We feel a tad over dressed as we meander down Peter Allan's Copacabana beach front. Wonder jockettes, that lift and separate provide us with evidence that circumcision is alive and well in Brazil and G bangers or flosskinis attack ensuring increased sale of savlon. It did not take us long to realise that topless bathing has never caught on in Rio, in fact Brazilian women are not prepared to bare all and Brazilian men are not keen for them to do so. Surely, a contradiction to the amount of material used in their basic swimwear. There is no such thing as a bikini body, rather if you have a body you wear a bikini!
Daily; we stroll along the beach front from Lemme, to Copacabana and Ipanema, barefoot, amongst the sun worshippers, taste the salt on our skin and the cool caress of the ocean on our feet. Stopping at a number of brightly coloured kiosks along the way we partake in the atmosphere and rehydrate. We watch impromptu samba moves, the rhythmatic movements of Capoeara, soccer and volleyball games that join the chorus of the waves crashing along the shore. Hawkers laiden with their wares roam, bellowing and seeking eye contact to ready themselves for a sale. We take in the spectacle of the great curve of Copacabana beach from the embankment of Forte de Copacabana as paddle boarders bob on the ocean currents below. The call of Caipirinha beckons us to the Copacabana Palace; here we sip our drinks poolside and scan the banana lounges for A listers . Finally; creatures of habit, we sit at the water edge at dusk , crack open cans of Itaipava cerveja, paddle the shore line, take in the beauty and reminisce about our amazing journey.
Rio de Janeiro in Brasil was chosen for our last sojourn on our epic, holiday adventure to provide us with time to recuperate. After the mountains, glaciers, volcanoes, waterfalls and wilderness we find ourselves a tad tired. Good reason for some well earned rest and relaxation, we thinks!
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