Reminiscing in Rio

by Stefan Curcic (United Kingdom (Great Britain))

Making a local connection Brazil

A cool tropical breeze swept in gently through the open window and caressed my sweating brow like a mother’s touch. Laying in bed I pondered how late it was, it seemed like I had been tossing and turning for hours. I checked my phone, 22:37. My flight home was the next day, and I didn’t want another hungover flight. “Then again” I thought, “why not make the most of Rio while you’re here?”. I was staying in my buddy Youri’s apartment right on Copacabana beach and I had it all to myself, he had just left for Cuba. My thoughts wandered from my impending flight and began to reminisce upon my initial arrival in Rio. I flew in from Brasilia with my friend Pedro, I’ve known Pedro since our days in Portugal and he’s responsible for my love of Brazil, and more to the point Brazilians. It was a Friday evening when we flew in to Rio and on the flight Pedro told me “Get ready, because you’re about to see Rio at night!” I had to order another whiskey to ease my anticipation. As soon as we landed, we cabbed it straight to Youri’s apartment, he welcomed us with a big hug and a shot of rum. We quickly got dressed, took a couple more shots of rum and set off. As we got in a cab Pedro instructed the driver to take us to Botafogo, a district on the bay just next to Copacabana known for its trendy bars and clubs. I rolled down my window to get some air, it was sweet and cool and there seemed to be an electric vibe. And then, hovering above us like a ghostly apparition, the only world wonder to ever take my breath away. Luminescent in the night sky, Christ the Redeemer. This is probably as close as I will ever come to a religious experience. At that moment I fully understood the vision for this colossal monument. It seemed supernatural and if I didn’t immediately know what it was, I would have gone my whole life believing Christ himself had appeared before me. Soon after and still in awe, we arrived at a small local bar in Botafogo where I met another one of Pedro’s friends, Bia. She immediately disarmed me with a big, beautiful smile. After a couple of quick beers we decided to move on. Someone suggests a place nearby called Bukowski. Situated in a beautiful residential area it looked as though we had arrived at a frat party spilling out onto the streets. Bukowski was an old repurposed colonial mansion and in each of its rooms was a different stage. Entering into the folly what happened thereafter is a happy but hazy flashback of Caipirinhas, dancing, laughing and Bia’s perfect smile. Somehow amidst the revelry we all got seperated for a long while but luckily I ran into Bia just as the first cracks of daylight began to penetrate the night. I holler over the loud house music “Where is Pedro, Youri?” Just as she began to reply, Pedro and Youri appeared from behind her and we all embraced as if we hadn’t seen each other in years. While we were enjoying our impromptu group hug I told them I want to see the sun rise on Copacabana beach, they all smiled and nodded, Youri led us out. Later, as we lay there on the white sand, the sky changed before our eyes. Pastel pinks and oranges morphed as the sun lifted itself from behind Sugar Hill Loaf. We just lay there and enjoyed the show for a moment, then Bia turns to me and says “You know, it’s a local belief that if you dip your feet into the ocean before you leave Brazil, you will definitely come back.” Without hesitation I took off my shoes and dipped my feet in the frigid Atlantic. Still smiling at the memories, I took another look at the time, 22:43. I knew full well I was too excited to fall asleep, I started to scroll through my contacts. “Make the most of it” I thought to myself, stopping on the name I was looking for, Bia.