Colour is a commodity

Colour is a commodity, a vibrancy expressed throughout the ideas and artists of Rio. Streets are adorned throughout and accessories sold by beach hawkers to tourists local, national and further afield drip with the bright hues associated with the brazillian flag and beyond. Botafogo features its fair share of street art and as our many forms of transport weave dangerously through the roads of Rio, we curse as incredible scenes pass us by, unable to capture what we see through the black tinted windows.

Extreme weathering in the exterior of buildings is commonplace and could be described as a design feature in Rio. Many places appear dishevelled with a specific South American charm that is hard to describe. The contrasts live side by side with near decrepit buildings holding their own adjoining modern corporate glass structures.

Christ the redeemer (Cristo redentor) stands over Rio on a mountain so high (corcovado) you can see him in most places. Look up and he is there, looming and omni-present. The statue is situated in Tijuca National park and was built as a centenary gift in 1932. En route we meet a Greek belly dancer called Nelly who danced for the prince of Abu Dhabi and Nina, an Austrian market researcher on a Gap year from Vienna. Daniel, our tour guide expertly delivers his script in English and Portu-Spanish telling us about things I expertly forget. We stop at a quaint (south American quaint) place called Santa Teresa and are shimmied into a gift shop in which nobody buys a single thing.

Our last night of Oztel unfolded in front of us as hosts Andrezzer and Fernando turned on their charm in the hostel bar. We decided to eat in the open roofed lobby/bar after running out of places to eat which were walking distance in downtown Botafogo. Nighttime Botafogo is dense with bars but a bit light on restaurants. Decision made for us, we order and chef Luciano cooks for us behind the bar on a tiny beaten up stove. Luciano cooks with a high flame (watch those eyebrows Luciano) and adds irresponsible amounts of garlic to the steak mignon appetiser (I love it) We also try a polenta linguica which is similar to a smooth mashed potato consistency but made from corn. Alongside the polenta I am given two shot glasses. One is full of mince meat and the other is an orangey red liquid. One is to drink and one is to mix with the polenta. Fernando is proud of his new red bull fridge in the shape of an ice cube. “Only one in Rio!” He exclaims as the rest of his staff deride him for his seemingly bad taste. We side with him knowing he is the owner, trying to angle for some free stuff from him. It eventually works and we taste Cachasa for the first time. I like it as I like most booze that is in front of me, or to the side slightly. In return Andresser and Fernando work us back and ply us with cocktails. I order one called “Bitch don’t kill my vibe”. We drink till late and collapse into bed feeling well and truly hosted.

We wave goodbye to Botafogo impressed with the hospitality of the people and nursing a well earned Brazillian hangover.