Rio

 

As I walk past an Italian Supermarket I wonder where I am. Yesterday in a supermarket I heard Robbie Williams singing angels. I spent the morning in an internet cafe. Surrounded by skyscraper flats and hotels it could be anywhere in the world. The noise of the traffic is deafening and fatiguing. A barefooted youth passes me carrying a surf board. I follow the youth. Is he going to the beach? No he's not so I change direction hoping to reach the beach and a more peaceful space. I glimpse the sea and quicken my steps. I wait 5 mins to cross the road. When I reach the beach the noise of the traffic beats the sound of the crashing waves. I wish I was a surfer at least I could escape the thundering traffic.

From hunger I almost enter a McDonald's but I opt instead for a restaurant. I take a table outside. Whilst eating my meal I watch a shoeless old man pass amidst the heavy traffic. He is pushing a handcart laden with rubbish. In the opposite direction a horse and cart driven by two young men whom I suspect would have been in school in many other parts of the world pass by. The cart is also full of rubbish.  

I back inside and order hot Amarillo, delicious. I look outside. It is raining again. It has rained for two weeks-since I arrived. I was told to bring warm weather clothes, beach clothes. I have spent one afternoon on the beach. The waves are too big to risk swimming and the under current grazes and bruises ones body as it drags one over the coarse sand.

I have bought lots of traditional rubbish but never expected that I would have to buy an umbrella.