Month: April 2025

PC 436 Where’s the Girl from Ipanema? (Continued)

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On this visit we rented an AirBnB in the Lanai Condominio, around the corner from an apartment owned by Celina’s bother, in Barra da Tijuca. The suburb lies to the west of Ipanema and Barra’s beach, just across the road, is even better than Ipanema’s; the girls probably are the same. 

I’ve written about this long stretch of sand before, collecting thoughts in PC 08 ‘Beach Life in Brazil’, which has a short postscript concerning dental floss. (See PS) On another visit in September 2014, almost eleven years ago, I wrote PC 21, questioning happenings in the world; I think the first two paragraphs are worth repeating:

“We walked along the line of the surf of the crowded beach on a Sunday in September in Barra da Tijuca; the sun was warm on our backs. I looked at the carefree groups of families and friends, at children playing either in the surf or with a football, this is Brazil after all (!), and at other adults, just splashing in the shallows. It was totally divorced from the obscene photograph of a black figure brandishing a knife in front of a kneeling, orange-suited human that had appeared on the front page of my digital Times that morning.

I had looked at the photo of the latest British hostage, a 44-year-old man with a family, with friends, with loved ones. It was so surreal. I knew from the news report that, moments after the photo had been, he would be murdered, in cold blood, in the most barbaric and inhuman way.”

‘Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.’ Then it was ISIS, trying to bring about a C7th Caliphate in the Middle East; today for example it’s the slaughter in Ukraine. A poem by Robert Burns in 1786 included the line – ‘man’s inhumanity to man’; we don’t learn, and some of those who profess to lead don’t care.

I am no ornithologist but am mesmerised by one particular bird that populates the Brazilian coast; it looks almost prehistoric, like a pterodactyl perhaps.

With the aid of Google I learned it’s called a Frigate bird. They are apparently found across all the tropical and subtropical oceans. Characterised by black plumage, deeply forked tails and long hooked bills, there are five extant species. Wonderful!

Currently the temperature of the sea at Barra is fine but, surprisingly as the littoral current moves in a southerly direction from the equator, it can be very cold. Additionally, the underwater profiles of the seabed mean it’s not a particularly safe beach. Undercurrents, fierce draw-backs and constant breaking waves mean those wanting a dip do just that, have a dip. The only swimming going on is by those on surf or bodyboards, making their way beyond the breakers. Every 400m or so is a manned lifeguard station and if someone thinks it’s safe further out, the warning whistles start and they are encouraged to come back to the shore.

It’s always interesting going to other countries and engaging with those people who live there on a permanent basis. The moans I hear today in Rio are an echo of those I hear in Hove; distrust in politicians, the cost of living, the energy/climate crisis, streets unsafe at night and more frequently in some areas during the day, the pervasiveness of social media, the lack of acceptance of opposing views, the lack of common sense etc etc. The locals complain of the traffic, especially at rush hour along the coast road that leads from Barra da Tijuca, past São Conrado and into Lebon and Ipanema. I remind them that in the UK the normal commute is at least 90 minutes.

The southeast corner of the UK is fairly prosperous; relative poverty rarer here that further north. In Brazil poverty is never far from the surface, that and the insidious drugs, their peddling and their use. Surprisingly the city administration clears the streets of those with nowhere to live, ensuring they get shelter and food. (Note 1) The rich here would hope that Rio de Janeiro remains globally famous for its Christ the Redeemer statue, Sugar Loaf Mountain, carnival and its beaches, and maybe for the girl walking along Ipanema beach. But in the last thirty years its favelas have been making the news; some are more famous than others, some more dangerous than others, and the nearest one to Celina’s mother’s house is Rocinha.

Rochinha houses cling to the mountainside in all directions

Times change and its residents have benefitted from the provision of a new tube line and station in 2016, part of the Olympic infrastructure, and lately by a Tourist Office opening within the favela. This is creating more money for the inhabitants, which can only be a good thing.

We had little rain during our visit and what we had was tropical.

Downpour at 0300!

Our AirBnB had air conditioning, essential if you want a good night’s sleep, but the pouring of water onto the external metal box made such an horrendous noise that sleep was impossible. Being a practical sort of chap, I wondered why no one had glued a thick piece of insulation material or rubber matting to its top. Think it would have worked! Of course, electricity failures are common here and then there is no air conditioning! And if you didn’t, read ‘PC 145 Extreme Weather’ from February 2019 about the floods in Rio de Janeiro.

