Nights Out And Caipirinhas

Rio de Janeiro is famed as being one of the world’s party capitals. This is no lie. Party-happy Brazilians occupy the city’s bars every night of the week, spilling out onto the streets. Meanwhile, millions of tourists come every year to wreak havoc in clubs, beaches and pretty much anywhere else they can find. It is a city that attracts people with its splendours: year-round sun, beaches and a phenomenal variety of fruit that almost rivals its cultural diversity. As a result, it is certainly a happening place and this translates to a lively nightlife scene.

The first thing to mention is the caipirinha, Brazil’s favourite cocktail, made from cachaça (a sugarcane based spirit), ice, lots of crushed lime and alarming amounts of sugar. My first few weeks here were spent revelling in the brilliance of this drink. Refreshingly zingy, the strength of the pure alcohol masked by a sweet, citrus layer, it is a drink that will bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses of the recipient. In other words, it will get you drunk quicker than you realise, such that you’ll have already bought your fourth one before it’s too late. However, about a month into this cachaça-fuelled existence, its supposed wonder had faded and the caipirinha became nothing more to me than a sticky, sickly addition to the hangover. From time to time, I still indulge.

a typical lapa street stall

Indeed, when consumed sparingly, the caipirinha is superb. On the beach it serves as an antidote to the heat and your dehydration, while on the streets of Lapa, Rio’s weekend haven of crowds and dangerously cheap beverages, it will give you enough confidence to try that samba move, or approach that stunning girl. Lapa is synonymous with partying. A large square under an imposing aqueduct becomes home to street stalls, selling caipirinhas of every flavour imaginable and some marvellous food. The local haunt is one stall that sells a litre of caipirinha for a mere 6 reais (about £1.50). Having overdosed on the original lime variant during carnaval, I have since moved onto several other flavours, settling on mango or strawberry as a favourite, only after a harrowing encounter with a passion fruit.

Aside from cheap drinks and sumptuous snacks, Lapa houses street performers, jazz bars and clubs, with music ranging from samba and Brazilian funk to the painful depths of remixed Pitbull. On the weekend these places will be heaving with punters and there’s rarely a dull moment, not least because of a peculiar approach to paying. In almost every drink-serving establishment, you will be given a card, which will list everything you have consumed. This card will be paper or electronic, depending, I suppose, upon the sophistication of the establishment. You may not leave until the debt has been paid. The electronic cards are particularly dangerous because there is no way of knowing how many drinks you have ordered until you hand it over to the cashier upon leaving; it is, undoubtedly, one of life’s tensest moments. I did once see a rather unfortunate, and let’s face it, simple girl, who found herself without enough money to pay for the countless drinks she had happily imbibed, believing everything to be free. Well, she might have said ‘countless’, but the card knew. It always knows.

lapa's arches by day

Despite the abundance of venues, finding the perfect place to while away the evening has proved to be somewhat challenging. I have found myself at a ‘gringo’ party far too often for my liking, where the people and music are very similar to what I might find at home. My pursuit of a more authentic Brazilian night has been to ask locals (who have been surprisingly unhelpful) and just wing it (which rarely produces successful results). Of course, I have been to my fair share of Brazilian-themed affairs, particularly during carnaval, but also on the odd night where you come up trumps and find yourself dancing to an unknown music style, surrounded by exuberant cariocas. The most spectacular night was arguably spent in Vidigal, a favela that overlooks Ipanema beach and the Lagoa. Ironically, the main demographic present was of a similarly ‘gringo’ persuasion. What a pity.

this happens in lapa 

But, of course, the sheer brilliance of Rio’s nightlife lies in its unpredictability. No evening is the same. Sometimes it doesn’t work out, but on the flip side, sometimes it can be incredible. And it embodies the Brazilian attitude of taking it easy and just seeing what happens. My initial incredulity at the inefficiency of many things here was not an opinion shared by many, and certainly by very few Brazilians. But gradually, I have become accustomed to the fact that although some things may seem ridiculous, it really has little bearing on my life. And let’s face it, if you can’t have a good time here, then where can you? 

The Russian Nightclub: Pros and Cons

The nightclub. A phenomenon in existence all over the world, largely based on the same premise: people of a certain age can dance, socialise and drink in a predetermined establishment. Of course, as with anything, cultural differences manifest themselves everywhere and the nightclub is no different. Below are my observations and thoughts on the Russian nightclub.

