Originally posted on ****:
The taxi weaves through the crowds spilling out of the cafes and bars and onto the street, we take a right turn onto a cobbled street that slopes steeply upwards. As we slowly rattle our way up the buildings become more and more Portuguese and from the corner of my eye I can spot the colorful explosion that is the street art covered streets of Santa Teresa. On every wall a beautiful piece to be found, I can hardly take it in. I start to relax back into my seat, I smile and breathe out, my heart lifts, I am home. Not just at my hostel, but truly, truly home.
Nearly 3 weeks have passed here in Rio and in those 3 weeks I have well and truly fallen in love with this city. Perhaps strange given that the 3 weeks have been spent in 16 hour work days with not a single day off. But even through the fog of a failed UN summit, even through the sleepless nights and endless staring at a computer screen. Even through the emotional roller coaster of concluding 18 months hard slog work with one massive event. My soul has been happy in this city.