Somente Mim

The number one thing to do when you get to Rio is look out the window of your airplane. The first time I went, I was totally unprepared for the way the azure ocean met the white curve of the beaches, and how the lush mountains rose almost immediately up behind that. Certainly the beaches I know best (the Jersey Shore and Long Island) were a far cry from this, but even the shores of Italy and Greece did not leave me with such a sense of primal and natural beauty. Once you've gotten that out of the way, it would probably be a good idea to stroll along the beaches of Ipanema and Copacabana, visit a samba show, eat rodizio, visit the Sugarloaf and Corcovado, and shop at the Hippie Market (to start).

Quick Tips:

Be super-city smart. Rio is dangerous, with parts of the city being unimaginably poor and violent. Don't wear flashy jewelery, don't open your wallet in public spaces, and keep travel documents locked in your hotel safe. Buy film and disposable cameras in drug stores or grocery stores off the beaten path; I bought a disposable camera at the gate to Corcovado and paid about five times the legitimate rate.

Best Way To Get Around:

Taxis have meters, which is nice, but any taxi driver can run up the meter. Be alert at all times. Tips are not necessary and not expected. If you are staying in a hotel, they can get you a hired car but it will cost twice as much (at least). The subway I've been told is fine but it is only good in the downtown area, and not useful if you are staying at the beaches.

I arrived in Rio just days after Carnival ended (according to the Catholics), but it seemed no one told the cariocas that. I walked into a lobby full of tan revelers strutting about with cocktails in their hands and wearing bathing suits and flipflops. Note it was around 11am.

I found the accomodations near-perfect. Every room has a view of the ocean and a balcony that had its own table and chairs. This view is enjoyable during the day, and at night the neighboring favela lights up so festively that it's easy to forget the difficult lives the residents lead. My room was very comfortable (it seems like everything was new), with plenty of room (in typical Inter-Continental style) for all my toiletries on the bathroom vanity. As a business traveler, I appreciated the responsive laundry and room service, as well as the lively lobby bar. It was always full in the evenings, and thus my first night there I became fast friends with a group of Italian men (led by Paolo and his friend Paolo) who were not only astonished I was in Rio for business, but also insisted I arrive to every meeting hung over. Also, this is the only resort in Rio, which means it has its own beach and a fabulous grouping of pools, sundecks and outdoor bars where I lounged during my off hours.

Some drawbacks are that it is pricey and far from downtown and the beaches of Ipanema and Copacabana. (There is a free shuttle that will take you all the way down to Copacabana and various spots in between.) The concierge service was spotty, and they would not help me get to Corcovado using public transport but insisted I sign up for one of their tours (I didn't).

Apart from these, if you are traveling without a budget in mind, and are more interested in relaxing rather than tourism, I recommend this Inter-Continental.

The Rio Othon Palace is the kind of palace that belongs to the black-sheep duke who gets no tithe from his peasants to keep the place up! At the time I was there, the whole thing was shabby, from the lobby (stained and threadbare couches and rugs) to the hallways (carpet so worn down it could have been linoleum) and a room so dated I felt like I was in an original episode of the Charlie's Angels. I suppose I would have put up with this if I felt I was getting a deal, but I really overpaid. While the concierges were very kind and helpful, they still tried to sell me packaged tours. Also, they refused to hail me a taxi, but insisted that I always take their car service everywhere, which was totally overpriced.

However, my room did have a gorgeous view of Copacabana beach, and it was five minutes total from room to shore (which made it easy to lie on the beach even when I had only an hour between appointments). I did seem to notice too that they were renovating the place floor by floor. There was a rooftop pool next to the restaurant (which served a decent mozarella, tomato and basil sandwich).

To sum up: there are many other places to stay in Rio that are on the beaches that are a better value or just better-kept.

Talk about a hot spot! We got there at 8:30 and had a hard time getting a table (granted we were eight people). But, eventually the wait staff accomodated us with a long table outside on the sidewalk, which was perfect. The room inside was crowded and noisy, although perhaps perfect for the twentysomething-plus crowd that was busy scanning the other tables for people to meet, or people they knew. The restaurant never settled down the whole two hours we were there.

More than Italian food (although they did serve pasta), this was a straight up pizzeria. We drank beer, ordered a huge bowl of salad, and then the waiter brought out four crispy and fragrant pizzas. We made quick work of them. We sat there for a while over our espressi, and watched the crowd gathering in the street right next to us. It seems that on Friday nights that was the place to be for teenagers, it even looked like a band was going to start playing soon. We scrammed before that all started, as we feared we'd never get a taxi once the throngs set in.

When I saw the receipt for my part of dinner, I rubbed my eyes: it exchanged to $60 for five people (at 1.5 reales to the dollar). Definitely worth it, especially if you feel like getting out of the tourist track of restaurants and neighborhoods.

