Rio de Janeiro: first day

My first day in Rio

To my surprise, it’s raining hard during my bus trip from São Paulo to Rio de Janeiro, or in short, from Sampa to Rio. In São Paulo I have spent a super time in the company of lovely people who, with their hospitality and generosity, have made me feel immediately at home in this yet unifamiliar land. These Paulistas (= inhabitants of São Paulo) must have shown me the best of their city, but despite feeling very comfortable in this huge city I can't stay - I must move on to explore more and hop on a bus.

The Rio taxi from the bus station takes me along various gigantic rocks of the erstwhile capital of Brazil, but to my disappointment the famous statue of Jesus the Redeemer with the welcoming open arms is hidden in the low-hanging clouds. This reminds me of the one and only day that I was in the Grand Canyon in the US; it was so cloudy that nothing of the canyon was visible, to the extent that I joked that the Grand Canyon might not really exist but possibly was a card board copy on a film set. Was that impressive and imposing image of Christ on a rock in Rio merely a CGI perhaps? Surely not!

My destination is the apartment of yet another very generous and lovely host - I can hardly believe my luck. Also, her place is a mere 100 meters from Ipanema Beach. Wow, even more luck coming my way! No matter the cloudy weather, I simply must explore the beach.Setting foot on the soft sand of Ipanema almost feels historic. This is it! The sea water smell hitting my nostrils adds to my excitement. I take off my new, typically Brazilian flipflops, which I got from my Paulista friend, to walk to the water. The Atlantic Ocean waves wash over my feet a dozen times before I decide to stroll westwards. This is going to be a foot massage of several kilometers. The rock at the end of the beach reminds me of a rotten wisdom tooth waiting to be extracted. There is not a patch of blue in the sky, and it's overcast, with a thick haze of mist hanging over the sea. I count as few as only a dozen people in the shallow parts of the water and, on this weekday the wide beach is practically deserted. Looking down I see an ice cube glistening in the sand. Did somebody just empty an icebox on the beach before returning home from a beach picnic? A split second before I kick the ice cube into the water, I realize that it must be a colourless jellyfish. An ice cube... yeah, right! I had better not touch it. I look up and am taken aback by the sudden view of some distant rocks that emerge from the partly disappearing sea mist. Minutes before I couldn't even have suspected that Rio has a few islands in front of its coast.

Walking on I know that Ipanema Beach has changed into the chique Leblon Beach somewhere along the way, with the toothlike rock marking its end. I pass a few guys playing football on the sand. Gee, do all Brazilian men have such gorgeous bodies? And does the entire population of this country foster such positive body images, and stroll with such a confident swagger? Shame? What body shame? Brazilians could teach the world a thing or two.

It has started to drizzle and the islands have disappeared again in the thick, purple, moisty layer. I deliberate whether I should follow the road going up on the toothy rock, which is actually called "Two Brothers", as I learn later - no dental decay at all. Since I can spot some plastic tables and chairs under sunshades at a location that undoubtedly offers a magnificant view even on a grey day, the decision is easy, and I saunter up the windy road. I sit down and order a caipirinha (When in Rome...  right?). In São Paulo I already tasted the sugarcane liquor, once with lime and once with kiwi, so let me go this time for its combination with "maracuja", passion fruit. The view from my position is indeed stunning, with or without islands in the distance, but I should not linger too much; there is still a long way to walk back. Instead of the sand I choose the paved sidewalk this time, so attractive with its black-and-white wavy designs. Temperatures are still in the high twenties; I can frequently read that information along the boulevard. It'a great feature of the major roads that I have seen so far in Sampa and Rio. At regular intervals an electronic advertising board shows the time and the temperature. I wish that Vancouver had the same system for its street ads.

It’s time to return to the comfortable apartment and have a rest after all the walking. For tomorrow’s agenda I will keep the eastern part of the beach, plus the café where Antonio Jobim and Vinicius de Morães frequently met to watch that young woman passing by and then composed their world famous “Garota de Ipanema”. I will also explore another well-known beach, which my friend from Portugal informs me got called “the little sea princess” by Jobim: Copacabana.