Once we were settled into our four-person suite, we took off for the beach. Unfortunately, by the time we got there, the weather was chilly with an overcast sky. Dan and I decided to walk beside the ocean rather than posting camp. We were both pleasantly surprised by how clean the beach was for a seemingly overrun area. The sand was incredibly soft and could best be described as feeling like sifted flour under our toes. Rio's two most famous beaches, Copacabana and Ipanema Beach, connect at a rocky overlook atop which Dan and I hung out. We had amazing views of the area, and sat for awhile just watching the waves crash in.
At night, Dan and I rejoined with a few of our Mellow Yellow hostel friends, as well as a couple of new faces. With four continents and six countries represented, we were like a traveling United Nations. Our group went to meet up with some people who were at a Samba party due to end at midnight. Considering it was a quarter of when we got in a taxi, I was a little confused about why we would bother driving all the way to the party. However, upon arriving it became clear that the party had simply transplanted onto the street.
We spent the next couple hours talking, drinking, and making new friends. By the end of the night, I had gained a new appreciation for the--sometimes minute, sometimes significant--differences among regional perspectives, on topics ranging from pop culture to politics.
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