I rise at 8:30. Potter around a bit, then nip downstairs for breakfast.
It's not a bad buffet. I go for bacon and scrambled egg. Followed by fruit. I'm such a healthy chap.
I wander to the supermarket to stock up on essentials: salami and cachaca. Two litres. I'll be needing that in Uberlandia. And am not quite sure where I could pick up some there. Or when I’ll have the chance. It’s not exactly the best stuff. Far from it. Not a cachaca you’d want to drink straight.
The weather isn’t great. It’s cloudy and threatening to rain. Not really beach weather. And only around 25º C.
I laze around in my room for a while. I'm in no rush. Around 13:30 grab an Uber and head for Copacabana and Colarinho. A bar that I rather like.
We roll through leafy Ipanema streets. Bustling businesses and apartment blocks. Chemists. So many chemists. Almost as many as in Paris.
I always try to drop by Colarinho when I’m in Rio. Grabbing a table outside. Where I’ve a good view of the street. There aren’t quite as many beautiful people walking past as usual. Though some still wander by in beachwear.
What to start with? I think I’ll go for an IPA.
Colarinho IPA Maracuja, 7.5%, R$23.90
A bit hazy, but not too bad. Quite nicely fruity and not too bitter. Quite dank and quite alcoholic. Just like me (I keep making that joke.)
They’re still building opposite. How long have they been doing that? At least a couple of years. I doesn’t seem to have progressed at all since I was here with the kids in 2024.
This is my only real rest day. I did consider going to the beach. Then I saw what the weather was like. I don’t really fancy sitting on the sand in the rain.
I first came here with Martyn Cornell in 2020. On my first trip to Brazil. I’ve visited pretty much every time I’ve been in Rio since. It reminds me of Martyn, which brings up mixed emotions. Still hard to believe that he’s been gone almost a year.
Time for another beer. Maybe an IPA, for a change?
Noi Amara IPA, 10.5% ABV, 100 IBU, R$30.90 (450 ml)
Pretty sure I’ve had this before. I wonder what attracted me to it? I remember: the high ABV. Funny that. It’s quite dark and caramelly. Also, pretty bitter. As you’d expect from the name.
Not bad. And very alcoholic. Did I mention that? Probably not. I don’t pay much attention to that sort of thing.
It’s not that warm. Did I already mention that, too? Barely warm enough to wear shorts. Which I’m obviously wearing. As I will be all the time I’m in Brazil.
The bloke on the next table is getting stuck into caipirinhas. He’s knocked back three or four since I’ve been here. I’ll be moving onto them later.
I’m feeling all relaxed now. Can’t think why. I just ordered a 57 real steak. Bargain. I don’t get anything to go with it. It’s a 100% meat meal.
A woman just walked past wearing a Nottingham Forest shirt. How strange. Most people are in Flamengo tops.
The steak is excellent. As they always are in Brazil. The beef is so good here. Just a shame about all the rainforest. Time for a caipirinha now. My first of the trip. I’m sure it won’t be my last.
You know what a caipirinha puts me in the mood for? Another caipirinha. Which is what I order. This is my idea of fun. Sitting in a Rio bar, drinking caipirinhas and with absolutely fuck all I need to do.
Still a bit hungry, I order a cod ball. Because I know from previous visits how nice they are. Full of coddy goodness. It doesn’t disappoint.
A French family, on their way back from the beach, order takeaway hamburgers. The adults drinking a Pils while they wait for their order.
I leave around 17:30. Before it gets dark. And when I’ve had enough caipirinhas to warm me up. I have nothing planned for the evening. Other than attacking my hotel whisky and fiddling on my laptop.
I find that the maid has left the TV on. A bit odd. As there must be a reason, I don’t switch it off.
I turn in around 23:00. As I have to be up fairly early tomorrow for my flight. After I’m urged unconscious by whisky.
Boteco Colarinho Escondido
R. Francisco Otaviano, 30
Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro
RJ, 22080-040























