What to say about Rio during Carnival…
Well, the biggest, most famous street party in the world? Is 2 parts awesome and 1 part absolutely terrifying. Seriously, you have never seen anything like this. The fun part about Carnival is that it’s – apparently – just a party for the sake of a party; and it is one huge party.
Of course, a lot of people go to the Sambadrome – a huge all night dance parade that clamours through until 7am with – as far as I know – no breaks. But the Sambadrome is not the only party, in fact many would say it’s not even the real party. The real Carnival is in the streets. Huge block parties with massive moving stages that draw the crowd with them along the beaches, their thumping bassline rattling windows and ribcages alike. It is an amazing experience.
Our first day in Rio we didn’t do any of the big parties. Instead, we went to Sugarloaf Mountain, because I had never been there. It was a cloudy day, but the view from the top was still breathtaking, especially when Christ The Redeemer just peeked out of the clouds in the distance, looking for all the world like a floating totem pole in the heavens. The Redeemer was not in the cards for us this trip – since we had both been there before and there was only one crew tour being offered. We have found we usually do better exploring on our own. And exploring was easier this time, because in a very rare turn of events Amras actually had several days off in a row (trust me, that does not happen often) so we had no actual deadline to work around. On the way down from Sugar Loaf we encountered the “Museum of Illusion” which gleefully dragged Amras into to shoot pictures of being abducted by aliens and trapped within giant glass bottles (have to love perspective!) before loading back into our waiting cab and making our way back to the ship to pick up what we would need for the rest of the night (we were booked into a hotel for the evening).
Now, there’s something to be said for trying to get around during Carnival: it is insane. Roads closed, traffic backed up – and even when the roads are open? They are clogged with people. A few blocks from the ship the cab crawled nearly to a halt and we were surrounded by…people. Not angry people, not a frightening mob, people…who were happy. Probably more than slightly drunk…but happy. People kissing in the streets, wearing feathers or dressed as Greek gods. This is not the kind of traffic jam you will ever see anywhere else.
As it turns out there was a massive gay carnival parade being hosted in the warehouse right next to the ship..which I imagine at least some people onboard weren’t quite prepared for.
As for us, we were in a hotel on Barra beach, which – when we arrived – did have a swinging block party practically underneath our balcony (which did not do good things for my headache at the time) but they wrapped up much earlier than we expected and left us with a quiet evening with nothing but the huge breakers rolling in on the beach.
And a pool that had no one in it. When I was little I never understood why my Mum always insisted on swimming only in the evening when we travelled. Little me didn’t quite get the concept of “quiet”. I get it now. There is something incredibly peaceful about being the only one in the water, barely making a ripple as you move back and forth. That pool, that evening swim, was worth the whole weekend.
The next morning we walked Copacabana. Now…this may be one of the most famous beaches in the world – but this time of year? It’s also one of the busiest. You can’t see the famous patterned sidewalk for all the people, souvenir sellers and sand art set up on top of it. The beach itself was actually fairly empty – and we found out why fairly early on. Those same breakers that had been rolling in on Barra beach? Also make themselves known here. We were standing at the back edge of the beach, nearly up against the raised wall of the sidewalk , when suddenly Amras yelps at me to jump…I managed to save the shoulder bag that had all our gear in it (as well as Applejack, who prefers not to get wet), but didn’t quite manage to save myself from the huge breaker that rolled in and soaked me to the knees.
The amusing thing is that if I had somehow jumped and landed in the other direction, I would have landed on the glass full of squished limes that was on the wall next to us…so I still would have been wet, but I would have smelled like lime juice…
That probably would have been okay too.
Carnival is a fascinating slice of humanity, Amras and I speak about five words of portragese between us (water, check please and thank you being the only ones that I know), so it was only on rare occasions that we could understand what was being said around us. But you don’t need to. You just kind of…take it in. The drums are everywhere and they mix with the sound of the water and the rhythm of people’s feet on the sidewalk and where else do you see people of all stripes dancing in the street anyway?
When we finally got back to the ship on the final afternoon I was amazed to find out that there were people who were complaining about having been here during Carnival. Now, I will admit that there were parts of this weekend that did not go as planned…but Carnival itself is not something I complained about, people dream about experiencing something like this.
Rio may not be my favourite city, and sure – it’s not Buenos Aires with it’s history and its tango shows…but it is an experience…and one that, overall, I am still very grateful to have the chance to check off my list.