A Second Musical Interlude

Wednesday 21 March

Another beautiful morning – sunshine, pale blue skies and already hot by the time we made our way to breakfast. We spent the morning on the balcony, employed in our usual recreational pursuits, until there was no shade to escape the burning heat of the day – around 14.00. Time to find lunch and a beer. It was difficult to find anything snacky for lunch as, like a lot of the restaurants in town, the hotel seemed to cater for the larger Brazilian appetite that eats main meals both for lunch and dinner. We ended up sampling the spring rolls – crab for me and vegetable for Colin – he had tried the chicken version earlier in the week. They were very crispy and simple and filled the gap until dinner.

We relaxed in the lounge for a while looking at some piccys Juz had sent us of her house in its current “demolished” state. Returning to the balcony, we could see clouds assembling once more in the distance, although the sun was still shining on us. Slowly the grey blanket approached the coast, but it was not until around 18.00 that the first few raindrops fell. We had planned to visit the town again for dinner tonight, but wondered if our decision had been wise. We were eventually driven inside as the rain became heavier – nothing like the torrential downpours of the previous two evenings, but enough to make the pages of our books wet! I was so annoying when the temperature outside is still warm.

I ended up watching a film before dinner. By 20.00 there were just a few spots of rain in the air (they are so large that they make you start as they plop on your head), so we decided we would explore the town again. On our way out, Sebastien – our very helpful receptionist – informed us that we were being offered a free massage each in the spa, as an apology for the noise from the building works. He also recommended “Havana”, another of the restaurants we had seen on our initial exploration of the town, and he immediately phoned and made us a reservation. He promised us more music and good food.

We traversed the perilous hill safely – just – and again joined the parade to the hub of Buzios – although not so many people were yet in the throng as yesterday evening. We made our way to Havana’s – a little further down the street and on the other side to Don Juan’s – there was no way you can get lost in this buzzy community, as there was just two parallel streets, each no more than 500 metres long, with small interconnecting alleyways and side streets, distinctly enigmatic in the gloom of night. Supermarkets, banks, garages, etc were all situated at the far end of the streets, where the two join, well out of the way of the nightly partying.

At the restaurant, we chose to sit at a table on the first floor balcony, from where we could easily watch the entertainers perform later in the evening. We had been promised “bosanova” by the doorman and we could see the instruments set up on the small stage in one corner, below us. The whole place felt creamy – tables and chairs in light-coloured wicker, the plain painted walls – which probably looked a bit seedy in the harsh light of day - the pale wrought ironwork of the stairs and balcony - all adding to the intimate feel of the soft yellow candlelight. On the walls massive posters of Cuban life – cigars, flamenco, and fast cars, and a few large leafed plants dotted around – added splashes of colour. The far end of the restaurant, both on the ground floor and upstairs, faced out to the ocean, but there would have been no view of the band at these tables. The menu provided a really difficult choice of what food to eat – in the end we chose a basket of deep fried squid with a refreshing dip to share, followed by grilled chicken with a curry sauce for me – this was a West Indian style curry sauce, quite tangy but sweetish – and pasta with lots of Mediterranean vegetables for Colin. We had been given a free caipirinha each – the Brazlian cocktail that Colin has taken to in a big way – so continued the cocktail theme throughout the evening – my bloody marys were the sourest I have ever tasted – lots of lime I think – and very little Tabasco.

The entertainment started within half an hour of us arriving. Three young men – one playing electric organ, another the drums and the third an electric guitar – treated us to a range of intricate jazz melodies, all very enthusiastically performed – particularly by the organist, who hunched over his keyboard in deliberate concentration, his fingers constantly moving over the keys at a energetic rate. They played for half an hour or so before taking a break when the screens around the walls suddenly switched on and showed part of a Phil Collins concert – taking place on a huge round illuminated stage in the centre of an arena (a South American football stadium?) with musicians on all four sides. Phil Collins played drums from the raised platform in the centre, and then did his Max Wall walk impression round the edge of the dais as he sang some songs we recognized – in English. It was wonderfully atmospheric and fitted perfectly with the ambience of Havana’s. The band returned and played another selection of jazz before we left, soon after 23.00. There were still people arriving to eat, so we presumed that the group had at least one more session still to play. We had experienced another fabby evening, and understand why Buzios attracts so many people – magnificent views, scrumptious food and great entertainment.

As we wandered back, a few beads of rain began to fall, not enough to put up our borrowed umbrella, but sufficient that we walked straight back to the hotel. I was surprisingly tired tonight – perhaps too much mental exercise puzzling earlier in the day – and I didn’t even look at the headlines or see what film was showing. Sebastien had told us there had been a meeting today about the hours of work for the builders, and it seemed to have worked as there was no sound from the room next door as we went to sleep.
.