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Monday - Beach & X-demente
We arrived mid-day into the International airport, a half-hour North of the city center. The airport is drab but the mountains surrounding it are majestic, deep dark green rising and falling in steep strokes but rounded in soft tops. On the way in we pass one favela (slum) after another. The government has painted some of these mud huts multi-colored to distract from the dirt and decay, the danger that lurks. In the sun these areas look happy. We also pass much industry, plants and warehouses, shipyards, etc... Although some of the warehouses look to be at least a hundred years old and not maintained. It is hard to tell if they are still in use or have been abandoned. We enter the center which is bustling at this hour and filthy. Just then an Australian girl on the bus turns to her friend and says, "I've been hear three weeks and I still can't figure out why, for some reason, they like throwing shredded paper out the window." Just then a hail comes pouring past our window.
We check into our hotel a block from Ipanema beach and head out for a light snack and then the beach. We meet some local guys who advise us to go to a party called "X-Demente," pronounced shay-dementsh. They tell us it is the biggest and best party of the year and not to be missed, although they note that the price went up and we are likely to find few locals who can afford to go.
The beach is fun, the people beautiful, but the water is cold and dirty, the space crowded and because the waterfront is overbuilt with 1980s concrete 15-story buildings. Rio's real treasures, the mountains, are out of view. We head back to our room to nap, deciding despite our jet lag that we should go to this "best party of the year." I always hate when I travel and some one says to me, "you can not miss...." Because if I don't go I'm always wondering what I missed and if I go my expectations have been set high.
So we went, and we were certainly glad we did. There was a long line to get into the club when we arrived. To help pass the time some entrepreneurs had set up full bars on carts to serve drinks to the crowd (at about half the price as in the club). We befriend a guy in line from Sao Paulo who gets us the local's price for drinks. We have our first Caipirinha, the Brazilian drink made with sugar, lime and cachasa (Brazilian alcohol made from sugar cane). The club is held in an old converted factory that sits 100 feet from "The Arcs" a 6 story romanesque white-washed aqueduct built in the 18th century but no longer in use (except as a bridge for a train). We eventually get in and the club is stunning.
Wide brushed metal steal stairs with frosted glass flooring rise slowly to a platform of thick frosted glass and then to the second floor. The glass is lit dramatically from underneath with red and lavender. The second floor is a tall 4 story atrium made of brick with striking orange spotlights careening across the walls. The floor has two wide diamonds cut in them that allow you to look down on the main dance floor - a sea of flesh, slashing lights and motion. Off in an unused corner is an oversized spiral staircase of rusted steal spinning itself up to a dark loft. Three balconies just out from the loft as if a second floor had once existed and the had been shipped away at only to leave these three evenly shaped triangles, the guts of the flooring exposed.
Walking to the back right corner of the room there are two tunnels, one appears to go to a storage area, the other to more pulsing music. We go to that one. Although it has a roof two stories above us there is only a sheet where the outer wall should be and a large open-air staircase on the other wall. Where as the other two rooms played competing pure techno music this room has excellent alternative house. We go up the stairs and find ourselves on the large roof with many people on it. We look out on the dirt field that separates the club from the arches and the dramatic white lit arches themselves. We note an 8 story high large concrete silo beside the club and speculate on what it might be. It is hexagonal and peaks. We notice lights flashing with it and decide to see if it is connected. The sky is clear and the air tepid. We move on back down the stairs, and head down the tunnel we thought went to storage and find ourselves in an enormous amphitheater. The bass beats clamor through the chamber and overwhelm. The place is packed.
We stay and dance until 5:30AM and leave at the point that the only people who remain are on drugs.
Tuesday - Beach & Fireworks
We wake at 2:30PM and head out for a bite and to shop for white pants. The tradition is to dress all in white and go to the beach with white flowers on New Years Eve. We pick up some pants on the cheaps and then head to the beach. Craig goes off to swim while I strive to relax on the beach and read a trashy mystery novel I picked up at the airport - it is worse than I expected, It is impossible. The locals don't go to the beach to relax. The Brazilians are a beautiful and very physical people. On the beach they stand around talking and molesting themselves. Frequently throughout casual conversation the men (both gay and straight) will casually play with themselves through their speedos. The women caress their large rears or belly buttons. You try and read a bad mystery novel with that going on all around you.
Craig befriends a nice group of guys while swimming who are up from Sao Paulo. We meet up with them again at the end of our trip in Sao Paulo.
We stay on the beach until sunset - it is stunning and romantic and as the last rays rest behind the Ocean everyone on the beach begins to applaud. The last sunset of 2002. We regroup, shower and rest before heading out to dinner around 9PM. Everyone, 3 million people that is, will head to Copacabana beach tonight with flowers to toss into the ocean at midnight. Tradition has it that you toss white flowers endowed with your hopes and dreams for the new year and ask the Goddess of the Sea to make them come true. If the tide carries your flowers out the wishes will be granted. If she returns your flower back to shore you are out of luck. We take our flowers and head out. All the restaurants are closed so we walk and walk and walk, picking up food at stands until we get to Copacabana. We hadn't realized that there would be throngs of food and beverage vendors.
Copacabana beach is huge and we walk 2/3rds of it to get to the gay beach. When we travel we don't always go to the gay areas, but in a country we don't know on a night that is romantic we try and go where we know we won't be harassed. There are four main stages of performers running till midnight. The stages are spread evenly across the two miles of beach and large screens and speakers are set up so the crowds can see and hear. The gay beach is situated exactly between two stages so we are at times at the outer edge of the sound for either stage and other times at the point of their mixing. We get close to the water ready with our flowers. Once there we find that the gay beach is point of fact not so gay on this night. But we do run into Mark & Carlos, a gay couple we know through our friend Boon. They are traveling with a large group of friends of theirs from South America. We had actually run into this same group only a year earlier on our vacation in Puerto Vallarta.
