Florianopolis, or Floripa for friends, is a true paradise, perhaps so perfect as to arouse some questions. I write on a rock by the side of a quiet and crystal clear ocean, almost sleepy, in front of my eyes a cream-colored beach, lots of green and some nice islets. Simply idyllic.
Too bad that I cannot take pictures, this will only be part of my memories and my stories.
Last night I attended the carnival in the city of Florianopolis, a wild mixture of all imaginable kinds of music and dances from samba carioca to maracatù pernambucano. It is not clear if the mix is really spontaneous or the classic tourist trick served to the many Argentines who spend their holidays here.
This is also why I feel more and more intense and inviting air of Argentina. Party tonight and then Porto Alegre, land of gauchos.
New Year’s Eve in Rio de Janeiro
New Year’s Eve in Rio, incredible and unforgettable: a collective frenzy, a mass of people never seen, located in a stunning setting, under the lights of the legendary beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema, in the background the Sugarloaf Mountain and the Corcovado and especially the colors, the flavors, the smells, the music, the samba and the smiles. Hours and hours dancing, moving, capturing people’s attitudes, breathing their tears and their joy, their irrepressible enthusiasm. And then the rituals of afro-christian syncretism, candomblé, capoeira and makulelé, yemanjá… a carousel, a vertigo, a brazil!
