screwed-up sunday stroll in ria de janeiro > maybe

well hello there it’s me again somehow in ria de janeiro and i swear half my brain forgot how to google directions but here i am. the apartment look is getting that damp mildew smell and the aircon fan is hissing like a deflated balloon. i just checked and it’s like a sauna outside hope you like quietly sweating through linen shirts. neighbors? if you’re too bored to vibe here sao paulo’s just a taxi ride away but honestly the sound of concrete and distant construction music is weirdly better than a bossa nova hammock.

so let’s talk about the weather which is basically 28 degrees and humid as a sweaty sock drawer. i’m holding a flip-flop now because my feet chose to rebel after that cobblestone street - at least the cracked ones are less painful now. someone told me that the old harbor bridge was closed suddenly but i’m not too worried it’s probably just a ‘sunny day’ thing. i’ve hitched a lift on a dusty bike to somewhere between the downtown and this murky lagoon thing because really what else is there?

\just don’t click the x on that map okay i’m gonna zone out now.

i hear that the local fish market is cursed and that a merman allegedly stole a vegetarian’s left flipper last week. don’t ask me why i believe that but i did see a guy in a banana costume selling juices to seagulls and i’m taking that as a solid omen. also i’m pretty sure the ocean has better vibes than this internet cafe where i’m currently trying to post this and the router is screaming like a banshee.

i just saw a tagboard on the wall that said ‘free yoga in the park tomorrow’ and i’m half serious about it. the last time i did yoga in public i accidentally joined a conga line instead but hey glucosamine and flamingos are a package deal now. speaking of snacks this place has that insane street taco stand that sells ?a’b?a?s?a?s like they’re illegal contraband but locals are dying for them. i’m sitting outside now with a napalm-hot taco and a co-worker who thinks he’s a food critic but only rates things on a star scale made of chewing gum.

bored already? i’m not. i’m staring at a brick wall that’s probably older than my grandma and it’s giving me existential poetry. also i’m on unsplash live searching for ‘brown wooden handles on tables’ because i want to photograph that hand that’s been missing from my bag since chile. the first image that loaded was an owl on a tree branch and now i’m questioning all my life choices.

here’s the stuff you can’t find: i googled ‘rio travel’ and found a yelp page for this place that claims it’s got the best calabash smoothies in the world but i’m not convinced. i also found a tripadvisor link to a hostel that’s literally a converted warehouse and someone wrote ‘the owner feeds the cats expensive steak’ which is either genius or a cry for help.

so if you’re here do this: go to the beach at 3am when no one’s there and throw rocks at the waves. the rocks will thank you. also don’t trust anyone who talks about ‘hidden gems’ in rio because that’s just city code for ‘i’ll steak you if you don’t pay’. here’s a nonprofit dockside thing that’s probably better than instagram’s filters: scholarships for fishers.

p.s. the ol’s at the supermarket keep yelling at me in portuguese and i’m not even sure if they’re yelling or chanting. probably the latter. also i’moling the street artist in the alley to give me a sketch but he’s charging in artichoke heads.

p.p.s. i’m gonna leave this open tab on my laptop now to critique my life choices tomorrow. hope it’s not disastrous.

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