|I forget what part of Rio this is|
|Not like the pose in "Dogma"|
|Freestyle is my homeboy|
|All that walking and this is the best pic!|
|Getting the hang of the subways|
When we get back into town, we get some grub at Kilograma, a churrascaria where you pay by the kilograma. Delicious again. The food helps us recharge for our bus ride to Urca/Sugarloaf Mountain. Pete and I are starting to understand the buses and subways a little better, and I’m definitely becoming a fan of the public transportation.
|Wondering how thrilling it'd be to ride on top of the cable car|
|Ever wonder why Fiats are so popular in other countries?|
Back in Copacabana, we eat some delicious empanadas at O Rei Das Empanadas, a Lonely Planet suggestion – one of the few good ones mind you. A quick shower, and bidet splash(!), and it’s off to Ipanema. We figured we’d start off at Garota de Ipanema, where the song “A Girl from Ipanema” was written, but the place looks ho-hum, so we walk to some pizzeria pub. The pub is right next to a club that’s lined up with beautiful people. I wonder if the Brazilian dudes are totally desensitized to beautiful women. Do they think they’re like Fiats or something? Just everywhere and not noteworthy to anyone but Americans?
At the pub, which name I don’t know, I have the local special – caipirinha, a sugar cane drink that tastes like a cross between margarita and mojitio. This drink floors me. Totally feeling it, I’m thinking it’s time to bust out my lines “ola gata”(hello pretty lady) and “gosto de voce” (I like you). But the line at the club is dwindling, and we discover it’s a $70R cover. Not wanting to drop that kind of dough, we decide to roll elsewhere. We ask the cabbie where’s a nice place to meet ladies. The dude says Barbarella. Coincidentally, the same place Jorge, the cab driver-potential kidnapper from the previous day suggested. Sweetness.
|Barbarellas is the spot on the left with lights... and whores|
We arrive at Barbarella, which is conveniently near our hotel, and I’m pretty buzzed still. Yet I'm coherent enough to notice this doesn’t look like the bars and pubs we’ve been frequenting. Once we walk in, it’s a strip club. Really? We ask people where to meet ladies – and they take us to a strip club? Come on Brazil! You can do better than that. What’s even more shady, there wasn’t even that much stripping going on at this club. Instead, the women (who mind you – are still beautiful – which begs the question – why are they in this place?) proposition guys. Two women approach us and the first thing one of them says to Pete is “Sexo?” Errrr… no thank you. Buzz kill. Night over. Disappointing end.
Although… I still got to drop my Portuguese lines.