So that girl, that ‘tall and tanned and young and lovely’ woman from the 1960s, is no longer visible. There seemed something innocent about her and I don’t think that’s true of the woman on Ipanema beach today!

Back in Hove, we miss the warmth, we miss the constant noise, we miss the friendly carefree Brazilian people; I don’t miss the mosquitoes!

Richard 25th April 2025

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PS For those of you who might like to read more of my Brazilian scribbles, look at: PC 01 Bahia, PCs 3&4 Rio de Janeiro, PC 5 São Paulo & Cananeia, PC 6 Petropolis, PC 8 Brazilian beach life and PS PC 09, PC 10 Paraty, PC 11 Reflections on São Conrado, PCs 17 & 20 The Pantanal, PC 34 Recife, PC 37 A Small Town in Brazil, PC 51 Foz, PC 63 Santa Catarina and PC 91 Japanese São Paulo.

Note 1 Pricilla Goslin, author of ‘How to be a Carioca’, told me that some streets in Seattle, near her Portland, Oregon home, are a permanent ‘tent city. Echoes of San Francisco perhaps?

PC 435 Where’s the Girl from Ipanema?

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In June 2023 I wrote a postcard entitled Serendipity (PC 340), initially prompted by the obituary of Astrud Gilberto, the young woman who serendipitously was asked to sing the English version of ‘Da Garota de Ipanema’ (The Girl from Ipanema). The wonderful opening lines will be familiar to many: “Tall and tanned and young and lovely/the girl from Ipanema goes walking/and when she passes, each one she passes goes, ‘ahhh’.” (Note 1)

Heloisa Pinheiro Born 7th July 1943

In 2025, over 60 years later, is the modern-day equivalent of Heloisa Pinheiro still visible, walking along the promenade of one of Rio de Janeiro’s iconic beaches? I sense the 1960s were a more tranquil, more relaxed era, no more so than along Ipanema’s beach.

Today there’s a constant effort to get fit, be seen, wear the right gear and hundreds of people are in constant motion on Ipanema’s beach; not many seem to have the time to sit and stare at others. We were lucky enough to stay two nights in the Fasano Hotel, situated just before the little promontories of Pedra do Arpoador and Forte de Copacabana that separate Ipanema and Copacabana beaches.

Pedra do Arpoador

From the rooftop swimming pool there’s a good view west down the road ……

and, at the far end, the favela of Vidigal cheek-by-jowl with the Sheraton Grand Rio Hotel & Resort and both overshadowed by the two peaks known as Dois Irmãos. We arrived in the rain on a Sunday afternoon and those two mountains seemed extremely mysterious.

On our second morning rather than walk along the sand as we had the first day, we walked on the promenade the length of both Ipanema and Leblon beaches, about 5kms. Maybe I could identify a modern ‘girl from Ipanema’? No one seems as carefree as Heloisa Pinheiro must have seemed; a little too much filler in the lips, eyelashes so long they could be used as a paintbrush, small or large tattoos in abundance, the smallest bikini bottoms requiring Brazilian waxing, and possibly stopping every few moments to take a Selfie! (Note 2) Towards the end of the pavement, with its characteristic black & white swirling patterns, suddenly someone yells: ‘Celina!’; I turn around and there’s a friend we hadn’t seen since 2019, Alessandra, getting fit on the beach. She doesn’t speak English so I left her to catch up with Celina and walked to the end, reengaging with Celina on the way back. Six years – in the same time, in the same place – a lovely coincidence!

There was a wonderful observation from Letitia, one of the delightful managers in the Fasano Hotel. The hotel was hosting a book launch on our second night. Assouline Publishing, founded in 1994 in New York, has published over 1700 titles on subjects including architecture, art, design, fashion, gastronomy, photography and travel. In amongst these coffee table book titles are, for instance, ‘Napoli Amore’, ‘Bangkok Spirit’ and ‘Paris Paris’. The book for the launch was obviously about Rio de Janeiro (Note 3), by Bruno Astuto. 

Letitia told us the book costs about R$ 1300 per copy (£170) and ‘that is about the same as Brazil’s minimum wage’! Maybe small change for those who can afford to stay at the Fasano and who might say: ‘Cost of living crisis? What crisis?’ but a good example of the gulf between rich and poor.

