For a change of pace, the main activity today was inactivity, and the setting was in a beach chair at Copacabana. This was with 3 people from my hostel as we took turns waving off the endless supply of hawkers selling everything from prawn kebabs (a highly questionable choice after they'd been paraded up and down the 30 degree beach) to large wooden figurines (floaties?). The beach wasn't as crowded as expected, so there were only a few iconic bikini bodies and their budgie-smuggling couterparts.
I arrived in Rio de Janeiro a couple of days ago like a combat ready paratrooper trying to create mitigation strategies for 100 ugly scenarios. I knew it was paranoia-fuelled, partly due to the language barrier (the last airline and airport taxi only seemed to be accepting grammatically correct Portuguese), but better to err on the side of caution until I got my bearings. The sun was being snuffed and I was out of the taxi on the street of my unsigned hostel. The numbers indicated that I enter a gate to a very long laneway and it was at this point I was regretting not doing some prior Google streetmaps voyerism. A guy walked through and I followed a few steps behind. Ahead, 3 men spilt into the lane (code red!), walking towards. I was carrying all my gear on high alert and made the decision to be explosively uncooperative unless they presented a weapon. A hand reached out and stopped the person ahead and I took a sudden sidestep to get one of the 3 in front of the others. It was then I saw the look of suprise on the middle guy's face as he was about to greet a friend. Ease down Ripley. The hostel was uneventfully at the end of the lane (still with no sign).
I've got my twitch under control since then which allows me to enjoy this place. I don't plan on losing it completely though. A German couple I've been talking to were recently daylight mugged in Chile via knife threat and rock to the head.
That first night in Rio i discovered a downside to my literal last minute packing. I put some cash in my pocket and the rest of my gear in a locker then followed some directions to food (the urge to ninja shadow jump was holstered). It was when I returned that I was bestowed with a nugget of wisdom that - Having a lock and the key that fits isn't enough. The key needs to be able to actually open the lock. It wasn't a golden nugget.
Last night, Rock in Rio was headlined by the consistently great Metallica. The festival had a few differences to others I'm familiar with. Firstly, the sea of people was spastically massive. A huge flying fox spanned 4 cables over the crowd with an endless supply of targets for the flashing LED wrist bands that seem to have been given out in abundance. Weaving through the crowds were people selling water and beer (via keg backpacks), an excellent alternative to waiting in lines. Sepultura in Brazil is an experience to itself. They began with fireworks over the crowd. These were worksake-be-damned shrapnel-in-your-face fireworks followed by an atmospheric tribal drumming group. I was with with a few people I'd just met, including a guy and his first-metal-gig son, Vitor. We'd taken up a somewhat conservative position. Chaos AD led to a whirlwind of humans with the edge a few metres ahead. That was a storm worth flying into. I looked at the group for anyone on the same page. Vitor just needed someone to say the word, although all it took was a sideways head nod and minutes later we'd progressed much deeper towards the frontlines. Fun indeed.
Getting back to base via a disorganised post-event bus system took until 5am. I'm going to plan more beach rehab after my next and last "Hock in Hio" day/night on Sunday.
I arrived in Rio de Janeiro a couple of days ago like a combat ready paratrooper trying to create mitigation strategies for 100 ugly scenarios. I knew it was paranoia-fuelled, partly due to the language barrier (the last airline and airport taxi only seemed to be accepting grammatically correct Portuguese), but better to err on the side of caution until I got my bearings. The sun was being snuffed and I was out of the taxi on the street of my unsigned hostel. The numbers indicated that I enter a gate to a very long laneway and it was at this point I was regretting not doing some prior Google streetmaps voyerism. A guy walked through and I followed a few steps behind. Ahead, 3 men spilt into the lane (code red!), walking towards. I was carrying all my gear on high alert and made the decision to be explosively uncooperative unless they presented a weapon. A hand reached out and stopped the person ahead and I took a sudden sidestep to get one of the 3 in front of the others. It was then I saw the look of suprise on the middle guy's face as he was about to greet a friend. Ease down Ripley. The hostel was uneventfully at the end of the lane (still with no sign).
I've got my twitch under control since then which allows me to enjoy this place. I don't plan on losing it completely though. A German couple I've been talking to were recently daylight mugged in Chile via knife threat and rock to the head.
That first night in Rio i discovered a downside to my literal last minute packing. I put some cash in my pocket and the rest of my gear in a locker then followed some directions to food (the urge to ninja shadow jump was holstered). It was when I returned that I was bestowed with a nugget of wisdom that - Having a lock and the key that fits isn't enough. The key needs to be able to actually open the lock. It wasn't a golden nugget.
Last night, Rock in Rio was headlined by the consistently great Metallica. The festival had a few differences to others I'm familiar with. Firstly, the sea of people was spastically massive. A huge flying fox spanned 4 cables over the crowd with an endless supply of targets for the flashing LED wrist bands that seem to have been given out in abundance. Weaving through the crowds were people selling water and beer (via keg backpacks), an excellent alternative to waiting in lines. Sepultura in Brazil is an experience to itself. They began with fireworks over the crowd. These were worksake-be-damned shrapnel-in-your-face fireworks followed by an atmospheric tribal drumming group. I was with with a few people I'd just met, including a guy and his first-metal-gig son, Vitor. We'd taken up a somewhat conservative position. Chaos AD led to a whirlwind of humans with the edge a few metres ahead. That was a storm worth flying into. I looked at the group for anyone on the same page. Vitor just needed someone to say the word, although all it took was a sideways head nod and minutes later we'd progressed much deeper towards the frontlines. Fun indeed.
Getting back to base via a disorganised post-event bus system took until 5am. I'm going to plan more beach rehab after my next and last "Hock in Hio" day/night on Sunday.
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