rjbs in Rio, part ⅱ
After a rocky start, I had two great days in Rio, leaving me about four days of vacation. This meant lots more walking around, a little more beach, a bunch more food (70% cassava, 20% pork, 10% other), more forró music, and not enough caipirinhas. If you didn’t read “rjbs in Rio, part ⅰ”, you should start there.
Saturday
Friday, I ended my day by watching the sunset, having a beer, and listening to two different bands on the way back to my apartment. How would I top that?
Fortunately, I had help. Breno and Barbara were back on the scene to show me around to cool things I would never have done on my own. I had a lazy morning of scrambed eggs and orange juice, and some amount of walking around the neighborhood. By this point, I’d decided that all the fearmongering around getting mugged in Rio was wildly overblown, but it did seem like I should pay attention to where I wandered, so I didn’t head too far in unknown directions. I did see a bunch more shops, including things that I probably should’ve tried eating, but didn’t. A little after ten, though, I headed to the farmer’s market at General Glicério street. I was interested in lots of the things, but stuck to the suggestions: a pastel (sort of like an empanada), a tapioca (like a taco or crêpe made with cassava), and caldo de cana (sugarcane juice). I posted a lot of photos in Flickr, but I’ll highlight this one, the tapioca:
It doesn’t look like much, but it was delicious. Breno and his daughter had one with nutella and banana — a classic pairing to stuff into anything. I had the more traditional cheese and coconut, which seemed weird but tasted great. I was also simultaneously pleased and weirded out by the shell. It was soft and chewy, and had a subtle flavor that I can’t describe. I would eat many more, with many different fillings.
We ran into a bunch of their friends and their friends’ kids, which made for a good farmer’s market experience. Who doesn’t like watching little kids play in a crowded but basically safe space? Eventually, though, we headed out toward Tacaca do Norte. I don’t know anything about this place other than it was billed as the place to get açai. Also, Brazil had already been billed as the place to get açai, so this was meant to be the best of the best. I had actually never had the stuff, although it’s definitely been sort of everywhere here. It just seemed like it would be some boring fruity health food.
There was some debate over whether I should get a huge order or a tiny order. We settled on tiny (I was so full already!), but what we got seemed pretty big to me! If you haven’t had an açai bowl (or maybe if you’ve only had whatever it is we serve in the US), I guess I’d say it’s a bit like frozen yogurt or mashed frozen bananas, like a cold, sweet, stiff pudding. It came with two little pots, one of tapioca beads and one of granola. I love putting granola into goo, so that was great. Even so, I couldn’t eat more than half of it. Even if I’d been very hungry, I’m not sure I could’ve. Meanwhile, people all around me were eating it by the liter.
After that, we split up. Breno and I continued on alone to CRAB, a museum of local and indigenous crafts. This was very cool, and had both traditional-style objects and contemporary reinterpretations. I’m pretty sure that a few of the things I saw were also in my grandmother’s house. Did she ever visit Brazil? I have no idea.
Rather than any photos of CRAB, though, here’s one of Central do Biscoito (Biscuit Central), a cookie store with a weirdly compelling mascot:
After that, I think there was some sort of general walking around, but it led us toward the Candelária Church, a beautiful (but slightly dilapidated) church. Across the street, there were June Festival celebrations, and that’s where we were headed. One of Breno’s friends was going to be part of the celebration, as a stilt walker. This event was good value. We watched a bunch of stilt walking, heard a bunch of music, saw some unexpected Capoeira, and even ran into Breno’s brother and family! We saw the thing that had been the Olympic torch when Rio hosted. Also, critically, we got caipirinhas.
We lingered a good long while, but eventually we were pretty beat (or maybe I was beat and Breno was polite) and we headed out. I think this was my first time riding the Rio Metrô, the subway. I picked up a subway pass as a souvenir. These are great souvenirs: they’re cheap, they don’t take up space, and they’re unambiguously associated with the place you went. This one was even better. It’s called a RioCard, which is an anagram of Ricardo.
The subway was clean, easy to ride, and felt safe. I rode it again alone a couple times, and have no complaints. Breno and I chatted the whole time, even as he overshot his stop by accident and accompanied me to mine on purpose. When I got back to my apartment, I took off my shoes, called home, and zoned out until it was time to sleep.
Also, here’s a picture of Breno’s niece wearing my hat.
Sunday
I have no recollection or photos of Sunday morning. I think that’s when I explored a street market near my apartment. It was pretty cool, and I bought a nice aloha shirt. The seller told me I should go a size smaller, and I didn’t listen, but I think she was right. Gloria suggests it should be easy to have shortened, so I might just do that! I also hit the grocery store (my local Zona Sul) and picked up some soap and shampoo, so I could get cleaner. I felt a little weird about buying so much for my three remaining days, but I felt better about not being gross.
