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“Blame it on Rio” or “The bitch who tried to ruin paradise” or “Beautiful, the story of Rio”. Take your pick, but our trip to the center of the male universe could have been titled many things and all of them would have easily applied.
For many, the only vision they can recall of Rio is from the ever popular “Beautiful” video from Snoop Dogg and the Neptunes, for others it’s the late 70’s film “Blame it on Rio”, or for the porn renting of you out there, you know Rio by the “Boo Yaw” series of adult films pouring out of Brazil these days.
Well the N2F crew made it our mission to visit the land of mystery and white sands to get a first hand account of the truth and report back what we saw.
Prior to any trip to a foreign land, I wanted to see how safe it was going to be and what steps I would need to take, if any to ensure I would make it back home in one piece. Pouring over endless news clippings and advisories, I read how Rio was apparently the murder capital of the world and how a band to thugs stormed a police station, shot up the place, and cut off the head of the sitting judge. Another interesting one, I would call the beach “snatch and grab”, where hundreds or even thousands of people would start on one side of the beach and run the complete length of it snatching and grabbing anything and everything in sight. Kicking ass the entire time.
Hmmm..... That made me think twice about going. What to do, what to do? On one hand, I wanted to go Brazil my entire life and I was going to meet up with my Brazilian friend who was going to take us around, but at the same time who wants to get his head chopped off? Pondering that thought, my buddy came by and popped in the Snoop video and as we started chanting “Beautiful, I just want you to know, you’re my favorite girl.. Oh Oh Oh!”, My fingers started dialing.
Watch out Rio here we come.
Upon landing, you would be forgiven if all you can think about is the cheesy 70’s show Hawaii 5’O. Tropical, but totally lost in the 70’s. Everything lacked the modern feel we take for granted in the US. It’s like they tried the whole US thing once and said to hell with any upgrades. So you don’t quite feel like you’re in a third-world nation, but certainly not a first-world one either.
After meeting up with our Brazilian friend and his stone-cold evil wife, who flew in last minute from the US to keep her husband out of trouble, we headed for the heart of Rio.
Along the way and on both sides of the highway, all you can see is straight poverty, favelas (slums), and decay. Something straight out of the movie “City of God”. Miles and miles of shanty town built over the years from stolen building materials, stolen electricity, and just plain skillful ingenuity.
These favelas are run by the iron fist of the drug dealers who, with the aid of kite flying lookouts, rule with a tyranny that would make even Sadaam Hussein blush with envy. Merciless murders and a strong network of thugs keep even the paramilitary commando-style Rio police at the borders edge.
With that said, my first warning, stay the hell out of the favelas. The girls might try to tempt you up, you might think buying weed in a foreign land is way cool, but I’ve warned you, so take it as you will.
Moving further in, we get into the heart of Rio which surrounds the Guanabara Bay, a beautiful body of water filled with expensive boats, and is surrounded by well maintained parks and beautiful houses. A stark contrast to the scene we passed on the way in. The rich and the poor living a stones toss away from each other.
As we quickly dart through the old city streets, you start to see the city’s old colonial roots. Beautiful architecture in a bit of disrepair, but full of wonderful charm. Look up and what catches your eye? Christ the Redeemer in full and glorious splendor. Wow! That’s when I suddenly realize “Oh, shit! I’m really here”. A lifetime dream finally fulfilled.
Suddenly darkness. What the hell just happened? As I was basking in the moment, we had entered into one of the world’s most famous tunnels. The tunnel the divides old Rio with the world-famous, former-playground of the rich “Copacabana”. For those my age, you would be forgiven if you break into singing the Barry Manilow song of the same name “At the Copa, Copacabana, music and fashion is always the passion at the Co..Pa..blah blah blah blah” you know the words.
But out of the tunnel, what do I see? The run down 60’s staring at me! What the shit is this? The beautiful old colonial charm disappeared and became an extremely overcrowded array of high-rise apartment buildings. Ummmm.....Did I miss something here?
Turn, speed, stop, turn, speed, slam to a stop. Bang! After a kidney garring ride, we’re at our place in a cozy alleyway of sorts surrounded at all sides by tall confining buildings. Where is the beach, where are the thongs wearing girls, where the hell is Snoop D O to the double G?!??!? I’m pissed!
After getting settled in and stewing some more, we decided to go for a walk and tour the cityscape a bit. OK, I thought, but I work in NYC and Philadelphia and come from Chicago, so a city street is a city street to me, but I’m hungry as hell, so let’s roll.
As we ventured out, I snorted in as much air as I could, hoping to smell the sea as I do while near the Jersey shore. The smell that you can smell miles away from reaching Seaside or Atlantic city. Nothing. Was there a beach at all. Where is the stinky fish smell?
