After a long lie-in I walked with Jim towards Ipanema along the waters edge. The white sand was lost beneath bronzed people engaged in beach activities. Jim had forgotten his security locker key and went back to the hostel to get it while I waited on the front and watched the crowd go by.
Sexy girls, happy children, people young and old cheerful at the prospect of a lazy sunny Sunday on the beach. Jim returned and we walked into Ipanema which is a neighbourhood located in the South Zone of the city of Rio de Janeiro, between Leblon and Arpoador.
The beach at Ipanema became known internationally with the popularity of the bossa nova jazz song, "The Girl from Ipanema" ("Garota de Ipanema"), written by Antônio Carlos Jobim and Vinícius de Moraes.
We met a guy from Finland that Jim knew, and he watched our gear while we went swimming in the violent sea. The Atlantic Ocean here had a savage undertow. Thieves were everywhere in Rio and unguarded gear left on the beach tended to disappear almost immediately. The Fin had his trousers stolen on Copacabana Beach yesterday, while he was reading a book.
It was like a film set or a tourist brochure with sun, sea, sand and pretty women in bikinis everywhere. The song "The Girl from Ipanema" played in my head. After a while we walked inland to see the big Lagoa (lake). Rodrigo de Freitas Lagoon (Portuguese: Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas) is a lagoon in the district of Lagoa in the Zona Sul (South Zone) area of Rio de Janeiro.
The lagoon is connected to the Atlantic Ocean, allowing sea water to enter by a canal along the edge of a park locally known as Jardim de Alah. The lagoon was surrounded by lakeside hotels. We walked back to Copacabana where I bought a vest for the hot weather to come and swam in the gentler surf of Copacabana beach.
At 16:30 hrs. we went back to the Youth Hostel for a shower. Down-and-outs (homeless) sat in doorways and outside the church. “If you have to live in somebody’s doorway, I guess Copacabana is a good place to do it”, said Jim. Most of the people living on the streets looked very fit and affluent despite their lack of clothing and possessions.
After a shower and a change of T-shirt I went out to get something to eat with Jim. We finally settled for a meal of chicken and lasagne at a stand-up corner bar. Afterwards we walked along the front towards the Sugar Loaf Mountain, stopping to drink coconut juice from green coconuts which the short-changing youth at the kiosk dangerously hacked open with a meat cleaver.
Joggers and lovers monopolised the seafront promenade on our return. We had some chocolate cake and had a beer. Drunks and vagrants slept on the sidewalks as the affluent headed for the night clubs in their sequined outfits.
Back at the hostel the security doorman verified our identity through a hatch in the door before letting us in. This was a sign that Rio could be a dangerous place as well as a playground.
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