I met Breno and his daughter near Biscuit Central, and we headed to the Metropolitan Cathedral of Saint Sebastian. Coming to Rio, I knew that this was one of my top priorities to see. The photos made it clear that I’d be happy with it. In person, it was even better. It was beautiful. It made great use of the light while still providing a somber space. It felt like it really fit into the place it was, and it was still clearly a cathedral. I have seen many cathedrals, and even the best are often just very well constructed versions of “yet another cathedral”. This wasn’t that. Also, as we approached I could still smell the frankinsence from the morning’s mass.
I want to learn more about the place, including what required aspects of cathedral design it fulfilled in unusual ways. That seems certain to be a thing. Seeing my photos, Mark Dominus said, “A solid refutation of the people who complain about Brutalism.”
The plan had been to take the old fashioned tram from the cathedral to the way-uphill Bohemian neighborhood of Santa Teresa, but the line for the tram was two and a half hours long, which didn’t seem worth it. We got an Uber. Up in Santa Teresa, we looked around shops and watched trams go by, which was a pretty decent substitute for actually riding the thing. Eventually, Barbara met us and we got lunch: feijoada.
Feijoada is (I am told) the national dish of Brazil. It originates in Portugal, but let’s get real: it’s meat, beans, and rice, so it’s something people eat everywhere. It was served with collard greens and tapioca flour, and it was great. Could I have eaten our three person order? Yes, probably, but it’s surely also good that I didn’t try to. (Also, it would’ve been rude.) There is no photographic evidence, but I think I had a caipirinha there. We went to Bar Simplesmente, which apparently is a great place to go for feijoada. It certainly seemed like it to me!
The other notable part of the meal was the fried hunks of cassava. At first I said, “Hey these potatoes are great!” Almost as soon as I said it, I realized it wasn’t potato, and Barbara said, “This is cassava.” I said, “This is just like the yuca fries they used to serve at the Cuban place we liked.” Barbara politely explained that cassava and yuca are the same thing, and my mind was totally blown. I feel like I really should’ve know this, but I didn’t. Then again, I don’t live in a place where every single meal contains cassava!
From there, we walked a bit more and got some coffee. I usually only drink mocha lattes, but these weren’t commonly on offer in Rio, so mostly I just had tea. Here, though, I got a cappucino, which was good! (I’ve had them before and not liked them.) We saw a small exhibit of a fashion designer’s work in a cool gallery space with a great view. Soon, though, we came to the Escadaria Selarón.
The Escadaria Selarón is a (pretty long!) outdoor staircase. If asked, I’d say they led from Santa Teresa “all the way down” to Lapa, but I’m not really sure. At the bottom, we could see the huge, defunct aqueduct that the tram rides across. The point isn’t the destination, though, it’s the stairs themselves. They’re covered in tiles, and the work was done over twenty years by Jorge Selarón, an artist who lived in the area.
The steps were pretty popular, with lots of other tourists there to see, but they weren’t crowded or annoying, and we took our time wandering down and looking at the tiles.
After the steps, Breno and I carried on alone, heading to Glória market and the nearby June Festival celebration. Breno was very keen on me trying a bunch of sweets, so he bought a bag and we sat around drinking beer and eating candy. This was better than it sounds. I think the best thing we had was pé de moleque. As far as I’m concerned this is just shiny peanut brittle (the best kind of peanut brittle), but is weirdly pitched as being a local thing for Brazil. The one we got here was actually soft, sort of like a Pay Day bar, but much nicer. My only photo of the sweets is pretty bad, so I won’t put it in here. Instead, here’s me with Glória station, which made me think of Gloria every time I saw it, of course.
We’d meant to take a bike ride after this, but instead we sat around talking until it was dark and we were beat. This was good! Breno and I (and Barbara, on other occasions) spent a lot of time talking about this and that. Often this was work, sometimes politics, and sometimes movie, TV, and books. Most notably, though, I got a lot of Brazilian history, which was all interesting and valuable as I explored the place. More than once, I saw a monument or building that I understood much better because of a bit of history I’d learned earlier in the week.
From Glória station, Breno went home and I went back to my apartment in Ipanema, where I called home and caught up, then stared at the wall for a while until it was time to sleep.
Every night, I was watching a little Resident Alien. It was good travel TV. Not too stressful, sort of funny, and easy to stop watching when vacation was over. If I couldn’t sleep, I’d watch one more episode. Sunday night, as I wrapped up one last episode, I got a message from my sister that my dad had gone to the hospital. (He’s fine now.) I waited up to get more information, and while doing that decided to floss my teeth again. Doing that, I managed to pop the crown off one of my molars, which led to another hour or so awake, searching the web for “dental adhesive brands Brazil”. Eventually, I just cleaned everything involved and jammed it back in my mouth. It stayed put until I got home, but it meant I avoided peanut brittle until I got back!
Monday, I was on my own, so it was no problem to sleep in, and so staying up too late thinking about my teeth was no problem. More on the last two days in another post.