Walking more and more, I would see half dressed person after half dressed person and wonder where they were going. Block after block nothing. Then I took matters into my own hangs and made a single left turn and VIOLA! Apparently, my friend and guide needs to take a long class in how to be a tour guide. His silly ass was winding us down some side street like we somehow flew halfway around the world to see cracks in the ground when all along, just one block over was the most amazing sights ever. THE COPACABANA BEACH!
How to describe, oh how to describe? Starting from the left you are blind to miss the incredible “Sugar Loaf” mountain. How it got there, what its officially classified as, I’ll never really know and don’t actually care. Suffice to say it’s HUGE and beautiful and has a cable car ferrying passengers up and down to expose magnificent views of the Bay and the beaches.
In the middle, Atlantic Avenue. A bustling main drag (pun intended, explained later) just in front of the wonderful white sandy beaches. As you turn right you stare down a long stretch of beach capped of by a former fortress that guarded the bay. Just on the other side and not visible to the eye sit the upscale and modern Ipanema. The history of Copa and Ipanema are fascinating, but you will need to research that on your own. Hopefully you will.
But where are all the people. Well although it was the middle of June and it was still hot to us, this was the middle of their winter. NICE! No crowds, no thieves running around, but no Snoop Dogg Video either. I thought........
As night came on, I heard a LOUD and I mean LOUD as LOUD can get thunder of music erupt in the distance. Squinting my eyes carefully, you saw thousands of people dancing, lights flashing and these huge busses that can only be described as buss size speaker on wheels parading down the middle of Atlantic avenue.
It turned out to be a gay parade. Being a non-homophobe and down for a party at all costs, I just got excited and was like “Fuck it!” It may not be Carnival, but it’s a party and a huge one at that.
For a couple hours, huge bus after bus after bus with hundreds of men, women, and children danced and sang and had a generally great time. Unfortunately, I was with a few party poopers who figured it would better to sit in some crappy hole-in-the-wall and eat so we left. Damn!
OK, let’s cut to the chase and fast forward to the good stuff. Rio is beautiful yadda yadda yadda, has great music, beautiful beaches, rich history, and nice people, but what about the FUN.
Well fun is relative, but there is no mistaking that Rio is in fact the male center of the universe. Why you ask? Simple answer HELP Discoteque!
See I honestly went down to take in paradise. I goal not often believed by many, but that is the truth. What I found was little different. Smack down in the middle of the beach lies Help. During the day, it’s very unassuming and rather bland looking, like a cool spot out of the 70’s Disco era long past it’s prime. However, after an evening stroll, we quickly found that once darkness descends on the city, all the area’s finest and infamous converge on HELP and the fireworks truly begin.
For starters, think of the finest woman you have EVER seen in your life and multiply them by ten. Then think about the finest body you have ever seen, combined with the sexiest outfits ever sewn, blended with the hottest music and squeeze all this in one club with a male-female ration of 1:7 and now you start to get the picture.
Being married, you need to just leave at this point or you will either feel closer to your wife or want to go home and kill her dead. As a single man, you will immediately realize that all the rules of engagement as you know it immediately change. Wome act like women and are ready and able to treat you like a king. No games, no guessing, just purity as the male/female situation should be. Total balance.
As I said before. Married men need to run, not walk out as soon as possible. Call the wife. Apologize about all the crazy thoughts that immediately entered your brain, then just go to bed and hope to forget it when you wake up, otherwise you will be a tortured soul forever.
Enough said.
Moving back to the boring stuff. No trip would be complete without getting close to heaven or at least a very tall representation of it’s chief representative. I mean the Christ the Redeemer statue. After visiting HELP, I now know why it’s the first place you should go after a night out. To ask for forgiveness or continued strength to stay out of HELP.
It is an absolutely stunning view and one of the most rewarding periods of the trip and you really get a sense of the vast wonderful breath and width of Rio and it total splendor.
Now I would have to be totally remiss if I didn’t share at least a few comments on a few of the other wonders like Santa Theresa. High in the hills, accessible via trolly car and a strong sense of adventure. The former home of the great train robber from England.
The other center of night life Lapa. Home of some of the best live music including Samba and the blues. Just don’t get drunk or you might be forgiven if you confuse one of the MANY transsexual prostitutes as real women. They aren’t and don’t even try to sort them out. The are and will always be MEN with boobs. Good looking, I’ll admit, but dudes all the same.
I can go on and on from here, but I think you get the picture. Even without going in the crazy haze of Carnival, Rio, Brazil can be one of the most refreshing male bonding places on Earth, just leave your girl and your cash at home. Married guys, stay strong and stay out of HELP!
Obrigado Brazil.
-Alex
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