Since my first visit to Brazil in April 2012, the Brazilian Real has gone from R$3.2 to the pound to R$7.5. This is great for tourists from Europe like me, but not for instance for Celina’s cousin Bel Gasparian, whose recent week in Florence cost her an arm, a leg, and the bag off her back!

On the subject of finance, here in Brazil, forget ‘contactless’, forget cash; everyone is using a system called Pix (Instant Payment Ecosystem). Created and managed by the Banco Central do Brazil, its aim is to reduce cash transactions and offers an alternative to existing payment instructions. It was fully operational in 2020; all you need is to have a Brazilian bank account. Here credit card transaction fees can reach up to 2.2%, whereas Pix charges retailers about 0.2% and is free to individuals. Naturally everyone is using it, the hotels and restaurants, supermarkets and our taxi drivers, even the street artist making a meagre living selling souvenirs or the chap on the beach offering chairs and a sun umbrella to rent. It aims to achieve the transaction in under 10 seconds, although there is an individual payment limit of R$1000 between 2000 and 0600. (Note 4)

I suspect that most decent human beings are sadden by the way in which the new president of the United States goes about dealing with people. The bullying, the threatening manner; “Do as I say or else …. I’ll throw your toys out of my pram.” But we encountered a couple of instances where international hotel guests completely disregarded anyone but themselves, with no ‘Thank you’, no ‘excuse me!’, certainly no ‘please’. I imagine they hadn’t read ‘manners maketh man.’

To be continued …….

Richard 18 April 2025

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 The rhythm of Brazil is of course Samba. Sadly today you’re more likely to hear some repetitive techno stuff.

Note 2 These days filler in one’s buttocks (The Brazilian Lift) is popular globally among some, but I don’t think it’s something the Brazilians want to be associated with.

Note 3 R is pronounced H in Brazilian Portuguese. On one visit there was an advertisement for a rock concert called ‘Rock in Rio’ …. Pronounced ‘Hockinghio’!

Note 4 In England the use of contactless cards is widespread, but the retailer pays a percentage for every transaction. On my way back from hot yoga I often buy a drink from Hanan who runs a 7/11. The bottle cost £1.85; I pay cash. Recently it went up to £2 as he makes a loss if the customer pays by contactless; I pay cash and he charges me £1.85.

PC 434 Sods and Odds (continued backwards)

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My regular readers will have seen my postcards about young men, PCs 352 (About Men) and 354 (More About Men), reflecting on Caitlin Moran’s most recent book ‘What About Men’. These are hugely important issues, the development of teenagers into fully functioning adults; I have three grandsons so have an acute interest in what has influenced them already and what might in the near future. Those scribbles were eighteen months ago and today the subject has become a hot topic, in the aftermath of the first screening of the Netflix film Adolescence. The overview states: “A family’s world is turned upside down when 13-year-old Jamie Miller is arrested for murdering a schoolmate. The charges against their son force them to confront every parent’s worst nightmare.” It stars Owen Cooper as Jamie Miller, Stephen Graham as his father Eddie, Christine Tremarco as his mother Manda and Amélie Pease as his sister Lisa.

We watched all four episodes on Netflix here in Barra da Tijuca, although both Celina and I struggled with Tremarco’s strong Liverpudlian accent, often unable to understand what she had said. I am familiar with the issues that form the core of the drama; social media obsession, uncertainty about male/female relationships, influencers like Andrew Tate, parental abrogation of their crucial role in the development of their children, to name but a few. Of these ‘influencers’, Sir Gareth Southgate, the former football manager of England, has this to say: “There is a lack of role models and father figures at home and into this void step the callous, manipulative and toxic influencers. They trick young men into believing that success is measured by money or dominance, never to show emotion, and that the world and women are against them.”

The old model of an ideal family consisted of two parents and two children – the ‘nuclear’ family. Recent statistics highlight one of today’s problems; in the group classed as ‘long term unemployed’, 60% of the households with children are headed by a single mother. The centre for Social Justice says: ‘boys are now far more likely to have a smartphone in their pocket than a father at home.’

Today we sadly read a lot about Andrew Tait; writing his name makes me grimace, such is the revulsion I feel for this individual. I read somewhere that back in 2019 there was another ‘Andrew Tait’, a ‘Canadian professor, called Jordan Peterson, who was capturing the attention of young men and boys. A generation of young men who were desperate for structure and guidance read his books or watched his You Tube lectures. Research carried out in May of 2020 by the anti-extremist charity ‘Hope not Hate’ found that two in five young British men had read, watched or listened to something by Peterson.’