1. The Dancing

I must start with the dancing. For me, adequate dancing space is the most important aspect of a club. You need room for flailing limbs and pirouetting, or for whatever shape your body decides to adopt. In Russia, there is often too much space, but not for a lack of people; they just love having the space to move. The best example of this was in a club called Havana, in Krasnoyarsk, a huge warehouse of an establishment. One wall was lined with floor to ceiling mirrors, which led to one of the most bizarre things I have seen on a night out: people dancing with their reflection. They maintained intense eye-contact with themselves, throwing shape after ludicrous shape. In an effort to understand the these people, I have come up with a few potential reasons for practicing this hobby:

• This technique is a form of self-analysis, allowing you to fine-tune your best moves, perhaps for a competition or dance tournament.
• The reflection of your fellow dancers gives the impression that you have come here with friends, or that the club has double the amount of people.
• The mirror serves as an opportunity to satisfy your immense vanity.
• The concept of the mirror is relatively new to you and you are marvelling at the way the bloke opposite you copies your moves identically.

It is worth pointing out that most of these people have come alone. I’ve met several rather tragic people who go to clubs alone, in search of friends or perhaps a lover. But these clubbers clearly had no intention of socialising; they were at one with the music, intent only on furiously expressing themselves through the medium of dance. I of course gave it a go and felt utterly ridiculous, fully aware that this particular pastime requires a complete lack of self-consciousness. Fortunately, if we just focus on the dancing, the Russians really don’t hold back. It would seem that nothing is too. PRO.

Russians having a great time

2. The Music

Another vital aspect of the clubbing experience, but one that Russia hasn’t quite got right, is the music. Russian pop music seems to be pretty dire at the moment, exemplified by people being embarrassed to tell me the names of any current artists. In the clubs, fortunately, the majority of songs use the recognised dance music conventions of a four to the floor beat and strong bass. They even play popular, Western songs, just with a slight problem: everything is a remix. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love a good remix, but when someone takes Avici’s ‘Wake Me Up’ chorus away from me, I start to get a little irritated. Why play a bang average remix of such a fantastic song? Furthermore, there isn’t much variety. Yes, 5ive and Selena Gomes are unexpectedly popular out here, but until they start bringing in the likes of B*Witched and Hall & Oates, they won’t have my vote. CON.

3. The Cloakroom

This one is very simple. You don’t have to pay to check a coat, scarf, bag, or presumably anything into the cloakroom. Anywhere. I hope this is out of generosity, because when it gets cold you simply can’t leave the house with less than a couple of layers on and it is simply too dangerous to tempt people into going out in just a t-shirt, in an attempt to save a little money. Another marvellous feature of Siberia in general is that every bar, restaurant and home has an abundance of coat stands. Is there anything better than a good coat stand? PRO.

4. The Striptease

This is another one of those classic things that Russia has decided is normal, as some bizarre form of mid-clubbing entertainment. The music stops, the DJ says something inaudible and everyone turns their attention to the stage (yes, stage). A scantily clad woman will appear and begin to seductively remove her few remaining clothes. Normally, a little is left to the imagination, but in Krasnoyarsk’s aforementioned Havana Club, the ‘performer’ took all of her kit off. Everything. Spectators, primarily male, had gathered in front of the stage, clutching a beverage and watching absent-mindedly, as if this was merely a news broadcast. Even our beloved dancers at the mirrors had wrenched themselves away from themselves either to watch the spectacle, or to seek refreshment in their half-time interval. I found the whole thing quite unnecessary. I’m sure this woman was talented in her craft, but had I wanted to see it, I’m sure there are places I could go. At least warn us upon entry! The sign should read: “Half price drinks before 12, Moscow DJS and Svetlana’s genitals.” CON.

5. The Platform

The brilliance of the platform mustn’t be underestimated. It allows us amateurs to showcase our talent for the whole club to see. If you are lucky enough to find a platform with a pole, use it well. It may be a while before you find yourself in this situation again and you should never pass up such an opportunity. Clubs in Russia fully understand the importance of a good platform, such that you are often allowed to dance on the bar, in the unfortunate event of occupied platforms. But the platform is more than just a dancing tool. It is a vantage point, a break from the crowds, and even somewhere to socialise. People you meet on the platform can become lifelong friends; you will find that your views and ideals are similar, as well as sharing a love of looking like an absolute cock-womble in front of everyone… PRO.

 

Tomsk's finest club (apparently a restaurant as well, why not?)

6. The Competition

Similarly to the striptease, some clubs will incorporate a competition into the evening’s entertainment: a break from the music where a few lucky punters have the chance to win a bottle of vodka, usually by doing something ridiculous like climbing into a bin-bag or reeling off their best chat up line. This also seems unnecessary and occasionally degrading, although I may just be bitter as I haven’t yet competed, and not for a lack of trying. CON (subject to change if I compete, and win, in the not too distant future).

The Russian nightclub experience is many-layered and varies from place to place, but you are always guaranteed something absurd. You have been warned.