Staying in one place after moving in my journey almost everyday from place to place helped me to start a routine. A new routine that finally been polish after hours of hard thinking and some also long and endless discussion with Cariocas at my hostel.
Morning is most of the time short in time (cause of late wake up) and consit of trying to wake up slowly after a jag of coffee and some papaya and water melon fresh fruit. If my never ending wake up does not work after some coupe of hours, I try to motion my brainless stomach to the corner fruit juice and indulge myself with a glass of exotic fruit juice. Since I don´t understand any words of portuguese and I am too ashame of moving around in the city with a dictionary under by arm, I rather use my instinct and ear to order my morning fruit juice. I end up usually with a full glass of colourfull juice that I can´t even name in my own mother tongue. I chosse depending on my mood the longest name, most sexy of shorter, first or the one with the most vowell in it. Anyway they have more than 50 different juice, that keep me busy for some time.
The afternoon starts most of time with a self massage of suncream at the hostel and a towel searching over the pile of clothes from the 9+ person that inhabit my dorm room. The one block or 36 seconds walking distance that separate my hostel door to my beach spot is done by my newly bought brazilian flip-flop without any more direction or advice. My stincky towel lay out on the Ipanema beach or Copacabana Beach or Leblon Beach is now executed is less than 2.6 seconds and is roundly done in an elegant and effortless coordinated motion. This would be close to a Step back to ride the tiger motion of the Taichichuan 108 original forms. White rose and candle are spread in most beaches and is the trace of a local thankfull ceremony. This is the only marks on the sand that I fully respect in my hunt for the best spot on the beach. Roasting from one side to the other is what keep me busy most of my afternoon time. At 4-ish the sun usually disapear behind some clouds or some buildings depending the day and is the signal to slowly move back to the Lemon Spirit hostel.
The evening is officially started by a most welcome hot shower that takes not only the salt away from my lips, but also the sand between my feet toes. The dinner is spend at one of the already mentionned corner shops that offer fruit juice and sandwiches. Standing with locals from every social class, I enjoyed usually my Maracuja (passion fruit) fruit juice with a Frango-Queijo (chicken-cheese) sandwich. Big Polis, Sarense, or Bibi are my favourites spots so far. The late evening is explored in Gringo group to a different bar almost everyday but is wetted by Caipirinhas followes by Skol beer almost everytime.
Life is hard under the sun or Rio, and I trying my best to be able to adjust myself by the end of this week before I leave for new adventures.
Fact of the week
Copacabana beach is not anymore my dream beach of alll time.
Last friday, the 14th of July, I was laying on my towel reading a bad book, when the shadow of the back building told me that it was time to go back to the hostel. I was surprise to found out that my short was missing, with some $25 and my .............. prescription glasses. I walk back the 6 km blindless and was mad at myself of letting my glasses in my pocket of my short knowing that things are usually taken away from their gringo owners on beaches. In the end, this will be probably the most expensive short I will have in my life and this stupid unattention will cost me an extra $300 in my budegt. The good news is I will have a new pair of glasses from .... Brazil, but only tuesday. In the meantime I am leaving on contact lens. Oh well this my adventure of the week, time to go back to the beach :)
I am now officlally at 3 towels out of 10
(*) Rio de Janeiro translated in Spanish