Life’s a beach

We had our first day without anything planned so decided to have a day on the beach. With all the different places we’ve been to and not that much time in each one, it feels like your wasting time doing “nothing”, but in Rio it felt like the right thing to do. It’s winter here so we haven’t seen a whole lot of sun, in fact I think it’s hotter in the UK right now, but at 28 degrees it’s definitely warm enough for us even though the Brazilians complain that it’s cold. No wonder, as in summer it’s over 40 and 80% humidity. No wonder they live on the beach.

I thought I’d get a chance to read my book but there’s too much people watching to do. Copacobana is like a mini city all in itself. Every third person is trying to sell you something. The usual bikinis, hats, sunglasses and wraps as well as food of all sorts, freshly grilled prawns, men trundling metal carts with boiling pots of corn, biscuits, crisps and ice cream, and trays of the ubiquitous cocktail caipirinha in all varieties. Then there’s hair braids, tattoos and hammocks and marijuana.

In a different world we’d be coming home stoned and tatted up, but we settled for a cocktail and a Jesus beach towel for me and a fake Brazil football shirt for Tim. Apparently there’s a player called Naymar?

The sea is cold and the currents too dangerous for swimming anyway. Lots of surfers though and paddlers. I was the only woman in a one piece. Young girls wear bigger bikinis but the women my age wear the teeny thongs up their butt cheeks. And the men love their budgie smugglers. The arse is the thing here. No one is topless.

Lunch at the hotel pool and then a short walk to Ipanema. Apparently Cocacabana is the tourist beach, Ipanema the posh one. Both have their charms but Ipanema comes into its own at sunset. The waves crash so high that the spray forms a mist that gives it an ethereal air.

Towards sunset people gather at the rocks to watch. Tradition has it that you have a glass of champagne and applaud as the sun sets. No champagne to be seen but plenty of beer and caipirinhas as everyone watched the surfers in monochrome against the misty reddening sky. Stunning. No wonder that tanned and lovely tall girl kept walking up Ipanema beach every day.

We were told that Ronaldinho has recently paid £30 million for a 2 bed flat overlooking the beach. I must have misheard. That doesn’t sound right.

We walked home through a park which was full of people dressed in shiny gypsy outfits, not unlike Daisy’s Esmarelda phase. Music, food and lots of tents with people queuing for tarot card readings. Also a star spangled cave where they were lighting candles and laying baskets of fruit and flowers. Not a clue what was going on.

After last night’s meat fest , Tim was all for having a bowl of pasta but ended up going for the traditional dish of feijoada. Black beans, rice, baked flour, oranges, cassava and meat. When I say meat, it’s a whole pot of whatever meat they have. No idea what was in it but the possibilities ranged from steak to pigs ears. South Americans do not do small portions.

Then a small bar hoping to hear some music. It was a tiny place, the musicians inside and audience on their street. If you wanted a drink you helped yourself from the fridge and let the owner know. Holding court outside he looks like an elderly Orson Wells and sounds like Spike the dog. Several guitarists played while a woman sang a very gentle bossa nova, so low key it was like there was no audience. Instead of clapping after songs they clicked their fingers. A man stood holding political signs and then the owner made a very passionate speech. My Portuguese is rubbish so not a clue what he was saying, but he said Brazil and “my country” over and over and there was something about not having a coup and the crowd were wholeheartedly agreeing with him. Teresa May should take some tips. Get a cool bossa nova vibe going on Teresa….