Farsighted Fly Girl

I journeyed to Rio during the Brazilian winter. This means that I didn't witness any actual nude sunbathing or glimpse the notorious Copacabana dental-flossed behinds. It also means that I didn't get to see Carnaval. Instead, I saw the half-mile expanse of the Sambadrome, empty of all the Carnaval crowds and clutter. Without the samba schools dancing and the floats rolling by, the space still seemed to vibrate with the energy left behind. There's nothing really spectacular about the Sambadrome itself, it's just a road flanked by spectator stands. But when I walked a few feet down the road, it was easy to imagine the seats filled with 65,000 screaming cariocas. You can see Rio's sweeping mountains dotted with favelas straight ahead. Off to the side, there's a small store bursting with the sequins and feathers of Carnaval costumes. You can buy or rent the costumes and I tried on a sparkly pink and orange confection. Marching down the Sambadrome with my feathers r...

As I bustled past street vendors selling coconut candy bars and the sleek, shiny-haired, hotties that fill Rio streets, I realized that I missed something. I couldn't put my finger on what exactly. When I neared the the orgy of beauty called Copacabana Beach, observing the languid motions of skimpily-clad cariocas strolling in the sand, it hit me. There was supposed to be a samba soundtrack to all of these scenes! How can you have a true Brazilian experience without samba as the backdrop? I needed to hear some live Brazilian rhythms! It happened to be a Sunday when I made my proclamation and my guide Da'vid didn't look too confident about it. It seems that most musicians take Sundays off in Rio. There I was, in the party capitol of the universe and it stops on Sunday? It didn't make much sense to me so we headed to the famous bohemian district of Lapa. Overflowing with street hustlers and artists of all stripes, Lapa does not close down. Built in the 18th century and m...