It was mid afternoon and Litz went out of the hostel in Ipanema wearing only her swimsuit and a pair of short jeans. The heat was incredibly humid that day and she had already packed most of her stuff. It was her last day in Rio and she started to get emotional. She walked along the beach to reach her friend Kylie for a beach volley training. Her thoughts were a mix of fear for doing sport for the first time after many years and melancholy for what she had still to see in the city.
Ipanema was crowded. The two girls had to find a little spot on the sand to sunbathe while waiting for the trainer. Two Brazilian guys approached playing football to get noticed. They were hot, but both Kylie and Litz were not in the mood to meet guys. Litz was at ease with herself and had to leave soon, while Kylie was having a complicated situation with the guy of her dreams (after having had a one night stand with one of his flatmates after a party because she was drunk). Kylie lived in Rio and was having that beach volley training once a week, so she had invited Litz to join it at least once.
The trainer arrived, as well as the rest of the trainees. Most of them were foreigners living in Rio or tourists. The trainer was one of the few English-speaking people in Ipanema. Litz quickly recalled some volley fundamentals, but she also felt that her body was not ready to do sport. She had eaten and drunk too badly for the last weeks. She started to feel like she was going to faint. A Brazilian guy with long hair and a casual look recognized her disease and asked in a mix of English and Portuguese if she was ok. She explained her problem and he suggested her a few tricks on where to stand not to get too tired running all over the field to catch the ball.
Ben, her close German friend wearing an AS Roma swimwear (he loved Italy and especially Rome), laughed at Litz while standing next to the field with his relaxed belly at clear sight. He was a brilliant entrepreneur and one of those guys who doesn’t give a f**k about almost anything. She adored his company. When the training ended, they all dived into the Ocean and slowly came back to the beach to admire one of the best spectacles of Ipanema beach (and the whole Rio): the sunset. Litz was kind of used to it. She tried to go and see it everyday. It made her feel free. However, that day was her last day in the city and she needed to make a vivid impression in her mind of her most coveted and unmet desire: going to Vidigal.
Vidigal was a pacified favela lying on the top of the mountain in front of Ipanema. You could see it darkening in front of the light of the sunset. Every night she dreamed she would get there and every night the sun went down to the Ocean leaving the amazing favela a far place full of lights. You could get there by a paid tour thanks to non profit organizations or tourist agencies. However, Litz had a specific opinion on that kind of experience and she avoided it at all costs. Her only way to get there would be thanks to a local inviting her. She didn’t meet anyone, so that place stayed in her mind as a romantic unreachable goal to propel a future visit to Rio.
Kylie, Litz, Ben and Suzanne, a Dutch girl having reached them for dinner, split in two groups to eat. As Suzanne was vegan, Ben volunteered to eat with her at a vegan restaurant. Kylie and Litz went to try a new hamburger spot next to Litz’ hostel. They all met soon afterwards at a cool rock club at walking distance. Litz had gone there already a couple of times to get a cold cheap beer and listen to some decent music. Brazilian funk was cool, but – hey – everyone has preferences and she needed to listen to some good rock music from time to time. Luckily her European friends had her same taste about music.
They got a table outside and started to drink and talk aloud about the recent shared memories in Rio. The club was crowded, so they were not really noisy. However, at some point, a thick bald-all-tattooed-head guy came out and stood arms crossed in front of Suzanne. She was talking, so she didn’t really noticed him. He was not angry nor threatening. He was just having a presence to get Suzanne’s attention, who was the typical exotic girl for Brazilian men. Litz crossed his eyes like saying: “I get it”. She whispered something at Ben’s ear and in a while a cab arrived. They left the place unnoticed, except for the big tattoed man, who followed them through his sight. Later on Litz discovered by a common friend that he was the club’s owner.
Litz came back to the hostel late at night. She walked silently not to wake up her mates, quickly undressed herself and put on her pijama. Her few things arranged, she put the last dirty clothes in her laptop bag and gave a last glance to her pink backpack. She was ready to leave.
Goodbye, Rio de Janeiro!
