Cue Barry

As soon as I knew our hotel in Rio was on Copacabana beach, there was only one song in my head.

Cue Barry Manilow.

Even though it's clearly not about this Copacabana at all but a nightclub with the same name, it is so deeply etched on my brain that the earworm persists.

So here we are, waking up to a fine Autumn day in Copacabana, Rio. We'd no real plans for the day beyond exploring the immediate vicinity of the hotel. We'd dismissed the idea of joining an organised tour, aware of how tired we get of being herded like cattle! Plus, this was not our first time in the city and we had already ticked off Christ the Redeemer et al. So, on this bright and sunny morning, off we set towards the beach.

Now, we are not beach people. We had no intention of spending the day sitting on the beach but since we're here, we thought we might do a little people watching. I mean, isn't this the home of the beautiful people? Well, not that we saw! Plenty of people, for sure. But today those of legend hadn't made it here yet.

I took this photo later in the day from the rooftop bar of our hotel, but it illustrates too that being “on the beach” can't be taken literally. In order to get to the beach, we had to negotiate a six lane highway! Step out of an hotel and first, cross the service road used for picking up and dropping off. There may well be an outdoor bar or restaurant in this space too, before reaching and area for on street parking on this side of the road. Next comes the pavement, then the six lanes of highway separated by a wide central reservation where, every quarter mile or so, can be found a petrol station. Having crossed both carriageways of traffic, there's a cycle track to cross before reaching the safety of the other pavement. Thank goodness for light controlled pedestrian crossings!

Once safely on what we'd call the Promenade, there's the glorious patterns in black and white stone, well maintained here though less so in the side streets off the beaten track. Between this pathway and the beach are a variety of kiosks - Quiosques - small cafe bars and restaurants of varying quality.

Now, whilst here, let me highlight that word kiosk particularly in relation to the Portuguese spelling!

As we walked, we noticed the “paths” leading down to the shoreline, most of which led to a small hut.

We decided to follow one down to the sea, soon discovering that they were long lengths of hosepipe, perforated at regular intervals to allow small jets of water to irrigate the area of sand, making walking easier and less….sandy. (walking along one of these pathways would definitely be a good source for the name of a band )

Closer inspection revealed them to be less hut-like and more simple shelters for the deck chair and parasol men and a variety of vendors plying their trade along the beach, selling everything from swimsuits to flip flops and pareos. Each has a clear identifier - some are numbered and others fly flags.

I had read that sections of the beach are popular with particular groups - youngsters tend to meet in one area, a rainbow flag flies in another and a section was clearly used for volleyball for example. The area we explored was mostly used by families, arriving with large cool boxes for a day at the beach.

Our original idea had been to walk right along the beach and maybe around the corner to the next one: Ipanema. But the heat was getting the better of us by now, so neither of us had to make an effort to persuade the other to turn around and make our way back.

We turned left along the way and followed the less picturesque route via a small supermarket where we wanted to buy a couple of bottles of water. Celeste had advised us not to drink the tap water yesterday, and in this heat, the tiny bottles left in our room were far from sufficient.

We are never short on adventure though and sure enough, when we reached the registers we found a crowd of people. Since we do self checkout every time at our home supermarkets, we decided we could do the same here - the fact that neither of us speaks Portuguese beyond obrigado made no difference! When the supervisor alerted us to something not quite right then, we had no idea…except she had noticed we'd scanned three bottles of water when we'd bought only two. All was sorted with many smiles, thank yous, sorrys and obrigados and a card was tapped in payment. This set off a different alert - oh heavens! - and the smiling lady returned to sort out these two hopeless customers making a great deal of trouble with such a minimal purchase! I think that she was glad to see us leave the store.

We spent the afternoon on the rooftop of our hotel, swimming, reading, checking the quality of mojitos and caipirinhas (we've had better but maybe the next one will be more to our liking?) and chatting. It's a hard life but somehow, we're coping 😀

Later, we had dinner in the hotel, opting for the restaurant a la carte menu rather than the buffet. Both my hero and I chose steak - well, we're in Brazil, aren't we? His filet mignon was served in a couple of tasty sauces and my picanha came with french fries, a little chimichurri-style salsa and a bowl of something mysterious. Rather strange in texture, it had a soft, dry feel and virtually no flavour at all. What was it? Neither of us could guess, for it was not like anything we'd had before.

Next time our waiter came over, I asked. It was farofa, is a type of meal made from toasted cassava. I was none the wiser really, for this was a completely new food to me, one that clearly comes in a variety of forms too, This was dry and though it appeared crunchy, it was soft and floury and I didn't think it added to the dish at all.

Later, I read the last paragraph of the Wiki page: Farofa is served alongside the main course and can either be sprinkled on by individual diners to their taste before eating, or eaten as an accompaniment in its own right, as rice is often consumed. Besides cassava, corn meal is also used for farofa making. Had I sprinkled it over the dish, I may have had a completely different experience, for it would have taken on some of the tasty juices on the plate.

Oh well, we live and learn, don't we? And the steak was delicious!