IPANEMA SUNSET

Our plane landed at 10:00 am, and as soon as our taxi dropped us off at the Windsor Atlantica, we were off sightseeing. It was Sunday morning in Ipanema. The sun was shining and the beach was glorious. Despite having just flown 15 hours with a long layover in Miami, we jumped out on to Copacabana beach and began our day. Jetlag exhaustion was nothing that fresh coconut water from a coconut could not fix.

Sunday in Copacabana is the best time to take in Rio. EVERYONE is out and about on the strand. People are drinking juices, watching the waves and working out. All ages and all body types are tan and dressed in minimal clothing. The stories  I had heard that Brazilians are full of life and gorgeous (wearing skimpy bikinis and showing off their toned bodies) were confirmed within the first five minutes.

The Sunday strand was as full of people walking about as the 405 is jammed on a weekday commute. Some were dancing in impromptu samba contests. Others were riding skateboards and bikes. Everyone was enjoying the sun and each other. 

Each district along the beach had its own beach culture and vibe. We started in Copacabana, the south side, which is middle class, beautiful but had its heyday in the 60cs. It's pretty but not too fancy. The more north you go, to Ipanema and Leblon, the fancier it gets. Models and jetsetters hang out at post 9. It’s the scene for the beautiful people.

We were not quite world trotting jetsetters but managed took a taxi to Ipanema and check out the Sunday Art Fair. Strolling back along the tree lined avenues and checking out the designer boutiques proved to be the perfect start to our stay. We ducked into “Bar Astor" for a late lunch, mingling with stylish, kate spade type 20 somethings. I was surprised how fashionable and trendy the scene actually was. It was on par with a Los Angeles brunch on Robertson: designer dresses and heels, gabbing with girlfriends over some tapa appetizers and drinking mixed artisanal $15 cocktails. We had come 4000 miles to enjoy a scene that could take place a few miles from home. I loved everything, except the sad salad we were served. Brazilians could mimic 20s American interior vibe, outdo modern American fashion, but could not get the Caesar salad with chicken quite right.

We continued walking along the strip, admiring the patterned tiles and the colorful sky. Following my mom's guidebook advice, we walked to the end rock Arpoador, to watch the sunset. People clapped and cheered when the sun went down.

It was tropical. It was beautiful. It was both exotic and familiar.  It was the Rio of dreams, attractive, alluring and incredibly hip. Even with my mom in tow.