Journaled on Saturday, 17th of May 2025 | Santo Cristo, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil: 26 degrees, hot, sunny and blue skies.
Yasmin is staying with me, and she had to be up early today for an extra class to prepare for ENEM, the Brazilian national vestibular exam.
The class started at 8:30. She asked me to wake her at 7, which I did, and she made herself a breakfast of the fruit she had bought the day before.
Taking the bus in Rio can be dangerous, especially for a young, beautiful teenage girl. Part of me didn’t want her to do it, but she would have to eventually. If I had thought it was really that dangerous, I obviously wouldn’t have let her.
The 109 bus line, whose first or last stop, depending on how you look at it, is on a side street two minutes’ walk from the condominium, goes straight to the street where Yasmin’s school is in less than 10 minutes. The VLT tram and metro would take at least 40 or 50.
It is the only line left in Rio that takes this route, cutting through the Santa Barbara tunnel and along the viaduct beside the Sambódromo, where the samba schools parade during carnival. Before COVID there were many more, but the council has since cut them, which is a pity, because it was one of the fastest ways to cross between the south and north zones by public transport.
I have never really liked Rio’s metro. Besides being limited, it feels like a waste to travel underground in a city this beautiful, missing everything between one place and the next.
The internet said a bus supposedly leaves every half hour. We got to the stop at 7:45 and there was no bus, but in less than a minute one drew up.
We said our goodbyes, and I kissed her on the forehead like I always do. She got on, paid, and after about 10 minutes, the bus was off.
I was a little worried about her first time alone on a public bus in Rio, but also confident nothing would happen. The bus was empty when it left, and early on a Saturday it was unlikely many people would get on. Fewer passengers meant less chance of someone badly intentioned boarding. I had also told her to sit at the front, near the driver, so she could call him if there was a problem.
All this might sound over the top to Europeans or Americans, but here in Brazil, and especially in Rio, no precaution is too much when it comes to crackheads, thieves, chicken thieves and anyone else getting on a bus with the intention of hurting others.
Twenty minutes later, Yasmin messaged to say she had arrived at school. Her first ride on a public bus in Rio went better than expected.
Back at the flat, I put my swimming trunks on under my shorts and went downstairs with my little black pump bag. I skipped and did some exercises for about 40 minutes, then swam 30 lengths in the pool.
Afterwards I prepared and uploaded a video, showered and changed, because I was heading to Saara. I had promised to meet Yasmin there after her class, and I needed to buy sunflower and basil seeds for Dona Vera in Copacabana, as I had promised her too.
Saara is a network of streets in the old part of Rio’s city centre, packed with popular shops and trade stores selling almost anything you could want. It is a bit like a street version of a poor man’s Harrods, where you can buy at trade or very low retail prices.
I met Yasmin on Rua Buenos Aires, one of Saara’s main shopping streets. We found some seeds, though not the quantity I wanted.
We also went to Caçula, a well-known Rio shop specialising in stationery and handicraft supplies. For the last month or two, Yasmin has taken up crochet. She taught herself, made a pair of shorts, and now wants more thread, or whatever it is called, to make a bikini.
The shop is enormous, at least three floors, and whenever we go, Yasmin loses herself in the endless possibilities. It really is a handicraft lover’s paradise. She found what she wanted, I paid, of course, and we left.
It was about 2 p.m. and I was thinking about lunch. Right outside, we passed a per-kilo restaurant, had a look at the buffet, and it seemed OK, so we ate there.
After lunch we walked on through the enormous open-air pedestrian shopping area to the VLT station. It was full of people waiting, but the tram soon arrived. We got off near the supermarket in Santo Cristo, bought some food for later, and went home.
In the evening we played chess, best of three. Surprisingly, for the first time in a long time, I won the first two, so it was game over for my daughter. We watched a film, and I was too tired for anything else. Every time I go to Saara, it literally kills me.
Be kind and be happy. If you cannot be happy, still be kind, but never be naïve.
In bed by 10 p.m.
Thank you
Thank you for reading. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments.
Richard
