Brazil Day One: Mistakes At Duty Free
When we finally arrive in Rio de Janeiro I disembark the plane and my newfound friend and mentor, Steve, makes the executive decision to go to duty-free (again), where I am coerced into purchasing two more bottles of Jameson and a six-pack of Red Bull (thanks a lot, Steve). After retrieving our bags we experience no issues passing through customs (which is good because I am illegally importing a ton of stuff to sell).
According to my sources inside Brazil, a taxi ride from the airport is to cost around R$50; this is a lie. One of many I would come to know. Hotel Vermont in Ipanema (which I later heard is a popular gay hookup hotel) is my destination, and upon my arrival, I manage to crash in my bed for an hour before I am required to meet a bunch of strangers for dinner.
After said dinner with my fellow foreigners in an American themed restaurant (how appropriate) serving food in a very Brazilian fashion (by the kilo – still not sure if this is a good deal or not), I make my way down onto the beach and into the warmest ocean I have ever been in for an amazing night of moonlight swimming (something that is very much not recommended by the locals – or at least one drunk guy on the beach).
The events to transpire over the course of the course of the next 24 hours are unspeakable (read: not remembered), but if they are any indication of what life in Brazil is going to be like, then I know I have come to the right place (note to self: need more Jameson and Red Bull).
