By Angus Beazley
Listening to Vanessa da Matta’s Boa Sorte while I browse the brightly coloured memories in my camera roll, remembering Rio sunsets, it can’t help but bring on a full-blown ‘saudade’ (longing) for what was certainly one of the most unforgettable places and periods in my life. When people ask me what the best place I visited on my year abroad was, although I spent a term in Portugal and three months across Columbia, Argentina and Chile, nothing quite compares to Rio de Janeiro. There’s not one factor alone that contributes to the city’s incomparable charm, but an immersion in a way of life which is utterly contagious. My daytime routine changed from coffee in the covered market and work in the Bodleian to a morning swim in view of the Cristo Redentor, followed by work in the brightly coloured streets of Santa Marta and evenings spent surfing on Ipanema beach. Because that’s what’s most infectious about Rio: the seriousness which I find in most cities completely dissipates, somewhat helped by the fact that wearing only speedos and flipflops is a more than suitable dress code in some parts of the city! From anywhere in Rio, the striking jungle hills frame your perception of the high-rise beach apartments, the sprawling communities and you can’t help but pinch yourself and ask if it’s all real.
I remember particularly the ‘Dois Irmãos’ (Two Brothers) trail which takes you 1000ft above Ipanema beach with views of the entire city. The photo of me in this article has the backdrop of the community of Roxinha which you can also see during this trail. I did this trek quite early on in my stay in Rio and had some reservations about doing it; the trail required a moto-taxi ride from the foot of the Vidigal community through its winding streets to the base of the trail. Both the prospect of motorbike travel with a stranger and entering an unknown part of the city were very daunting. However, the motorbike ride turned out to be one of the most exciting parts of the trail. The driver should really consider himself for Moto GP because the way he was navigating the narrow lanes of Vidigal was nothing shy of incredible. My fear of riding the bikes was also somewhat extinguished when I saw a local casually sat at the back of another bike multitasking with an açai bowl and their smartphone, while I sat clinging to the driver for dear life. Although the adrenaline of the ride was fantastic, sitting at the top of Dois Irmãos, while a group of locals played guitar and sang, waiting for the sun to set on the Cidade Maravilhosa is a memory that will never leave me. It’s not just this picture of the city which remains in my mind, but a feeling, a feeling of a city which is alive like no other and leaves a part of itself in anybody who opens themself up to it.
