The day before our flight to Rio, I still haven't heard back from TribOz, the music venue where I am hoping to hold our show next year. We will be in Rio for three nights and two days. In that time I need to find a suitable place. I'm worried that they won't be open on Sunday and Monday. This leaves Saturday night.
I look online and see that they have a show on Saturday night. If we're serious about attending, we need to reserve seats. So I steel myself and phone them from Recife, first experimenting with various permutations of numbers, as a call from my mobile is an international call via Australia. When the girl at the other end confirms our reservation, I breathe a sigh of relief.
Our flight departs mid-afternoon on Saturday, and takes about two and a half hours. Finally the plane descends, and through the window I see the familiar contours of Rio de Janeiro. Silently I sing the song conceived by Tom Jobim as he witnessed this very sight:
How my heart is singing,
I see Rio de Janeiro.
My longing lonely days are ending,
Rio my love, there by the sea,
Rio my love, waiting for me.
See the cable cars
That sway above the bay of Guanabara.
Tiny sailboats down below
Dance the samba as they go.
Shining Rio, there you lie,
City of sand and sea and sky
Mountains of green rising so high.
Four minutes more, we'll be there
At the airport of Galeão!
Statue of the Saviour
With open arms above the yellow seashore...
Well OK, I can't actually see the statue of Christ the Redeemer from the plane, though my husband insists he saw it.
Arriving at the Tom Jobim airport, we reserve a taxi at an official-looking booth, and soon we're on our way to Ipanema Beach. Our hotel is on the beach-front, and the window of our room overlooks the sea. This is a very good start.
We have a quick meal in the hotel, then we venture outside to get a taxi to the Lapa District where TribOz is located. It's dark, and the trip takes twenty minutes or so. The taxi travels slowly down a quiet alley. I can't see any entertainment venues, but he stops outside a building surrounded by scaffolding.
We've arrived.
It's about ten past nine. We go in and announce ourselves brightly to the lady in the entrance area.
"Oh", she says. Then, in English - "We have given your table away. We only hold it til 9 pm. Didn't the girl tell you that on the phone?"
My face falls. No! Don't tell me this! Perhaps I didn't understand the whole telephone conversation. I certainly didn't hear this crucial point.
"Well", she says, "Let me see if they are happy for you to join them. Are you willing sit with others?"
Yes, of course we are!
In a moment she's back. "Come this way".
We sit down at a table at the back of the small room. We nod to the woman who is already sitting there. Drink orders are taken and caipirinhas arrive.
The show is in full flight. It is a jazz trio, and the place is pumping.
I survey the scene. Indigenous masks adorn the walls. Cabaret-style tables, a small stage at the front, a grand piano, a mezzanine gallery.
This place is perfect.
During a break, the woman at our table asks if we speak English. Her name is Sharon, an American living in Rio. We get chatting, and I seek her advice on the issue of security precautions.
Sharon has some practical advice for us. It's safest not to carry a handbag, although Cariocas tend to carry huge ones that are thought to be more difficult to snatch. Don't wear jewellery or a watch. Keep your money on your person. Use pockets and a money belt. Keep a small amount of money accessible, and the rest under your clothes. Don't sling your camera around you - keep it hidden, and just bring it out to take a photo.
I comment that the women around us have brought handbags and are wearing jewellery. Sharon says it's common to put your jewellery on when you reach your destination. Coming to the show tonight on the subway, she left her own bag at home. It's safer if you travel by taxi. During the evening she digs around under her clothes to find some cash.
I joke that bag shops in Rio must be going broke.
A saxophone player joins the trio, and we are left open-mouthed at his virtuosity. At one point he removes the reed from his instrument and plays it, leaving his sax aside.
Finally we manage to speak with the Australian proprietor, Mike. He apologises profusely for not replying to my emails - "It's been crazy", he says.
I explain my situation again - that Enéias and I have developed an Australia-Brazil collaboration, that his venue would be a perfect match for us, and that we want to have a show next year.
"Fantastic," says Mike. "I'll put you on, no problem".
At the end of the night, a line of taxis is waiting right outside the door. Sharon joins us, getting out at Copacabana Beach.
