Arrival in Rio (From Bournemouth Echo)

Arrival in Rio

1:05pm Wednesday 17th February 2010 in

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As we arrived at our hostel in Rio quite late a few of our new found room mates are sleeping.

All the effort of unpacking a few bits without turning on the light and making the beds in silence proves futile as the moment I turn my back from my bag it comes crashing to the floor making an almighty racket.

Fortunately there were minimal stirs as I announce my arrival in the smoothest of styles. They say you find yourself travelling... the first lesson I learn is that if you are over six feet tall, sleeping in the top of a three decker bunk bed is rubbish.

Being an addict of cracking my head at the best of times, sleeping so close to the ceiling quickly constitutes a problem.

To everybody´s surprise (bar that of my own) and the amusement of Tori I managed to repeatedly hit my head several times in the few moments after I wake from my slumber.

Sleep, sleep, sleep, wake - where the... CRACK! I moved to one of the lowest beds by the second night.

As it turns out, our hostel is in a great position to explore Rio. It is a fifteen minute saunter to Copacabana beach. The metro is two blocks down and taxis and buses are plentiful.

It takes a couple of days to acclimatise to the forty degree heat. So we lie on the beach and swim in the sea.

As we wade along the shore, we find it hard to believe that two days before we were sleeping on the floor of our bare flat with minus temperatures outside.

The beaches are full of beautiful bodies being paraded in the skimpiest of attire. We learn that Ipanema is trendier with more young people. It is slightly less touristy than the more famous Copacabana.

The third day we take the first of many crazed bus journeys. We head to Barra de Tijuca.

After half an hour of being lifted off our seats as the driver takes every bump at 90kph, we arrive in an affluent area of Rio. Here the beach is relatively deserted while the sea is clean and shallow with fun waves.

As I have lived in a sea side town all my life, I am no stranger to the dangers that over head birds pose. We have all been victims at one point - apparently it is lucky!?

As we strolled along Avenue Atlantica following an all you can eat pizza dinner, I felt the familiar thud on my foot. As I looked down, I had indeed become a victim.

I looked around but could see no offender. I shrugged my shoulders and headed to the sea. An elderly vendor appeared from no-where `Ew, s**t´ he astutely remarked.

He was all too keen to open up a bottle of water and clean it for me. I said no and pointed at the rather vast ocean. He was completely perplexed at my lack of freaking out.

It was then we reaslised I had not been a victim of a bird, but of a twisted way to extort some reais from me for a bottle of water. Either that or maybe I just ate too much at the buffet.

We are in the city for three weeks. There is plenty of time for sight seeing and a football match or two. It seems that it is the carnival that takes centre stage as the whole city is already gearing up for the celebrations.