday night, I asked the concierge to recommend a restaurant. I wanted something fun, but nothing outland-ish. She recommend a “quaint” restaurant—her word, not mine. Little did I know…part of the charm of the restaurant was breaking wine bottles and dishes (don’t go barefoot). When a waiter “accidentally” breaks a glass, a dish, the whole crowd gets to join in. It was fun and therapeutic. I went to Corcovado. That’s the name of the mountain the statue sits on, and it translates into “hunchback.”
It is quite evident that the beach is a part of life here. We have a saying back home—“life is a beach.” In Rio, life is the beach. If you live in Rio, you go to the beach every Saturday and Sunday. Your adult friendly leagues of volleyball and soccer are, you guessed it, played on the beach. It’s election year in Brazil, and I had the opportunities to see candidates campaigning on the beach (because that’s where all the people are). It’s crowded, but not in the, get off of me, you are invaded my personal space kind of way. It’s crowded because that is what you do, that is where you live, that is who you are, and it’s comfortable crowded. Three lanes of the highway that hugs the coast is closed on Sunday to allow more people to enjoy the beach. Add to the beach lots of street vendors with good food, good drinks. You can indulge on a coconut or grilled minus cheese.
Not only is the surf and sand a way of life, but the beaches are simply beautiful. Soft white sand curls between your toes as you watch the surf come to shore. And, it’s clean and safe. There is little land between the beach and the mountains. Normally, the poor inhabit the city, but here, the middle and upper class rule the small amount beachfront property. The favelas are on a mountain. That’s right…the poor live in the suburbs. But mind you, because they live on the mountain, they too enjoy ocean views.
It’s a very relaxed town. There’s no reason to hurry, no reason to worry. I have a great sense of direction, and rarely get lost or turned around. It has come in handy many times during my travels. However, this was one of those cities in which I simply had no idea where I was. This happened while in a cab and while wondering by foot. There I was…alone, female, walking. But the vibe of the city infected me. I had my trusty (and tourist-y) map, found my way, and went on at the slow, but methodical rhythm of my surroundings.
After a long day, you might grab a drink, and sit on a lounge chair. As you look to the sky, you suddenly realize there is a flock of 20-30 birds only 10 meters circling above you. At first, the thought that you are dead and they are scavengers crosses your mind. Then you realize the birds have caught a draft of air coming off the mountains, heading seaward. They are simply being birds. They are looking down at the human population, laughing, taunting us, because we have no means to fly on our own.
Rio is a city that embraces the outdoors. You see surfboards, runners, bikers, skateboarders, dogs (BIG dogs like Great Danes and Saint Bernards), people walking, children playing. Lots of soccer and volleyballs, lots of laughter and music.
Friday night, I asked the concierge to recommend a restaurant. I wanted something fun, but nothing outland-ish. She recommend a “quaint” restaurant—her word, not mine. Little did I know…part of the charm of the restaurant was breaking wine bottles and dishes (don’t go barefoot). When a waiter “accidentally” breaks a glass, a dish, the whole crowd gets to join in. It was fun and therapeutic. I went to Corcovado. That’s the name of the mountain the statue sits on, and it translates into “hunchback.”
I hopped over to the rain forest, saw wild monkeys and raccoons, went to the Chinese lookout, to downtown, and to Sugarloaf. I visited a couple of street fairs—the best by far was the “Hippie Market.” It’s been in existence for over 60 years and has hand crafted arts by locals. I normally buy 1 or 2 items…but I picked up a number of Christmas gifts here…certainly more than I expected. Saturday night, I went Samba dancing…with one of the schools that participate in Carnival. It was fun (and late). It started at 11PM and I got home at 3AM. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m usually in bed by 10—need my beauty sleep.This is a not a city that one can simply visit and enjoy in 2 days. This is a place to spend time, to relax, to explore. I’ll be back.
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