Everyone told me I had to try the meat in Brazil, I had to have their barbeque. However, my first night in Rio and I was dining alone. Since this location of Barragrill sent a van to pick up guests from their hotel gratis, I decided to go there and keep it simple. The restaurant was large, with tables and boothes arrayed around the central feature of the main buffet.

Without any prior explanation of churrasco, I found myself muddling through dinner once again. The prix fisse meal included the salad and dessert buffet as well as all you could eat of the roving barbeque. The salad bar was fine -- fresh greens and cooked veggies -- but I was there for the main event.

Waiters walk around with huge skewers of meat and if you want what they have you motion them over, then as they slice it off you are supposed to grab it with your tongs. This took me a few go-arounds to figure out (the maitre'd had to come over and demonstrate). Then, I realized on my own that the choices cuts of meat are closer to the skewer (no one really wants the tough and salty outer part). Some of my favorite types were alcatra (sirloin), carneiro (lamb), frango (chicken), and coracao (chicken heart). I'm not a big meat eater on a good day, but it was impressive to watch the locals. They knew all the cuts by sight, and could tell you exactly where the piece of meat would be found on an animal's body. I didn't care it it was from the butt or the shoulder, it was all delicious!

The waitstaff was very kind to me, and kept coming over to try and talk to me even though we had very little words in common. Personally I enjoyed watching the dining families and couples, most of whom seemed middle class. There were other tourists there, but mostly the crowd was locals. All in all, Barragrill is a fine and comfortable introduction to the world of churrasco!

By far, this was the best meal I had both times I have been in Rio (and I had customers take me to the best barbeque places in town). The food is Italian, and the proprietors are Italian. I also went with a group of Italians (those nine Italian men I met at the hotel bar) who were treated like paesani of the owner.

Our meal was fabulous. We had at least seven courses, most of which were seafood. After anitpasti of typical cold meats, steaming and savory plates of shrimp, white fish, and linguine al pescatore were passed around family style. There were baby lamb chops, pasta al pesto, you name it, and it all was delicious. Bottles of wine were quickly drained and replaced, until for dessert we decided we needed a digestivo of limocello. It felt like I had been invited to dinner with old friends. Part of that was the company and the "in" they had with the owner, but I think the rest of it had to do with the congenial service and the terrific atmosphere of the restaurant.

Decorated in white and yellow, the restaurant was in the corner of a building, with the seats by the window being lower than the seats in back, so all diners had a view of the streets. This design seems common in Rio, and creates a very comfy ambiance as you can see most of the other diners and folks walking by the place. Also, we lingered over our meal for at least three hours, with no pressure to leave.

For three people, the bill came to $115 (based on an exchange rate at the time of 1.5 reales to the dollar). However, we also ate a lot of food. Ordering less food and maybe wine by the glass, you could easily keep it at $20 a person and still eat like un re e la sua regina.

If you are thinking about dining here, I suggest dinner, not lunch. I walked by once at lunch time and the place was empty. But, even so, without exception, I highly recommend il MIO restaurante.

I wandered up from the Hippie Market one afternoon, ready for lunch, and found this local eatery right across from il MIO ristorante, of which I had fond memories from my last visit to Rio. I was looking for a lively place to eat lunch, nothing too fancy, and even though Rua Farme de Amoedo is chock-full of places to eat, this is the one that seemed the most inviting.

I was seated at a table along the front, and had an open view of the sidewalk and the interior of the restaurant. They had opened the front walls, so it was all open-air. The ambiance is clearly casual, with butcher-block-topped tables and light wooden chairs that make that great scraping noise when you pull them across the tiled floor. The waiter arrived quickly, and uncertain in the face of the vast menu, I hastily ordered a pressed ham and tomato sandwich with a salad, which was delivered in a plastic basket. Other possibilities on the menu include Brazilian versons of burgers & fries, pizzas, and other sandwiches. There was also a selection of standard entrees like a meat with vegetable. My sandwich was alright, but some dishes brought to other diners looked tastier.

Apart from the food (which seemed to me incidental as soon as I sat down), I truly enjoyed the atmosphere and the other patrons. It was a jumpin' joint, with soccer blaring on a few tvs, diners chatting away noisily and shouting hellos to people passing on the sidewalk, and waiters scurrying around. It seemed there were a lot of regulars, and I'd say half the folks came in shorts or tee shirts over bathing suits straight from the beach. I thought that was so cool, clearly wealthy people living in a prosperous part of an urban center, down at the local pub in their bathing suits! I wanted to pull up a chair to some of the tables, since the groups of friends and families seemed to be having so much fun just sipping their beers, ordering another round, and noshing on manioc fries. I am sure this would be an excellent place to come with a group of friends to while away an afternoon just ordering chopp (draft beer) after chopp.

