Cidade Maravilhosa

Last month I spent a couple of days in Rio de Janeiro. It was the first time I had been back there since the summer of 2003, when I lived there for three months.

One night I went back to my favorite place in Rio, a big rock called Arpoador (Harpooner) that juts out into the Atlantic Ocean, dividing the beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema. I used to go there as often as I could to watch the sunset, and I managed to get there just in time to see it again.

There were probably 200 people scattered around the big rock. Some were fishing, but most were there, like me, to watch the sun set over the Dois Irmaos, or Two Brothers, the massive rocks that loom over the southern end of Rio.
As I sat there waiting, the sound of voices and laughter floated down and mixed with the noise of the waves crashing against the rocks below us, before drifting into the evening sky. But as the sun got closer to the horizon, the voices grew hushed and the crowd was quiet and we all stared in silence as the fiery globe disappeared into the sea.

Then, just as the top of the sun dropped below the horizon line, the whole crowd erupted in approval, and the evening air was filled with applause and cheers in appreciation of the show.

I love Brazil.

(The top photo is taken from my hotel window. The hotel was under renovation, so the whole building was wrapped in a semi-transparent gauze-like material. The photo that came out of it reminded me of a painting my brother might do.)