Walking Around Gloria, Rio
06/12/10
I wore sunglasses to hide the fact that my eyeballs were naked and I had not slept in days. The shades had turned the shoreline into a shadow of blackness: a tree-covered landscape became a blanket of dark green and silver pinned by grand rocks lighted a golden brown, the mountains of constant summer. Smooth crests of rocks vanished under a shoreline of tree limbs as we walked, hand in hand, lowering the sky around Boxie-boo’s smile.
For the cost of 10 Reias more, we were in good spirits having switched from the El Misti Hostel to the Golden Park Hotel in Gloria, excited for our first night of quiet sleep. The two establishments were about as comparable for comfort as a hemorrhoid is to a professional massage. We switched from a dungeon of compressed bass, mildew, urine and broken appliances, to a hot private bathroom, cable T.V., fresh air and a soft, quiet bed, where the only sound was the low, smooth breeze of the air-conditioner.
I listened to my footsteps as we switched to the sand; the absence of sensation made me feel as though I was sleep walking. Behind us, sand seemed to fall, blurring the trail of our steps. I left my sunglasses on for a moment: large, boisterous waves fell beaming away from the flawless blanket of black. Beyond the palm trees, modern buildings of reflected glass moved the water up its concrete frame, below the mountains, creating a curtain of waves.
“This has to be one of the most beautiful cities we have been to on this trip,” I said, removing my sunglasses to take photographs. I let my mind catch up with my body; silent, Boxie-boo looked across the horizon with me. Framed against the sun and shoreline, the beach was empty around her. The mountain ran like a fever heated across the sand. Rio was a city that entertained us by simply walking through it.
The city had the ability to seduce us away from our exhaustion. Being grumpy in such a beautiful setting was no more useful than yelling at a fire hydrant for smelling of dog pee, so we persevered, admiring the neighbourhood of Gloria where locals played keep up with soccer balls under trees dangling with vines.
Admittedly, though, by the time we returned to our room, we needed rest. Hearing the quiet, Boxie-boo looked utterly, carelessly happy. My body absorbed the soft mattress, leaving me to feel absent from my own body. Local beads of condensation grazed a cold beer, while we watched the World Cup on T.V. Too lazy to move, we ordered a pizza, moving so slowly our movements seemed from memory.
A night of relaxation was just what we needed.
That’s all for now.
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