rijo’s heat never leaves you alone & why i’m still here
when you land here, the first thing you notice isn’t the postcard beaches or the clatter of trams but this weird, humid energy that clings to your skin like a bad decision. right now, i checked-it’s 23.34°c, feels like a sauna with a margarita chaser. sweaty and slightly ridiculous, but hey, that’s the charm, right? at least the wifi at that tiny café in santa teresa actually works. which is more than i can say for my last place in lisbon.
if you get restless, búzios and itaguaí are just a scroll through google maps away. but honestly? i’m too busy trying to edit photos in lightroom while the power flickers. no power, no wifi? how does that even happen here? i heard something about a "reliable" spot in centro that’s anything but. don’t ask me how i found out. (a certain overly enthusiastic barista told me.)
the locals here are... something. one old guy at the belem market told me i’d regret eating that fish if it wasn’t for the garnish. he’s probably right. another guy at the beachfront hotel insisted he could fix my laptop with witchcraft. i’m not sure i believe him. but hey, the coffee? that’s spot-on. third time this week at this place called brew, and they still pull the same cheeky roast. (they’re also weirdly popular with surfers. go figure.)
"don’t touch the yellow flowers by the metro station. last guy who did got cursed by a cat. true story."
"this isn’t a city. it’s a mood. and right now? it’s feeling extra moody."
i’ve said goodbye to rijo three times this year. every time, i swear i’ll come back and actually explore the place. somehow, it keeps pulling me back. maybe it’s the way the samba schools turn the streets into live stages every night. or maybe it’s the fact that my budget is screaming, but my soul is dancing. (shoutout to that dream sequence in the film i’m scouting downtown-it’s chaotic, but fresh. just like this city.)
"als i heard someone say ‘rio is just beaches and bling.’ yeah, okay. but have you ridden a 500-year-old elevator that smells like old money and regret? neither have i. so maybe ask again later."
i’m not here to find the next bling. i’m here to find the next weird story, the next thing that makes me type faster than i should. the heat, the chaos, the wifi that works half the time-it’s all here. and maybe, just maybe, i’ll manage to snap a decent shot of the sunset without looking like a tourist who ain’t even trying. (wish me luck.)