Copacabana

I rise a little before nine. Type up yesterday until the kids knock on my door around 9:30. When we go downstairs for breakfast.

I go for my classic Brazilian breakfast: scrambled eggs and bacon, followed by fruit for pudding. Alexei gets stuck in pretty enthusiastically. While Andrew eats fuck all.

What's our plan for today? Visit the Copacabana fort and then have drinks/lunch in Colarinho, which is just around the corner from it. And find somewhere to watch the final of the Euros. Preferably with a big screen.

In a big digression from my usual behaviour, we walk there. Along the Ipanema promenade. Giving the kids a chance to see just how wonderful the beach is. It’s not too hot. Even Andrew doesn’t complain.

Though we are a little warm when we reach Copacabana.

"Shall we have a drink first?" Alexei suggests.

"Sure." I'm not going to miss a chance to booze. “It’ll help us cool down.”

It's pretty empty when we arrive.

I have a Colarinho IPA. While the kids get Colarinho Pils. My beer is quite harshly bitter, with a tobacco aroma. Are they using American hops? A look at the menu confirms that they do. Doesn’t particularly taste like it.

“How’s the Pils?”

“OK. Like Pils.” Andrew replies.

Clearly his first South American draught beer isn’t making much of an impression.

One beer is enough for me. Then I move on to caipirnhas. Andrew joins me. He’s very much a joiner in. When it comes to alcoholic drinks. He’s drunk cachaca before, but never had a caipirinha.

“What do you think?”

“Good.” That’s slightly more enthusiasm than for the beer.

Andrew is wearing his Machine House Mild T-shirt. I can’t imagine there are many others in Rio.

Alexei is feeling hungry and we order a croquette and a plate of chips. Which satisfies him for a while. Me and Andrew pick at the chips a bit.

“How are you finding Rio?”

“OK. I can’t really say. We’ve hardly seen any of it yet.” Alexei can be such a pedant.

“You must be getting a vibe, though?”

“It’s OK. Just stop going on about it.”

“How about you, Andrew.”

“Do we really have to do this, Dad? Can’t we just have a drink?”

While we're sitting there, they roll out a giant screen Looks like this will be a good spot to watch the game. The final of the Euros. But first we need to visit the fort. We troll on down there just after 1 PM.

The fort still seems to be a military base. Quite a few soldiers are hanging around. And working the till.

They only take cash. Which is a bit weird. Luckily, I just about have enough. Some odd notes left over from my visit earlier in the year. They try charging me full price. So I say "Pensionado". Then they let me in for free.

“You should have said ‘senior citizen’. They’d have understood that better.”

“They let me in for free, didn’t they?”

 

There's a great view of Copacabana beach from the fort. Alexei takes loads of photos. Which saves me the trouble.

“Doesn’t it make you think of the song?”

“What are you talking about. You really are going senile.” Alexei doesn’t get my drift.

“Copacabana. That great Barry Manilow song. You must know it.”

“You mean that shit song.”

“OK, it wasn’t the best. It wasn’t even his best. And that’s a pretty low bar.”

“What are you rambling on about?”

“But doesn’t the song pop into your head when you’re in Copacabana?”

“No. Because I’m not weird.”

“I’m not weird, am I?”

“Yes. Most definitely. And can we move on?”

An odd selection of old artillery pieces lines the path. A mix of German and US hardware.

We walk up onto the top of the fort. Not too far onto in the case of me and Andrew. As it’s not totally flat and there aren’t really any guardrails. Alexei is more adventurous. As usual.

The army museum is pretty interesting. Though quite small. It seems to take a very selective view of Brazilian history. Missing out the military coups. I wonder why that is?

There is a section on WW II. I only recently learnt of the role of Brazilian army and air force in Italy. It’s not very well known outside Brazil.

We get back to Colarinho at three. To make sure we get a seat. Just as well. As all are taken long before kick off. A queue forms outside. Mostly English people.

The game is pretty annoying. With the foreigners cheating again. Spain's winning "goal" is clearly offside.

Even before the game has ended, Columbia and Argentina fans have started turning up. For the Copa America final. As it's a while before the game is due to start, we head back to our hotel.

I intended to go to the beer place around the corner. But it isn't open. And doesn't look like it ever will be again, as there's a "for sale" sign on the building. Instead, we go to, Badalado, a place a little down the street.

We sit outside, with a good view of a TV. The kids get themselves a Heineken. I stick with caiparinhas. Inside a family of Argentinians are eating. Presumably waiting for the game to start.

“How many caipirinhas are you going to drink today?”

“I’m consoling myself.”

“You’ve been consoling yourself since three hours before kick off.” Alexei points out, rather pedantically.

“Before, I was preparing myself. For the inevitable disappointment.”

“You’ve always got an excuse.”

“A reason.”

“Let’s not do this again.”

“What?”

“You know very well what I mean.”

Sometimes the kids make it impossible for me to have any fun.

Weirdly, the game is in Miami. It doesn't start on time as there were ticketless fans trying to break into the ground. We order some chips and croquettes while we're waiting. The chips are topped with cheese and raisins.

45 minutes after the scheduled start they haven't even warmed up. So we wander back to our hotel to watch the game. The kids go off to the shops again to get some drinks.

It's another annoying game. With Argentina scoring just before the end of extra time.

Alexei wanders off to bed a bit after midnight. While me and Andrew stay up later. Drinking.

Whisky is my bedtime consolation.


Boteco Colarinho Escondido
R. Francisco Otaviano, 30
Copacabana,
Rio de Janeiro,
RJ, 22080-040.


Badalado Ipanema
R. Prudente de Morais, 416
Ipanema,
Rio de Janeiro.
https://lp.badaladorj.com.br/ipanema/