Everywhere has thinned out and is calmer: the people, traffic, streets and the beach. In fact the bacchanalian abandon with which the place gave itself to Carnival almost seems quite distant now.
Walking back from my favourite breakfast cafe, along Ipanema beach, I observed everything with an objectivity that perhaps I haven't had since I arrived - probably because I return to London tonight. And I felt terribly sad to be leaving.
I watched the joggers, the young couples with their kids, the destitute lying on their cardboard patch of ground, the beach volleyball, the vendors selling snacks on the sand, the man from the favela creating little palm tree tableaux from empty Coke cans, the musicians playing to the tourists at a cafe for a few Reis.
Few other places have afforded me such joy and wonder as this and for me it is undoubtedly one of the world's most exciting cities, and certainly one of my favourites.
Although I don't speak the language, don't really understand the way of life and recognise the dark underside of the place, in the few blocks between Lagoa, Leblon and Ipanema I have found a part of the world and people that, simply, I adore.
I was warned about Rio's powers of seduction and the tricks she has up her sleeve to do so: the warm, generous and life-loving people; the staggering topography, beaches and jungle pouring into the city wherever it can; the languid climate; the laid-back, flip-flop beachlife and super-charged nightlife; the music, everywhere, and the wonderful food.
The city (and country) has more than it's fair share of problems, but few places I've ever visited have so quickly and deeply won my affections. And with the exception of a few hours last weekend, I have enjoyed every second of my time here.
There is a word here, saudade, meaning indescribable longing. I already have a sense of that - to return here, but also a certainty that for any number of reasons I will be back again soon.
No comments:
Post a Comment