Rio, Carnivale & Questionable Life Knowledge

So, after some persistent but polite nudging from Mum about posting more of my holiday photos (honestly, having her here over Christmas and New Year was both lovely and… a lot), I’ve decided to start a tiny little blog.

Somewhere I can share what I’m up to, document trips, and — let’s be honest — mildly vent.

I don’t really have a plan for it. No structure, no schedule, no idea if I’ll still be doing this in a month. But it feels like one of those things I’ll either love or completely forget about — and I’d quite like to find out which.

Josh, if you’ve found this: I do love you, but you can be QUITE the pain at times. Balance.

Right, let’s get into it.

I’ve chucked in a few Prague photos from when the family was here at Christmas (Jess — these are for you x), but Brazil and Carnivale? Whole different level.

A Very Lucky Setup

We’ve been ridiculously lucky with this trip. Kurt and Dani’s old Kiwi housemate Sam moved to Rio a few years ago, met a Brazilian girl, decided to stay (fair), and somehow we’ve ended up with the use of their downtown apartment for two weeks during Carnivale.

Peak dreamy.

It’s one of those setups where you almost feel like you’ve cheated the system a bit — like we’re getting the “local experience” without actually having to figure anything out ourselves. Which, frankly, suits me perfectly.

Sam had already lined up a rough plan for us, pointed out where to go (and where absolutely not to go), and generally acted like our unofficial Rio guide. We literally couldn't have timed it better.

Getting There: Dreamliner Thoughts

First things first — the Dreamliner.

Genuinely, what have the rest of the planes been doing all this time?

You get on and immediately start questioning everything:

• Where has this extra space come from?

• Why are tintable windows not standard everywhere?

• Why is it so quiet I can hear my boyfriend breathing next to me?

  
  

There’s also always that moment in long-haul travel where you convince yourself you’re going to be productive — read a book, drink water, be one of those composed airport girls — and then immediately spiral into snacks, films, and complete time confusion.

At one point I genuinely had no idea what day it was or how long we’d been travelling. Just vibes and mild dehydration.

Arrival: Slightly Sketch, Still Exciting

Arriving into Rio was… a bit sketch, if I’m honest.

Driving down the motorway at speed, with vendors just standing in traffic selling everything from fresh produce to wide-brim hats like it’s completely normal — meanwhile I’m gripping my bag like something’s about to happen.

Taxi driver, though? The man was thriving.

He was absolutely buzzing about Carnivale, telling us how busy the Sambadrome will be, how the city comes alive — honestly, he sold it.

We met Sam at his apartment — a cute little place with an insane view up towards one of the favelas. We didn’t go into one (I enjoy being alive), but seeing them layered up the hills like that is wild. It’s one of those views that doesn’t quite feel real — like you’re looking at a photo rather than an actual place.

We did a quick bag drop, quick reset, and then headed straight out for drinks because apparently we don’t believe in easing into anything.

Carnivale: No Rules, Just Go

So Carnivale isn’t just one event — it’s basically the entire city deciding to abandon structure.

Sam explained blocos — these are street parties that are:

• loosely organised,

• sometimes spontaneous,

• always chaotic.

  
  

At one point, we were sitting at a pizza restaurant on the corner of an intersection when a van literally just pulled up at a set of lights, blasted music, and started a party. No concern for traffic. No warning.

Just vibes.

If you’re stuck in the traffic? You’re not moving. You may as well get out and join.

Which is exactly what people do.

We spent the next few days fully getting amongst it — blocos, street drinks (people brew at home and then sell it dirt cheap to fellow revellers), dancing, somehow not losing each other.

The energy is hard to explain unless you’ve been there. It’s loud, messy, sweaty, and completely unfiltered. No one’s checking themselves, no one’s overthinking anything — you just exist in it.

At one point I was dancing next to someone in full glitter, someone else in a full costume, and a group of people playing drums like their lives depended on it.

We also experienced a proper Brazilian family BBQ with Sam’s girlfriend’s family, which was the complete opposite energy — wholesome, welcoming, and slightly surreal in the middle of all the chaos.  Food, drinks, people talking over each other. 