I'm feeling elated. We've found our venue in Rio, and now we can relax and enjoy some sightseeing over the next two days.
Our mission has been accomplished.
I look online and see that they have a show on Saturday night. If we're serious about attending, we need to reserve seats. So I steel myself and phone them from Recife, first experimenting with various permutations of numbers, as a call from my mobile is an international call via Australia. When the girl at the other end confirms our reservation, I breathe a sigh of relief.
Our flight departs mid-afternoon on Saturday, and takes about two and a half hours. Finally the plane descends, and through the window I see the familiar contours of Rio de Janeiro. Silently I sing the song conceived by Tom Jobim as he witnessed this very sight:
How my heart is singing,
I see Rio de Janeiro.
My longing lonely days are ending,
Rio my love, there by the sea,
Rio my love, waiting for me.
See the cable cars
That sway above the bay of Guanabara.
Tiny sailboats down below
Dance the samba as they go.
Shining Rio, there you lie,
City of sand and sea and sky
Mountains of green rising so high.
Four minutes more, we'll be there
At the airport of Galeão!
Statue of the Saviour
With open arms above the yellow seashore...
Well OK, I can't actually see the statue of Christ the Redeemer from the plane, though my husband insists he saw it.
Arriving at the Tom Jobim airport, we reserve a taxi at an official-looking booth, and soon we're on our way to Ipanema Beach. Our hotel is on the beach-front, and the window of our room overlooks the sea. This is a very good start.
We have a quick meal in the hotel, then we venture outside to get a taxi to the Lapa District where TribOz is located. It's dark, and the trip takes twenty minutes or so. The taxi travels slowly down a quiet alley. I can't see any entertainment venues, but he stops outside a building surrounded by scaffolding.
We've arrived.
It's about ten past nine. We go in and announce ourselves brightly to the lady in the entrance area.
"Oh", she says. Then, in English - "We have given your table away. We only hold it til 9 pm. Didn't the girl tell you that on the phone?"
My face falls. No! Don't tell me this! Perhaps I didn't understand the whole telephone conversation. I certainly didn't hear this crucial point.
"Well", she says, "Let me see if they are happy for you to join them. Are you willing sit with others?"
Yes, of course we are!
In a moment she's back. "Come this way".
We sit down at a table at the back of the small room. We nod to the woman who is already sitting there. Drink orders are taken and caipirinhas arrive.
The show is in full flight. It is a jazz trio, and the place is pumping.
I survey the scene. Indigenous masks adorn the walls. Cabaret-style tables, a small stage at the front, a grand piano, a mezzanine gallery.
This place is perfect.
During a break, the woman at our table asks if we speak English. Her name is Sharon, an American living in Rio. We get chatting, and I seek her advice on the issue of security precautions.
Sharon has some practical advice for us. It's safest not to carry a handbag, although Cariocas tend to carry huge ones that are thought to be more difficult to snatch. Don't wear jewellery or a watch. Keep your money on your person. Use pockets and a money belt. Keep a small amount of money accessible, and the rest under your clothes. Don't sling your camera around you - keep it hidden, and just bring it out to take a photo.
I comment that the women around us have brought handbags and are wearing jewellery. Sharon says it's common to put your jewellery on when you reach your destination. Coming to the show tonight on the subway, she left her own bag at home. It's safer if you travel by taxi. During the evening she digs around under her clothes to find some cash.
I joke that bag shops in Rio must be going broke.
A saxophone player joins the trio, and we are left open-mouthed at his virtuosity. At one point he removes the reed from his instrument and plays it, leaving his sax aside.
Finally we manage to speak with the Australian proprietor, Mike. He apologises profusely for not replying to my emails - "It's been crazy", he says.
I explain my situation again - that Enéias and I have developed an Australia-Brazil collaboration, that his venue would be a perfect match for us, and that we want to have a show next year.
"Fantastic," says Mike. "I'll put you on, no problem".
At the end of the night, a line of taxis is waiting right outside the door. Sharon joins us, getting out at Copacabana Beach.
I'm feeling elated. We've found our venue in Rio, and now we can relax and enjoy some sightseeing over the next two days.
Our mission has been accomplished.
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