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Even the fountains sing and dance in Salvador, lit up at night with florescent, luminous colours!
Even the street cleaners are happy-go-lucky in Salvador, going about their post-carnival clean-up with syncronised dance steps!
Jumping, sweaty, glistening bodies covered by minimal clothing. All shapes and all sizes, all colours and all sexual persuasions!
Pushing, shoving, grooving, pinching, stroking, kissing, or just watching.
Stern, helmeted faces of police men and women marching through the thick black swarm. Shoving robustly, with batons in hand.
Trio monsters parked outside my Rua Chile hotel window; blaring is an understatement!
Eskies (freeze boxes) balanced on thin men's heads, competing in a price war. 0.99 centavos the cheapest going for a can of skol!
'Agua gelada' - PLEASE! Sweat dripping down my back caused by 30 degrees night-time temperatures and the body heat of thousands of enthusiastic revellers.
Tripping over fellow OLODUM bloc dancers' feet, constantly negotiating space, repetitive shuffling within the confines of the cordons.
Packed in like slippery sardines at Pra¨a Alves, pushing our way through like marching ants, jumping aside quickly to make way for the marching police.
Relief from a brief rain-shower - cool, clean shower.
Urine; stench of stench in corners and side streets. Cleaned each dawn with a powerful soap-sud machine and army of efficient cleaners leaving disinfectant lingering in your nose.
Children 'on stage' in party dress squirting each other with foam and jigging happily to Brazilian pop.
Tight, bright clothes galore on fat people, skinny people and some very beautiful people. No shame of size here!
Pretty, rich, drunk white brazilians in the camarotes or dancing with the 'trendy' blocs in Barra.
Frenetic applause and jumping to axˇ (an absurdly fast rhythm for European ears).
Mad techno and dance groove at an aca’ (energy-giving fruit) street bar in Barra. Audience of amused Brazilians until 4am!
Strong home-made tamarindo liquor on Pra¨a de Sˇ and the steps of Jorge Amado's museum in Pelourinho; sharing giggles with Diane.
Smiles and greetings and young and old charm on all sides.
Bahiacafˇ; internet and gringo joint with old-fashioned safariesque ceiling fans and a closed, sticky atmosphere. Favourite haunt of passing travellers and Doug, the roaming hippy Canadian musician.
Hotel Palace's Manoel, a proud and 'out' older generation Brazilian gay. Friendly to the extreme and charming I'm sure in his (her) bahia lady fru fru big-skirted frock one night and modest sherpa outfit, lipstick and bangles the next. Black, gay solidarity in the streets.
Lingering late, busy buffet breakfasts of fruit juice, fruit (melon, papaya, pineapple, banana), sausages, eggs, bread, cakes and coffee with a little room left for chat about the carnival happenings.
Tight legs from an excess of dancing and street pacing - total work out.
Bright sun and gleaming blue sea - simply.
Wonderful colonial architecture of azulejos, baroque gold-encrusted churches and bustling, narrow cobbled streets.
Capoeira on every available pra¨a or beach stretch. A show of prowess, rhythm and flexing, rippling chests!
No escape from dread-locks, hair plaits and plaiting offers on every street corner.
The stomach-churning Elevador - landmark of my `barrio`. Modern Victorian architecture with night lighting changes, lots of glass and light in the day and, best of all, free at carnival!
Kind of upturned egg-cup massive modern sculpture in the Cidade Baixa softened further by fresh fountain sprays.
Thousands of proud, black Filhos de Ghandi (famous Salvador bloc) in crisp, white robes with blue detailing, 'marking their territory' with perfume spray. Budda muscle-man arm grip; his arm way bigger than my calf!
Dehydration effect after full-paced african dance class with lovely, lively local children onlookers.
Wiggly bottom, quick footed samba dancing alongside drunken slobbering.
Feminine creativity transforming straight-forward bloc T-shirts into sexy wonders of style and sophistication.
Older foreign women with their handsome, tactile bahian 'enamorados'.
Brazilian machismo; the need to 'protect' lone women.
Fast-paced, cling-on-for-your-life omnibuses and taxis ('tax!').
So many encounters with so many people in this land of open and approachable-ness.
Long waits at Hotel Palace reception; finger-tapping, mellow bahian pace.
A scampering crab, scurrying into the waves. Palm tree, white sand, picture post-card Guarajuba beach.
Quiet, calm, graceful sea turtles with stubby, meaty paddles at Praia do Forte TAMAR Reserve.
Fairy-tale sky-scraper beach strip and cosy old city embraced by soft, curvy mountains, tropical sea, forests and flora.
Churches flaunting local gold and tropical dark woods illuminated by rays of dusted light falling through cracks and stain-glassed windows.
Many-coloured and textured minerals from Brazil's mines made into creations of simple or complex beauty.
The stillness of the sedate but cosy Petr—polis after the storm of Rio! The clink, clink of the horses' hooves on cobbles. The vibrancy of the flowers in bloom; purple, magenta, white and pink.
Fine European antiques at the tranquille Imperial Museum in Petr—polis; Italian, French, Belgian, British. The soft 'pad pad' of visitors' slippered feet.
Wide, lush palm-fringed avenues and lots of (fairly ordered) traffic (stopping at red lights!).
Busy, rush-hour cycle and running lanes along Copacabana and Ipanema beaches. The keep-fit culture for the beautiful Rio people of times past and present.
Views, stunning views, from every angle and height.
Sticky humidity along the streets in the centre; what relief to return to a refreshing Copacabana breeze.
Brightonesque regency-style Copacabana Hotel along the sea-front.
Litter and sand being carried by strong winds one early evening across the infinitely and impressively wide and flat Copacabana beach.
Many volleyball and football games being played simultaneously along its stretch, and the 'tock, tock' of beach tennis breaking up the smooth lull of waves.
The Sui¨a Cafˇ - tempting the taste-buds with wonderful sticky Danish and French-style cakes.
High-heeled, stylishly-dressed women of all ages in light feminine clothing.
Delicious, healthy food of all manner of vegetables, fruits (tropical guava etc), pastas, feijoadas, potatoes, soups and salads in a cool air conditionned SESC dining room. A chance to cool and dry off and eat well. SESC is where I stayed and where I could have gone to the theatre and library also (it«s a social business including hotels, education services etc).
Rio; a heady concoction.