We must have looked like two fugitives with a kid when we showed up at the hotel forty minutes later.
Browsing: Del Pacífico al Atlántico
“Hey folks, looks like the weather is pretty bad in Ottawa, we are waiting to see if visibility improves to land,” the pilot suddenly announced.
Rio de Janeiro is the bimbo, the cheerleader and São Paulo is the not-so-pretty grunge kid with a quirky, artsy and rebellious soul, moody like the unreliable weather.
There were people everywhere, spilling onto neighbouring side streets, marching downhill and I just couldn’t see the end of it.
Carnival and the crowd of revellers had taken over the city centre—or rather, the city centre had been handed over to the people, taken over by craziness of the event.
Anticipation built up all week. The atmosphere was electric, like before a storm. It finally exploded Friday evening.
Here are the people of Rio de Janeiro, a collection of candid shots taken all over the city during the week before Carnival!
From the top of the Pão de Açúcar, you can really appreciate how crowded Copacabana is, how tall the Corcovado Hill, how long the beaches are.
Rio de Janeiro isn’t an easy city. Safety is a real issue and if one street is fine, the other around the corner may not be.
This is the miscellaneous FYI info that won’t be on the postcard’s caption and this is what travel guides won’t tell you.
An image comes to mind: a black couple kissing in the middle of the street, completely lost to the pounding drums.
Drink, dance, sing. Repeat. Anything goes, really.
Good thing there is a thermos of hot, black coffee in the hotel lobby. I pour myself a cup, then another one. It’s early, way too early.
We reached a geographical and metaphorical plateau, far from the beach, for once.
I don’t know if Brazil is dangerous. What I do know is that I feel safe enough to enjoy the country.
Brazilians are fairly litteral: when they nickname a museum the “Museu do Olho”—the “Eye Museum”—it actually looks like a giant eye.
I took the laptop out of backpack and turned it on. Just for a minute, to see if I could actually get a signal.
Someone, somewhere, really got addicted to SimCity and decided to play the game in real life. Click, add building. Click, add tower.
In an ideal world, I’d eat Brazilian food on an Argentinian schedule.
At street level, Florianópolis Centro doesn’t look so spread out. But the skyline from the top of any building proves you wrong.
It was loud, colourful and fun. And Carnival hasn’t even started yet.
It was a lucky day. Perfect beach, perfect weather.
I’m pretty convinced that 75% of the Brazilian textile and fashion industry is dedicated to bikinis.
Praia de Moçambique had it all: beach bums, some fun, then a long, deserted stretch of sand.