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Day 4: Monday, March 4, 2002

After breakfast, we headed to Ipanema Beach.  The volleyball tournament had ended, and they were now tearing down the stadium.  The beaches were less crowded and cleaner, now that the weekend was over; however, their was still no lack of talent at the beach.  We rented chairs and umbrellas and enjoyed another day at the beach.  This time however, we were watching a fantastic surf crashing into the beach.  These were waves challenging us to ride them.  The girls were the first to take the challenge.  Jon and I prepared our battle strategy while the girls were pummeled by these massive waves.  When they came back saddled with defeat, we briefly discussed and then marched to the sea.  The waves were massive, we were faring no better.  A Brazilian boy swimming in the sea offered advice, but somehow, we figured his ripped body had more to do with his success then his style.   Anyway, we had loads of fun surfing these gargantuan waves.

After cleaning up for lunch, we strolled through a farmers market selling various fruits and vegetables.  This must be seen as a true treasure for the locals, for everything looked and smelled fantastic.  It was here in the cramped quarters of a crowded alleyway that I first consciously worried about being pick-pocketed.  Fortunately, nothing happened and we strolled somewhat aimlessly along the inner city streets of Rio.  After some brief window shopping, Dana and I recalled a seemingly happening lunch destination we walked past yesterday.  After little more then mentioning the destination, we decided it was the place for us.

The restaurant happened to be the location where Antonio Carlos Jobim and Norman Gimbel, the writers of the famed song “The Girl from Ipanema”, claimed to have received the inspiration.  The restaurant was more a bar than restaurant really, but it had great food.  We sat in open air seating enjoying lunch and watching the Brazilian life slowly pass by.  During which time we were blessed with strolling Samba band playing for tips at this probable tourist destination.

We followed the same plan for Sugar Loaf as we did Corcovado.  Heading up at dusk to catch the daylight and the twilight pictures.  The view was remarkable and we blessed with a rather beautiful sunset.  For dinner that night we were hooking up with a fraternity brother of Jon’s, Aaron Berkowitz.  We were planning on going to Churascaria in Ipanema and meeting around 9.  However, when we got back to the hotel around 8; we found that Aaron and his buddy were already at dinner and they had gone to Porcao Rio.  Considering this, we had to come home and immediately hustle back to Copacabana (where Sugar Mountain is located).

We hustled down to catch a cab, only find to the exact same driver that took us to Porcao Rio the last time.  Yes, in case you did not catch it, this was the exact restaurant Dana and I had randomly chosen three days earlier.  Anyway, Dana recognized this driver from the word go.  I was already a little chapped about missing a break, so this driver was going to be in for a treat.  The cabbie began explaining, how far away the restaurant was and that it was standard policy to charge a flat right.  Midway through, I simply stated, “Look there is no way we are paying a flat rate” and I opened the cab door to get out.  He quickly stammered “OK, we will use the meter” when Dana responded, “ Yeah, but no stopping for gas this time”.  Now, he was pissed.  Suddenly he spoke perfect English.   We knew the bastard had all along.  He starts screaming “Get out of my cab!!  I am not going to take you”.  I jump right out, quickly followed by everyone but Jon.

The front door was apparently broken, where Jon was unfortunately sitting.  Now, Jon is stuck fidgeting with the door, while we explain to the hotel valet that this cab driver is scamming their customers.  Ultimately, Jon had to exit through the drivers side door.  The Hotel realizing our frustration had a valet drive us to the Restaurant.  Dinner was more of the same goodness, filled with as much beef as voiced opinions.

After dinner, we decided to head out for a few more drinks.  I opted for a Brazilian club or a club of a different sort popular in Copacabana.  However, our hosts were out on a  school night, so they wanted something more low key.  We ended up at Shanagins, an Irish bar in Ipanema – not that unlike the locale of the same name in Chicago.  The principal difference being how the financing of drinks is managed in Brazil.  We were given white sheets of paper when we entered the bar.  These sheets were are own personal tab.  For every drink you ordered they would mark the sheet.  You were required to exit the bar with the tab, or you had to pay something like a $100 fine.  Anyway, after a few cocktails we headed home.