Rio

Looking out the window of a descending aircraft, it’s immediately obvious that Rio de Janeiro is a city of six million people. High-rise hotels crowd the beaches, favelas claw up the steep hills, and the whole writhing mass spills across the bay and over the horizon, like a cellular slime mold that’s outgrown its petri dish.

You see a lot of people wearing the colors of the Flamengo football club (and a few wearing Botafogo colors, depending on the neighborhood). Everywhere in Brasil so far, we see a mix of races in any crowd (and within most of individuals), but in Rio the African contribution is more visible than it was in Brasilia.

Brasilia Again, Briefly

A short stay before an early morning flight. Visited a couple of parks in town, which were hot, dry, mostly empty of people, and had just enough litter to feel unclean. Still, a welcome chance for Henry to reconnect with friends, and for me to photograph the local wildlife.

Pirinopolis

A small town outside Brasilia, with three very similar churches (“the one with two palm trees or the one with one palm tree?”), a street of restaurants catering to weekenders from the city, and a selection of waterfalls nearby. Also nearby, some remarkably difficult dirt roads – we were glad we visited in the dry season, even though that meant some of the waterfalls were less powerful than usual.

Our temporary abode not only had five small falls on the property, it had a nest of blue-winged tanagers in the roof, and many other birds visiting every morning.