A few days ago in Diogo we were desperately searching for a hostel in Rio for this weekend. I probably could have booked that in May but somehow (through laziness) I didn’t. We found one hostel in beautiful Santa Teresa that wasn’t booked because it just opened on Thursday. It’s called Sante Hostel and it’s at the top of the highest hill. Our taxi driver was less than happy manoeuvring up dozens of steep, cobbled streets only to find half of them blocked off. He resorted to calling our hostel and we found our way eventually. Oliver was cringing, feeling guilty and I was stifling laughter.
Sante Hostel is a beautiful, very old house that belongs to Isabella’s family. The family still live on the top floor and Isabella and her brother run the other two floors as a hostel. Every detail has been thought through so thoroughly, the place is perfect. It’s nice that by chance we happened to find ourselves in a newly opened, incredibly designed house at the top of Rio de Janeiro. I’ve attached a few pictures, but the decent ones are on my fancy camera.
Last night the hostel had an opening party. We drank gingery cachaca with various accompaniments and chatted in English (embarrassingly) with people from all over the world. We stayed up late playing silly party games, all in English. I really hope I can learn Spanish to order dinner some day soon. Most people we meet in Brazil know enough English to discuss music and films, play games and make jokes. It’s overwhelmingly impressive.
Last night, at different times, I was told I look like Cate Blanchett and Gwyneth Paltrow. I love Rio and it’s selection of beautiful, English speaking liars.