At midnight, one of the most spectacular fireworks displays begins. Seven barges in the bay shoot non-stop. It is exciting. We toss our flowers into the water shimmering under the fire exploding above. After about twenty minutes they give a big finish and just when we think it is all over two hotels at either of the beach shoot their own fireworks. After ten more minutes of this and we really think things are done the one closest to us sparks at one corner. Bright pure white fire starts to rain down from the roof of the building - for a moment we are scared that this is unplanned. Then it spreads evenly across the front of the building and then around all sides until the entire building is wrapped in a sheet of blazing white light cascading from the edge of the roof. It was astounding.
We hang out for a bit on the beach and end up befriending a group of young gays and lesbians who invite us to a rave on another beach. Pedro, a young guy who works at the tourism desk at the airport becomes our guide for the night.
We get to bed late but very happy to have spent the new year here.
Wednesday - Corcovado & Bofetada & Brazilians
In the morning we meet up with Pedro again and head with him to Corcovado. He has a friend who works there and gets us all on the train to the top for free. Corcovado is the mountain with the big Jesus made from soap stone on the top. The views are magnificent from this art deco hunk of kitsch. Looking down over the sides you can get a good view of the favelas creeping up the steep mountain sides like a disease on the forests. The mountain sits on the edge of a national park that displays the true beauty of Rio.
This is me, Pedro and our buddy Jesus.
When we get down we are offered a ride to the H.Stern Jewelry factory and shop, which happens to be three blocks from our hotel so we agree to it to save money on the taxi. The shop actually has an informative museum which puts a positive spin on the exploitation of the land and native people by the Portuguese - something along the lines of bringing civilization to the Amazon. At the end of the museum tour - which comes with free audio guide in any language, we are delivered to the shop where it is striking how light skinned all the clerks are and many are blond. They serve free mixed drinks to boot so we and Pedro look at some items. I contemplate getting my mother something until I actually look at the jewelry designs. Let's just say, not her style.
After a long nap we meet up with Pedro (our new best friend) at a bar called Bofetada a few blocks from our hotel. Turn the corner past the McDonalds and there they are - all the same hotties from the beach, many still in their flip-flops, speedos and no shirt. But now they're drinking. We run into Mark & Carlos and their crowd and then our friend David from San Francisco is there with his then boyfriend Nirmalpal. We have a great time catching up with them and make plans with both couples to hang out again. We take Pedro to dinner at a restaurant above the bar to thank him for being such a great host and we invite another local couple to join us, Ivan and Marcello. They are both darker skinned Brazilians and we enjoy getting their perspective, despite their halting English. We order three simple entrees and they turn out all to be fried with fried potatoes and are large enough to each feed 2-3 people. We turn in relatively early.
Thursday- Downtown & Modern Art Museum & Copacabana & Le Boy
We start by taking a bus into the city center. This is our day to put aside Rio the Resort and explore Rio the City. The bus we are on hits severe traffic when we hit Copacabana looking at the map we see that we are only a few blocks from the metro stop so we hop off and adjust our plan. We veer out of our way slightly to stop at a large open air street market full of tropical fruits and vegetables.
At one stand we pointed at a fruit and asked the guy what the name of it was and he gave us each a piece to try, casaba. The market also had astounding fresh meats and fish, tables of spices piled high. We moved through the four blocks of market and arrived at the metro station. The metro line is relatively new in Rio but you wouldn't know it from the exterior of the station. A small neglected park sits in front with overgrown vegetation and in the middle of the park is a stone Chanukiah without explanation. We head into the station. It is cool and new and the train that arrives is shiny and clean. We arrive downtown quickly at the main square. We read our guide book on the way about what we expect to find and there isn't much. The older buildings are few and far between and not terribly exciting. We walk towards a park down one of the main roads and are turned off by much of what we see. There are three and four story older buildings that look like they are about to fall over. The park is full of dangerous looking vagabonds. We walk back through small back streets that are like a little Italy or Chinatown, selling cheap everything. Two things are notable: 1) overhead every twenty feet there are speakers strung across blaring advertisements for the local shops, 2) Several shops are selling body hugging silver and gold lamay hot pants they have displayed on mannequins with curiously large rears. From here we walk back through the center and cross a 10 lane freeway to get to the Modern Art Museum. The museum's collection was mediocre, except for some photos of the charming downtown of yesteryear which is nowhere to be found.
This is a view of downtown from the art museum. As you can see, it is not a very interesting skyline. We metro back and spend an hour or so on the beach at Copacabana, but it is another cloudy day and there are few people out. We dine that night with Mark and Carlos at a restaurant on the lagoon behind Ipanema. The lagoon was once crystal clear and where native people settled. It is now extremely dirty and used by boaters and jet skis. In the middle of the lagoon they had a faux christmas tree floating on a buoy. The tree was three stories high and really just a wire frame on which multi-colored lights were strung and blinked in various patterns. After dinner we picked up their friends and all walked to a large gay club called Le Boy by Gilles (a famous Paris club promoter). At some point they launched a drag show that included a young queen performing in a fabulous American Flag outfit and cape to the theme from "Fame." Halfway through she puts on a yellow and green feather headdress, rips off her American flag outfit to reveal a Brazilian flag leotard and finishes the rest of the number in Portuguese. We stumble home exhausted and happy with the night.
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