Me smiling along and nodding, pretending I understood more Portuguese than I did (i.e. none).

Fab.

Beach Life: Highlights & Traumas

Copacabana and Ipanema are exactly what you imagine.

Volleyball everywhere, beach football, people who look like they’ve never had a carb in their lives, and vendors bringing over ice-cold Coronas and sun hats like you’re on some kind of moving retail runway.

You don’t even really have to move — everything comes to you.

We’d spend hours there without realising how much time had passed. Swimming, tanning, chatting, people-watching. It’s the kind of place where the day just disappears.

However.

At one point, I’m in the water at Copacabana and a full clump of human hair floats past me.

Not a strand. A clump.

I actually froze. Mentally and physically.

I am choosing to believe it was a Carnivale wig.

But I know it probably wasn’t.

Rio’s sewage system basically flows into the harbour, and when it rains too much it all ends up… in the water. Which is your cue to stay out of the ocean.

Useful information to learn mid-swim.

Christ the Redeemer & Me Being Incorrect

We took the bus up to Christ the Redeemer (you can also walk, take a funicular, or — bizarrely — an escalator).

The statue is incredible. Properly worth it.

What’s less impressive is my general knowledge.

I confidently told Kurt it was built about 200 years ago.

Turns out it was built between 1922–1931.

While defending that point, I was also informed that Picasso died in the 1970s, not the 1700s like I was absolutely certain of.

Honestly, I don’t know how I’ve made it this far.

The views though? Unreal. The whole city is laid out in front of you — the ocean, mountains, and absolute chaos all in one place.

I have also have a slight concern about the Olympics — apparently loads of the water that the athletes will be competing in is incredibly polluted, and the locals just… know not to swim there.

Ummmm. O-kaaaay...

Búzios: Beach Town & Bad Decisions

After a week in Rio, Dani, Josh and I headed up to Búzios — Kurt had to fly back to NZ (tragic for him, excellent for his sleep schedule).

Búzios is stunning. Proper beach town energy, apparently where wealthy Brazilians go for summer — very Coromandel vibes but with better cocktails.

It also feels significantly calmer than Rio — like the exhale after all the Carnivale chaos.

To get around, everyone also rents these little beach buggies, which makes everything feel like a holiday montage.

Highlights included:

• a very cute third-wheel Valentine’s dinner,

• a glass-bottom boat trip (I saw fish, job done),

• an insane downpour where I had to get piggybacked back to the hotel by Josh because the puddles were ridiculous,

• and naturally, 1am skinny dipping in the hotel pool.

  
  

The rainstorm deserves its own mention — it came out of nowhere. One minute sunshine, next minute full chaos. Streets flooding, everyone running, and me laughing like I’d completely lost the plot.

Final night? Slight chaos.

We met a group of drunk American boys, got invited back to their absolutely unreal Airbnb villa on the water… which felt very glamorous until certain substances appeared on the table in quantities that suggested it was time to leave.

There’s always that moment where your brain quietly goes: we should go.

So we did.

5am Irish exit. No regrets.

Final Days: Cutting It Fine

We wrapped things up with a final 48-hour buzz around Rio — ticking off a few last sights before heading back to London.

Everything felt slightly rushed but in a good way — like we were trying to squeeze every last bit out of the trip before it ended.  Although we nearly missed our flight after getting stuck in traffic and arriving at the airport with 25 minutes to spare.

There's nothing like a full sprint through departures to round off a holiday.

We made it though. Just.

Final Thoughts

Honestly, I loved Rio.

The people are lovely, super friendly, the food is amazing (fresh sushi especially — London sushi is still not convincing me despite Josh insisting otherwise), and Carnivale is something else entirely.

It’s chaotic, messy, unpredictable — but in the best way.

Add in a few slower days in Búzios and it’s the perfect mix of chaos and actual relaxation.

And I think that’s what made it — not just one type of trip, but a bit of everything.

So — first blog down.

Let’s see if I can keep this up.

Gem x