The day I visited the fair was the nicest day I spent in Rio by myself. Woke up, went for a jog, rehydrated, spent an hour reading and snoozing on Copacabana Beach, then grabbed my gear and set off on foot from Copacabana to Ipanema. I headed straight for the Hippie Market, which all my customers had told me was worth a visit. I had some souveniers to buy, and wanted to watch the locals in action.

Right off the bat, I assumed Brazilians must have a different definition of hippie because there were very few items for sale that signified "hippie" to me. But why quibble over semantics, as I had an enjoyable hour or so strolling up and down the aisles peeping into stands arrayed with leather bags and belts, flip flops, canvas bags, Rio tourist tee shirts (some were of surprisingly good quality), jewelery, wind chimes made of slices from brightly-colored petrified rocks, and a few true handcrafts made by artisans. There was also a surprising amount of "product" like socks and no-frills nail polish, and only one snack stand (I didn't dare). And, of course, the requisite pipes and other goth-type paraphanalia.

After twice-around, I settled on a pink petrified rock wind chime and a set of four handmade finger puppets of circus animals. Then, happy with my purchases, I went off to walk the leafy avenues of Ipanema and explore the supermarkets of Rio (there are few ways to get a better inside glimpse into life as a resident. In case you're curious, some go shopping in bathing suits).

Copacabana. The Grande Dame of beaches. A shimmering, glamourous idea of a beach. It spreads out, white and welcoming, for all of the world. It's a mutable beach, many things to many people. By now, it's not quite as luxe as Ipanema (and the song by Barry Manilow certainly cannot beat the one by Getz & Gilberto), and not quite as trendy as Barra da Tijuca, but they can't compete with Copa's hotels -- there's even a Palace on its bit of coast.

The first time I visited Copacabana was in the evening, as the sun was starting to set. The beach was mellow as I walked along the promenade towards Ipanema, with families starting to pack up their blankets for the day, and couples settling the bill at the snack stands. Soccer games were still going strong though, in roped-off fields far back from where the waves crashed. Sand scupltors stood vigil next to their depictions, lest a stray ball or child caused a crumble.

Halfway home I decided to stop for some coconut water, and was delighted to be sipping the cool cool beverage through the tall skinny straw and straight out of the green pod. Looking around, I wanted to call all my friends and tell them where I was ('Can you believe it??'), sitting under an umbrella on Copacabana Beach.

On my next visit to Rio I found myself under a similar umbrella with the same beverage, this time to cool myself instead of relieve my feet. I'd just finished soaking up the sun for a couple of hours. While at first I was nervous about laying on the beach by myself (how would I go in the water with no one to watch my stuff? what if some thief ran by and grabbed my bag while I was reading?), in the end I encountered no problems. I laid my towel between two families (tan men in their fifties wearing white linen shirts and sunglasses; their wives in bikinis and high-heeled flip flops), and read for a while until I couldn't take the heat any longer. A quick dip made me realize the pull of the tide was much stronger than I was used to at my beaches at home on Long Island, NY. I stayed until the families abandoned their lounges to go have lunch (I imagined them eating in their fancy apartments, like the one described in the book Brazil by John Updike). Back in my hotel room, I looked wistfully down on the earnest reaching of the surf, and the dignified curve of the promenade, both trying to get closer to Copacabana Beach.

I dubbed this jog the Barry Manilow Path, because every time I ran it, I could not stop humming to myself his song "Copacabana." ("Her name was Lola...") I was so thrilled to be in Rio, to be treading along those beaches which to me are the stuff of Hollywood mythmaking, that it wasn't until I reached the end of Leme beach that I realized I had a long way back to my hotel. It was unreal to be jogging those bike paths (or, on Sunday, up and down Avenida Atlantica as they close one lane off for pedestrians), watching whole families lug their beach gear across the sand, see couples from everywhere holding hands and looking hung over, and running side by side with some Brazilians I swore had to be pro futbol players. During those jogs I developed a real admiration for the cariocas, as they seem to all coexist on the beaches, and they let it all hang out (and over).

The convex route is deceptive: you see your point of origin from an as-the-crow-flies point of view, but in fact you have to jog in a semi-circle to get back home. Be sure you are up for a five mile run when you set out, otherwise you'll end up walking home like I did the first day.

Although you will see Brazilians jogging at all times of the day and night along this famous black and white paved promenade, if you are not used to the eqatorial heat and sun I suggest you run early in the morning or just before dusk.

Hands down, these jogs were the best way I had to interact with folks who live in Rio, and to really take part in a local activity. Hey, you don't have to speak Portuguese to know a thumbs up means you're looking good in your stride!

