Surfing in Rio de Janeiro

It’s a humid morning in Rio, and still cool but with the promise of oppressive heat in the air. My fiance and I wander through the jungle-city streets with our surfboards, attracting only cursory glances from early morning risers and those who are yet to go home after a night of partying. We reach the bus stop and there are a few others standing around I can’t quite help feeling slightly awkward. It’s been years since, as a grommet with no drivers licence, I’d caught buses with my surfboard back in Sydney. But then the big orange surf bus comes thundering down the street with impressive punctuality for Brazil. The see us with the boards and stop. The door opens and the sounds of Bob Marley waft out into the Rio morning. The driver, looking not unlike Otto from the Simpsons, gives us a friendly “Oi” and waves us aboard.