Rio de Janeiro city
According to Cariocas - the people of Rio de Janeiro - God made the world in six days and then spent the seventh lying on the beach in Ipanema. For in a city as beautiful as this, they say, only the philistine or the ungrateful would do anything else. Indeed, photographs cannot prepare you for Rio.
There is far more to the city than Corcovado capped with Christ or the Sugar Loaf; these are overtures to the grand symphony of the scene. Rainforest-covered boulder mountains as high as Snowdon rise sheer from the sea around the vast Guanabara Bay and stretch to the horizon. Their curves and jags are broken by long sweeping beaches of powder-fine sand pounded by the dazzling green ocean, or by perfect half-moon coves lapped by the gentle waters of the bay. The city clusters around them, climbing over hills and crowding behind beaches and lakes. Its neighbourhoods are connected by tunnels bored through the ancient rock or across winding double-decker highways that cling vertiginously to the cliffs above the fierce Atlantic Ocean.
Against this magical backdrop,
the famous Carioca day leisurely unwinds. When the sun is up the middle
classes head for the beach, wearing nothing but tiny speedos or
bikinis. Here they surf, play beach volleyball or football, or soak up
the rays between occasional dips into the waves, with the working day
just a brief interruption. When the sun is down, still wearing almost
nothing, they head for the botecos (street bars) for an ice-cold
draught beer or chope. Then they go home, finally put some clothes on
and prepare to go out until the early hours of the morning.
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