Corcovado, and its sculpted Jesus, is perhaps the most recognizable image of Rio de Janiero. For this reason, I hesitated to go both times I was in Rio, wanting to do something a little more off the beaten path. However, the second time I was in Rio the Sugarloaf was closed because they were repairing the tram, so Corcovado it was.

I went alone, and this was no problem. I took a cab to the base of the mountain, and then took the train up. The train is the second-steepest train in the world, and I recommend it over the drive (it's also cheaper as parking is expensive up there). It runs through Tijuca National Park. It's the largest urban forest in the world (hence the striking green hills rising up from the beach that I saw from the plane).

The crowd at Corcovado was mostly families and tourists; there were a few youth groups on pilgrimage, too. I found the vendors selling souveniers to be unsavory.

All that aside, the view is a splendor (not as inspiring as when you see the coast from an airplace, but still worth the trip). You can see all the way up past Ipanema to Barra da Tijuca, and all the way out through Guanabara Bay. On a clear day, it is dazzling! I could have leaned against the wall for hours watching the noiseless traffic, the tissue-paper waves, and the purposeful migration of the clouds.

The Jesus (a.k.a. Christ the Redeemer), on the other hand, really creeped me out. It seemed such a heavy-handed symbol, and his features are rough-hewn when seen from up close. From the back, you can say a prayer in a small shrine cut into the pedestal. If you are religious, this would be an important pilgrimage site, though.

You can get the train at: Rua Cosme Velho 513, Cosme Velho, Rio de Janeiro. The tel is 2558 1329, and check this website for more info.

Determined not to miss out on samba dancing while in Rio, I booked this samba show through my hotel. It was convenient: a bus came and picked us up and dropped us off at the hotel. Before the show a few costumed dancers were posing for photos with us.

The Plataforma show depicts the 500-year history of Brazil's dancing culture, including Bahia mysticism, music's evolution under the Portuguese Royal Court, and finally a breakdown of the Carnival festivities and samba school competitions. (Be sure to grab the brochure which explains all this before you go in to the show.)

Certain aspects of this show made me want to giggle. I think it's because they tried too hard to depict history, rather than providing simply a dancing revue, which would have felt more natural. For example, in the beginning they had the male dancers skulking through the forest in loincloths and spears. These were also the moments when the dancing was less inspiring and the music sounded forced.

That said, the rest of the music was exciting and lively: a live orchestra accompanying the dancers, as well as drummers on stage. Some of the drumming was so primal I imagined the rhythms of the Amazon. The costumes were without exception colorful and extravagant. From the traditional barely-there samba outfits to the architectural and gaudily symbolic Carnival dresses, there was always plenty to look at onstage. The dancing was wonderful too, of course. Not just samba, the troupe demonstrated some traditional dances. My favorite act was the acrobatic act, when all the male dancers came out in just pajama-like pants and did all sorts of daring flips, jumps and whirls. They were beautiful men; tall, with amazing muscle-definition all over. I was glad I was up front for this! The samba finale was mainly the women out there with their teeny tiny outfits and their super-high heels stepping away. I was in awe of their physiques, all the dancers were in incredible shape. Equally amazing were their totally in-synch steps; it was a wall of quivering thighs when they lined up on stage. No need to mince words: the dances are erotic and this show plays that up.

At the end, you have a chance to get up on stage with the dancers. I was this close to going straight for one of the acrobats, but being alone made me timid.

They served drinks during the show, and there was an option at booking to have dinner at the Plataforma beforehand. I am glad I did not choose this option as it was expensive and would have been no fun eating alone.

If you are not into tourist spots or on a budget, this should be your last option to see live samba. If you are a traveler who enjoys organized tours and cabaret performances, then this is just the thing for you.

Located downtown on the lower level of an office building (you have to walk down a circular ramp), this is a booklover's haven. But not just any booklover -- you must have patience and curiosity in this bookstore. Da Vinci is a Brazilian institution; academics, politicians and intellectuals from all over the country come here to browse and buy (those who can't make it place special orders). Shelves reach 20 feet up the walls and spread through a series of interconnecting rooms. Serious books in many languabvges (English, Portuguese, Spanish, French, Italian, German, etc) are shelved according to category, not language, and cover most topics in the humanities. You could walk out with a book on astrophysics on one hand, an encyclopedia of African art in the other, and a Russian-English dictionary in your back pocket.

This is not the kind of bookstore where you come with your coffee to get a free read of the latest literary magazine. If you can't find what you want (and you probably will get sidetracked before you do in this store) the expert booksellers will put the book in your hand, or if they don't have it, they will order it for you.

Nova Livraria Leonardo da Vinci is celebrating 50 years of business this year (2002). In honor of this, they are organizing more than the usual amount of discussions and cultural forums, which usually occur off-site.

www.leonardodavinci.com.br
+55 221 533 2237