Carnaval

As expected, Carnaval was absurd. The sheer amount of people partying, beers consumed, feathers adorned and fun had was staggering. I don’t know the exact statistics, but I feel that ‘rather a lot’ is an accurate estimation with regard to all of the above. Such is the number of people and blocos (street parties) that everyone’s Carnaval experience is different. Here is a rough guide to mine.

Day One

Location: Santa Teresa

Costume: Colourful clothing and guitar-shaped sunglasses with a Brazilian colour scheme.

Life Lesson: Don’t wear your favourite clothes. They will get wet.

This was an early morning start. People were hammered by 8 30, as vast crowds packed the narrow streets in Santa Teresa. The costumes were remarkable. There were some timeless classics: Mario & Luigi, Jesus, cross-dressers; some more original ideas: The Sims, a Tinder ‘Match’ (for those unfamiliar with ‘Tinder’ http://www.marieclaire.co.uk/blogs/543941/tinder-the-online-dating-app-that-everyone-s-talking-about.html); and the genuinely inexplicable: a man with a 6 foot long wooden club and these fine chaps.

Full marks to miss Silicon Valley on the left. 

Needless to say, I felt phenomenally underdressed and made a concerted effort to change this for the following days. Santa Teresa’s streets were so busy that it was impossible to leave, meaning that a 3-hour samba session in blistering heat was the only option. I can’t say I complained too much, especially as onlookers sprayed water from hoses in their front garden to keep us poor carnaval-goers cool.

Day Two

Location: Lapa

Costume: Bog standard t-shirt and shorts (nightwear).

Life Lesson: Flip flops are not a good idea.

After a day spent in the office covering the League Cup Final and Madrid Derby among others, I needed to let off some steam in the evening. The services of Lapa were required: cheap caipirinhas from street sellers and wandering around the busy streets, again to the tune of the ever-present samba drumming. The two downsides were the smell, which was fairly repulsive, and a muddy residue that had gathered on the ground, causing my feet to squelch uncomfortably.

Day Three

Location: Gloria

Costume: Red vest, silver wings, feather headdress, ample amounts of sun cream.

Life Lesson: Wearing large wings makes walking through crowds an immense struggle.

Wings and feathers are a perfect combination.

The “Bloco de Sargento Pimenta” (Sargeant Pepper), was, as you may have guessed, Beatles themed. I’m told that 100,000 people were in attendance and it was pretty spectacular. Live samba covers of Beatles tunes and an infectious atmosphere were the orders of the day. Yellow Submarine was particularly enjoyable, as was spending the day dancing and drinking under a hot sun.

Day Four

Location: Ipanema

Costume: Brazil dress, green wig.

Life Lesson: Go to the toilet when you can, even if you don’t need to.

This was my favourite day. After some free caipirinhas and a barbecue at the hostel of the inimitable Harry van Manen, a group of us headed to Ipanema to join in the festivities. With the sun still out, we headed to the beach and I watched the sunset in the water, along with some smashing people. It was an unforgettable moment. Many complimented my attire as I struttes my stuff during the parade. Happily, we found ourselves right in the thick of the action as people danced their way down the streets.

I think I make quite a good girl...

Days Five-Seven

Location: Various

Costume: Various

Life Lesson: There is always something going on.

Carnaval technically finished on Wednesday, but has reignited for the weekend. I had three days of ‘rest’, during which time I had a lovely dinner in Lagoa (amazing views) under the watchful eye of Christ the Redeemer, beers on Copacabana beach and another night out in Lapa. You could say I was easing myself out of it all…

Day Eight

Location: Leme

Costume: Buzz Lightyear Mask

Life Lesson: Carnaval doesn’t stop for rain.

I got absolutely drenched. You would have thought that I had been for a dip in the nearby sea, given the state of my clothes. Early on, I gave up on trying to avoid the rain and embraced the whole situation. It seems the Brazilians will party whatever the weather.

Day Nine

Location: Ipanema

Costume: Undecided

Life Lesson: Only time will tell.

Today is the last day. I know not what is in store, but the one thing I can be sure of is that it will be a good laugh. The Brazilians know what they’re doing…

The boys. 

Job's Your Uncle

Since my arrival in Brazil, I have been trying to get various things done. After finding an apartment, buying a Brazilian phone and making several (necessary) trips to the beach, I thought I had better try and find a job. This is certainly easier said than done. I had been emailing, tweeting and irritating Brazilian companies for over a year before my arrival, with very little success. The rare replies would be ones explaining that they have no need for an unqualified English person who doesn’t speak Portuguese that well. Fair enough.

However, after persistent emails to one unfortunate man, I have now landed myself a job (I believe). Following on from a successful interview, I spent most of the weekend in the office. The job is rather perfect. It is with a sports newspaper, which reports almost entirely on football, seeing as that’s the only sport the public are interested in. There is a saying here: "Volleyball is the most popular sport in Brazil. Football is a religion." ‘Working’ is not so bad when you’re surrounded by televisions showing every game you can imagine and your job is to write down what is happening, especially as my first assignment was to give a report on Stoke’s marvellous victory over Arsenal. But the best part about the job? It’s all in Portuguese: the writing, the interviews, the office banter. So it ticks all the boxes: prevents boredom on my part, satisfies my University’s demands, whilst not impinging too heavily on my carioca lifestyle. Cracking.

Carnaval parade outside my window.

The one problem is that the Carnaval festivities have kicked off. I won’t be working this week, but did find myself in a couple of awkward situations over the weekend. I was casually getting the metro home, only to find the station absolutely rammed with people, all in fancy dress. Tarzans and Playboy bunnies surged past me, all scantily clad and in exceptionally high spirits. I felt rather out of place in a shirt and chinos, but joined the throngs heading for the exit. Above ground, I realised that there was a rather large street party going on and a parade that would end up going right past my flat. The pushing and shoving wasn’t over for me, so I threw caution to the winds, took my shirt of too and got stuck in. I wasn’t going to be left out.

The street parties are rather mental. During Carnaval, they kick off as early as 8am, meaning that you could quite easily dance, drink and divulge in whatever you fancy from dawn until dusk, as well as during the night when the mayhem continues. Thousands of people converge in fancy dress and just have a good time. It is a fantastic idea and one that I am looking forward to immensely, if also slightly apprehensively. My main concern is not the lack of sleep or the large consumption of alcohol; it is, as you should probably have guessed, that enormous, burning ball of gas that preys on fair maidens like me. No matter what anyone says, it is impossible to apply sun cream during a Rio Carnaval parade without the use of magic.

'More love please' - Santa Teresa

Before the Carnaval atmosphere became too intoxicating, however, I did embark on another touristic adventure. The highlight of Rio de Janeiro’s week has undoubtedly been the arrival of Surrey’s very own, Harry van Manen. Most of you will not have had the pleasure of meeting the man so I shall try to explain him. His phenomenal exuberance is such that a Brazilian man, dressed entirely in the feathers of several exotic birds and dancing samba that you can only dream of, would not succeed in stealing the limelight. Rio and Harry are a perfect match.

Anyway, we had a lovely walk through the arty, fashionable district of Santa Teresa. As you can imagine, I felt right at home… We chose to go at midday, which probably wasn’t the best idea as Santa Teresa is up a painfully steep hill. Having sought refreshments, however, we could sit back and take in the stunning views. I suppose that’s the benefit of building a city in between a load of hills and mountains: there are great to views to be had all over the place.  

Me with a view

But for now, Carnaval awaits. There is chanting outside my window, to which I must attend. Hopefully I will survive.