Beyond the basics of personal responsibility, Peterson’s message about women’s place in society was an extreme one, particularly dangerous to underdeveloped minds. He clearly had a misogynistic view of women, even suggesting that feminists had an ‘unconscious wish for brutal male domination’. Nice huh? Well, he would think that, given he also claimed that women wearing make-up to the office was “sexually provocative”. His audience soaked up the bullshit like a sponge does liquid.

Before some more scribbles about the male/female interface, a little light relief. Sometimes on my FaceBook account a poem pops up, like this one, familiar from way back. Written by Leo Marks in 1943 in memory of his girlfriend who had just been killed in a plane crash in Canada, it was used as a ‘code poem’ in the Second World War:

“The Life that I have, is all that I have, and the life that I have is yours.

The love that I have, of the life that, I have is yours and yours and yours

A sleep I shall have, a rest I shall have, yet death will be but a pause

For the peace of my years, in the long green grass, will be yours and yours and yours.”

In the middle of March The Times published an obituary of Alison Halford, the first policewoman to be appointed an Assistant Chief Constable, in her case to Liverpool Constabulary in 1983. Seven years later, at the Employment Tribunal into her sacking, her evidence ‘lifted the lid on Merseyside police’s canteen culture of hard drinking, strong language and cut-throat promotion politics’. “There appears to be a strong but covert resentment or mistrust of the competence of a woman who can get to the heart of a problem, shows creativity and innovation and manages to acquire a reputation for getting things done.”

From the standpoint of 2025 it was a fascinating exposé of the misogynistic and laddish culture found in England’s police forces in the 1960s and 1970s; I suspect Merseyside was typical. It was sad reading but what really shocked me was Alison Halford’s recollection of the initial interview process when she applied to join the force. Apparently after ‘eye, hearing and intelligence tests, the female rookies were paraded in front of senior officers and ordered to remove their upper clothing, including their bras, and answer questions.’ If it is true, as it sounds so outrageous it questions whether it was made-up to colour her autobiography, ‘No Way Up The Greasy Pole’ (1993), how no one suggested this was appalling speaks volumes about that organisation at that time. Thank God we have grown up …. a little!

During my career as an executive leadership coach one of my client organisations was Surrey Constabulary, headquartered in Guildford; today it has over 2000 police officers. I WhatsApp’d Mark, a senior officer I had worked with 1999-2000, what he thought of Alison Halford. 

          “Halford was actually the first of many senior officers of both sexes in the 1980s, who thankfully became whistleblowers on everything from the taking of bribes, turning a blind eye or stopping cases to drink driving. The 1990s were probably some of the best years for the British police service and I was so fortunate to experience them. She made a huge difference and started a much-needed positive change. I never met her but hope that I was one of the huge number of cops who admired her, carrying forward what she started – fairness, the search for the truth and serving the public with integrity and honesty. God rest her soul. Take care my friend. Mark”


Enough said!

Richard 12th April 2025

Barra da Tijuca, Brazil

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PS Two days ago a French parliamentary commission found sexual violence and harassment towards girls and women endemic in their entertainment sector, suggesting ‘collective denial’.

PC 433 Odds and Sods

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It’s appropriate to start off this postcard with something about language, as I sit at a table in an AirBnB in Barra da Tijuca, to the west of Rio de Janeiro’s famous beaches of Ipanema and Copacabana. My ability to speak Portuguese, and in particular Brazilian Portuguese, has not got any better over the years since Celina and I got together, despite periodic attempts to get to grips with it. I started with no knowledge and sometimes I sense I have come back to that point!

Consequently, I need to be careful when I write about Celina’s way of pronouncing certain words. The name of the Russian president comes up occasionally, often accompanied by some criticism or other of his cruel actions and disregard for what we in the west consider sacrosanct, like the borders of sovereign states. I commented that I loved the way she says his name, sounds like ‘putain’, a hard nasal sound. Then she explained that ‘putain’ is French for whore/bitch/shit/hooker/tart and I think this is perfect.

