More than a Picture, and even a Camera

Rio De Janeiro - August 14th, 2008

Sun! Our last full day in Rio and the sun finally was finally ready to come out to play, and so were we.

Lazily, we made our way out to the beach at around nine. The famed Ipanema beach was convienently located only a block away from our hostel. Named the sexiest beach in the world and birthplace of both the dental-floss bikini and, more unfortunately, the thong-inspired speedo for men, Ipanema is a beach of and for beauty. The Cariocas reflect such an attitude; it is rare to find a single Brazilian overweight, out of shape or without a tan. In the southern hemisphere it was winter, but you could have never guessed it. From early in the morning all the way until sunset, the beach was crowded with locals and tourists. Whether they were para-surfing, juggling the football, or playing the Brazilian version of volleyball (a mixture of football and volleyball) Brazilians have some serious skills. Too lazy (and lacking in talent) to join in, our little group from the hostel settled down at the infamous Post 9, or Posto Nove, and proceeded to waste our day away.

Little did I know that tragedy was about to strike. I had brought my camera out mid-day to capture some of this sunny splendor on the beach. By around three in the afternoon I was getting pretty tired from doing nothing, so I drifted off into sleep. Waking up I found that my camera, which had been right next to me, had been lifted! L

Well, to drown our sorrows and as a celebration of our collective last day as a group, we decided to go out to House, a club in Leblon (the rich neighborhood next to Ipanema). Nothing too spectacular, a small two-story house with modern deco and deep blue lighting, the club's only extraordinary point was the security, which unnecessarily took pictures of all the guests as we arrived. Needless to say, we were determined and succeeded in having a good time, even though a mix of techno and house blared from the second floor speakers all night. That night, I was fortunate enough to have collected a variety of dance moves from around the globe, including my favorite big fish-little fish-cardboard box (Australian), which, despite the name, is actually pretty straightforward. Dance moves aside, we all decided to make this the Greatest Night Ever, and so it was.

So great, in fact, that it wore itself out into the morning. Nothing, we deemed, would be a better way to cap off our holiday than to witness sunrise over Ipanema. At 5am House closed, and so Tim, Roxane, Carmen (Roxane's friend) and I headed out to our favorite late-night spot, Big Nectar. There we took down some of the world's best ham and cheese sandwiches, which are apparently all the rage in Rio. Soon we found ourselves racing our way to the beach to catch the first glimpse of the sun. And indeed, we were nearly alone along the miles of soft white sand. Sitting down, it was easy to get lost in the calm stillness of the morning air and the easy, rhythmic rolling of the waves. The first hints of light beginning a new day relaxed us from the hectic night out. Luckily, instances like these, of both extreme exhaustion and temporary rest, of leaving new friends and going home to family, of the beginning of a day and the end of a journey… are moments that need no camera.