These days, if you are bored by your record or CD collection, you can just dial up something like Spotify and ask it to play exactly what you want to listen to. Or you can tune into one of the hundreds of radio stations, via Alexa, and podcasts, to listen to chat or music. Of course the sound of silence can, in itself, be wonderful. Over the years I have become accustomed to have Classic FM on in the background. Often I recognise the work being played, reinforcing my own prejudices about composers; ‘I love Sibelius, not so keen on Bach’ for example. The station’s output seems to cover anything from traditional ‘classical music’ to music used in film or television scores. Snobs in the world of classical music might deride Classic FM for its populist approach to what it broadcasts, but I guess that’s what the programme makers deem their audience want and tune in for. However, as a regular listener, I sometimes detect that every presenter has been encouraged to play one particular piece. A recent example is the title track from the 2004 film ‘Ladies in Lavender’, a 2004 film starring Judi Dench and Maggie Smith. It was composed by Nigel Hess, but I do not want to hear it today, tomorrow and the next! Another piece now played so frequently it’s become hackneyed is ‘Ashokan Farewell’. I grant you it’s lovely but once a month will do!

Writing about snobbery in the world of classical music brings me neatly on to the Scottish painter Jack Vettriano who died at the beginning of March aged 73. His name might not be on the tip of everyone’s tongue, but his painting entitled ‘The Singing Butler’ will, I hope, be instantly recognisable.

He was one of Britain’s most successful painters, earning a reported £500,000 in annual royalties from reproductions of his work on postcards, posters, calendars and jigsaw puzzles. Self-taught, Jack’s breakthrough came in 1993 when he was taken up by London’s Portland Gallery; “There’s a narrative (in his paintings) which invites you to continue the story. They’re a moment caught in time and you continue the story in your head.” Sir Terence Conran was slightly harsher: “I would never suggest Jack is a great artist in the manner of Francis Bacon and I don’t think he would claim to be. But he is an extremely competent artist in the Edward Hopper mould.” Most critics derided his art as ‘kitsch and derivative.’ (Note 1)

I hadn’t intended this part of the postcard to develop into a dissertation on what makes one artist greater than another, for in my mind only you can make these judgements. Personally, I love Edward Hopper’s paintings for their simplicity ….

Edward Hopper’s The Lighthouse

and can’t think of any reason to go to an exhibition of Francis Bacon’s work …..

Bacon – a self portrait

But then I am me and not you, or Terence Conran!

In my postcard about Gen Z (PC 425 Generation Z February 2025), I wrote how good it was to find people who recognised you could have fun without alcohol and that their attitude towards drinking and drinking to excess was refreshing. One of our major supermarket chains, Sainsbury’s, is now offering a non-alcoholic beer with one of its lunch ‘meal deals’. For some reason best known to themselves Debretts, the national guide to etiquette, were provoked to comment. Liz Wyse, one of their editors, wrote: “I don’t think it really appropriate. I know it’s alcohol free but people drinking alcohol-free generally would rather drink a normal beer.” (My italics) Now that is a statement based on a sample of, er, one? Herself?

Diane Cherryman from Melton Mowbray was so moved to write to The Times. “Sir, (Note 2) Debrett’s should set aside its prejudices and read the small print on labels before condemning a lunchtime drink of alcohol-free beer.” And went on to say it’s a far healthier choice than fizzy drinks.

And finally, something to cogitate on. I took out a life insurance policy with Standard Life a day before my 21st birthday; seemed a grown-up and sensible thing to do. It would pay out some £2314 if I accidentally died; for comparative purposes I was being paid circa £1750 per year (Note 3) and the annual premium was £24. As the years rolled by, I recognise that these £2 per month Direct Debits were not a lot, and it would help my beneficiaries a little. The annual statement arrived last month – I could cash in my Life Insurance and have £1714 in my sticky little hand today and not leave it for others. I have paid Standard Life £1392 over the years – so a gain of £322! My brother did a simple ‘£24 at 3% compound interest over 57 years’ calculation and found it amounted to almost £4000. If I had known then what I know now ……..

Richard 4th April 2025

Rio de Janeiro

http://www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 Make sense of this: “His art is frightening …. his work shows the extent to which even art has been compromised by the argument that the market is the most powerful thing.” Duncan MacMillan

Note 2 I wonder whether this salutation has had its day. Today it could easily be Editor which could apply to someone of any gender.

Note 3 Rule of thumb suggests 150% of salary. Wishful thinking!